When You Need an Angel, Ask a Teacher

What an amazing and exhausting first day.  I can’t even tell you the number of times my mind was frying, both from the heat AND from sensory overload.  In our brick school in the desert, with windows that do not open and doors that must remain shut, the AC is broken.  It is humid and almost too hot to think. Before everyone gets angry about that, our district employees are the very best available and dancing as fast as they can. No doubt everything will be fixed before the first day of school. It’s just a little warm at the moment.

There are teacher angels at my school, from each grade level.  This team of women know everything about what I need before I do.  They know where all the hiding places are in the school and they stand ready to help.  I now have all the teacher manuals necessary for 1st grade thanks to their help.

            It’s a daunting experience to enter a classroom that has empty cupboards. Not just a little empty, stocked with antiques from the 1900’s, but, really empty cupboard that have a hollow sound when you close them.  My cupboards that are slowly filling with necessities.

            With 23 littles showing up next Wednesday, this teacher has a lot of shopping to do over the weekend.  Snacks for those that don’t have one.  Toys to keep some of the class busy while the rest are working with me.  A refrigerator to keep some water cold.  A coffee maker to keep my mug full.  The list is endless and every increasing.  Remember what I said.  Teachers across the country are doing this very thing.  Teachers buy a large part of the consumables for American children with our own money.  Many districts prohibit teachers from asking parents for help.  Kids must learn.  Teachers must teach.  I’m so glad I hit Walmart early, as their shelves are now filled with Halloween goodies.

            Yesterday, all the new teachers met with the very new principal and vice principal.  All I can say is this.  God saved me the best for last.  These two women are the kindest and most focused of all the principals under which I have served. And there have been many.  Also new, they are observing everything about the beginning school year with a critical eye.  Their main objective is to start the school year repairing and making new connections between the staff, parents, students, and community.

            In the fall of 1996, my very first principal was the worst.  She loved sitting on counters in her mini skirt with legs crossed while flirting with my male co-worker.  They were both from Connecticut.  Although older than him by a good ten years, he was her special project.  Neither were the sharpest knife in the drawer.  One day, she came in to interrupt my teaching day with a photo album.  She wanted to share her body building photos with me.  Not sure of her thoughts on why this was a good idea in the middle of class time in my 1st-2nd grade class, but, she was in charge.  We marched to her orders. Oy Vey.

            As a first-year teacher, I said, “Of Course” and “Sure” to anything that needed to be done, while my male co-worker skated.  As I understand it, he is now close to Superintendent status, with a salary 4X that of this lowly teacher.  I think back to the chart he put on the wall for Open House that listed Knee and Elbow as Pronouns (in black and white for all to see).  Such is our educational system.  Some days there are just no ways to distinguish which direction is up or down.  Great scammers rise to the top.

My new school took a real hit when Covid came through.  All schools did.  Returning to the classroom environment is different now.  Some kids will be wearing masks.  Some kids not.  Some kids will be vaccinated.  Some kids not.  Some kids will be terrified of what they just went through.  Some kids are too little to remember.  It’s like walking into a vast wilderness to create a new town and a safe place to learn.  That’s the point from where we’re starting.

            Our school lost ten teachers.  Schools are families, so this one just lost a quarter of the family members to other districts.  That’s left some wounds that need to heal.  My town is located about as far away from civilization as you can get.  With the price of gas higher than anything the news is reporting, commuters have no relief.  Any way you look at things, the drive from the nearest town is a good 30 minutes, at the minimum.  On a beginning teacher’s salary, that drive isn’t feasible.  So, we have the teachers we have and are going to make it a great year.  I wish a few more retired teachers would dust off their credentials and come back to work.

Yesterday’s trainings were informative and basic.  A school tour.  Snacks fed our nerves.  Especially the chocolate cupcakes in the afternoon.  Best principal EVER.

            Today, it’s the district’s turn to tell us newbies what we will and won’t ever do.  Reinforcing the rule that teacher’s always walk in lock step while marching to a tune that sometimes doesn’t make sense.  We’ll get passwords, logins, directions, and mandates.  We’ll sign more papers and leave with brains fully loaded with stuff we need to re-learn at the beginning of every school year.  All this while sitting with all the new hires in the district. 

            While getting into our new routine at Winterpast, Oliver was better this morning.  He ate his breakfast while I showered, therefore banking valuable writing minutes.  I grabbed my freshly brewed coffee from my new, automated coffee maker, and we went to the studio.

            Attempting to log into my blog, it was then disaster struck.  The blog site is DOWN.  Not just a little slow.  DOWN.  After making a call, (the first one of the day at 4:00 AM), it was confirmed.  DOWN.          

            I am writing this on WORD at the moment and may not post it until late this afternoon.  Good writing minutes can’t be wasted, when every minute of every day counts.  Working schedules are demanding.

            As you start your day today, know that I’m having the best time of my life.  I can put all my energy into something I dearly love and have missed so much.  I’m making more local friends as my desert roots sink deeper.  Twenty-three littles are going to enjoy the best school year of their lives with Mrs. Hurt.  I’m going to make sure of it.

            More tomorrow.

PS–Thank you Bluehost for getting everyone back online.