a boring little warp on the space-time continuum Welcome to my own personal void into which I sometimes screech and howl Apropos: â¨43â¨married to @therunnymoonsover â¨runningâ¨academic insecurityâ¨social bewildermentâ¨matriarchal wonkinessâ¨matrimonial gratuitousnessâ¨cosmosâ¨shitblrâ¨word vomitâ¨for best results, view page in dark modeâ¨
I really wish I had gotten that job. But I just now got hired as a 2nd grade teacher. The good news about really not wanting to teach is that I didnât give a crap if I got the job to the point that I was comfortable asking uncomfortable questions about toxic work environments. I pointedly asked the principal how she manages teachers speaking poorly to students. I told her about my toxic experience last year and told her it was why I had a horrible year. I told her the principal did nothing about it and I never wanted to work at a place like that again. She actually seemed happy I asked and explained that she is trying to implement ideas from Conscious Discipline. She was really cool, but not too cool (my principal was TOO cool, like, unprofessional), and my daughter was listening in and said, âman, yâall really matched each otherâs vibe, Mom! You did great!â
I also asked about the HVAC bc that was a huge problem for me last year. I had these awful window units that were so loud, broken, and stinky AF. My classroom was stuffy, but when the air was on, it made me actually sick. My friend was also sick all the time from the hvac system. I constantly had allergy issues that I never have. That alone was reason enough to gloat Iâm never setting foot in that school again. One of the worst parts of working there. Thankfully, she said we have central air so no worries about that. She did say we canât manage temp by the room but I do not care. It makes it easier to tell students who have opposing temp needs that I have no control over it.
So now I guess Iâll work on hyping myself up. I really, really, really wish it was the library, but one more year might not be so bad, especially with a more professional principal who actually seemed toâŚlike me?! She smiled and liked what I was saying! Sharp contrast to the last guy, who openly told me he didnât care for my personality đ Iâm already enrolled in some PD courses and Iâm working on my pre-certification enrollment. Iâm a little worried bc itâs a TAP school so a little more pressure, but sounds like thereâs a lot more support. There are 2 master teachers and 2 mentor teachers, instead of one master teacher for the whole school like last year. Cluster meetings are 90 mins đ OMG Iâm giving myself panic attacks using all this school jargon. UUUUUGHGHHHHHHH
I think I can get excited about 2nd grade. Even though Louisiana is doing its damnedest to make this a shiddy fockin year and setting us up for failure. Iâll do my best. Take that Jeff Landry, ya dick!
I was raised by Mr. Rogers. Maybe thatâs why I am so shellshocked. I thought that was a universal experience, that those kinds of manners were commonplace. A sensitive, soft-spoken, feeling being who wanted everyone to be comfortable, who would change his cardigan (the most exciting part for me was wondering which color he would pick) and shoes so neatly, greet you as he fed his fish without missing a beat and calmly ask you about your day. It just resonated with me so much. I wanted to actually live in that neighborhood, and I guess I thought I did.
And then I grew upâway up, and discovered that this is not, in fact, Mr. Rogersâ Neighborhood.
I hid in my home, broke and afraid of the world for 24 years. I couldnât even go to the grocery store alone. Then, at age 43, I got my first job, teaching. And right now, I donât know if my perception is just warped by my television upbringing, or if it really was that bad.
PSA to anyone who replies to anything I write in this hapless void of emotional chaos
At least 2 of you replied apologizing for taking up space or reluctant to take up space. You can take up as much damn space as you want. You can also DM me. I wonât mind. I may struggle to reply bc Iâm bad at that stuff but it doesnât mean I donât appreciate every word your heart spills here. My space is your space and I love the energy you bring me đđđ
A Reflection about my Year of Teaching: Think Hooks from Police Academy, before she found her inner bullhorn.
So many things were horrible about this job that absolutely didnât have to be. It started out with a weird interview. I had spent a week preparing with my sister in law, who taught for 20 years, for questions he didnât ask. He told me, âI donât care about any of that stuffâ (every time I tried to talk about education related insight Iâd developed in college or parrot anything Iâd memorized from my script of teacher interview prep crash course), âI go off of personality.â Ok fine, but that wonât get me anywhere.
He later commented on my personality. He said, ââŚis that ya personality or are ya just nervous? Because if thatâs ya personality these kids will walk all over you. You canât be likeâŚthat. These are street kids. This is a rough school.â I was honest and told him both. And instead of saying I wasnât the right fit, he said ok letâs take a tour of the school, then when back at his office, put the contract in front of me. I remember being not ok bc he mentioned a pre-employment drug test and I had dabbled in a lil dabs. So my head was spinning. I was trying to pretend to be normal.
This district and state has a lot of systemic problems, as most do, problems that are politically deliberately perpetuated, and some that are perpetuated by ambition. Which is to say I think my principal is trying to get in at the district. No shame in that, itâs very typical for male principals. They always end up at the district. The problem is he wants the short cut, which is to say he wants built in perfection rather than to work on crafting it. Heâs all over the fucking place and as a result is kind of a douche. I think heâs a nice person, but heâs also kind of an asshole. Rather than supporting me, he just wrote me off. And I honestly believe he did so from the beginning, but was in a rush to fill a spot before the school year when he hired me 3 weeks before the school year. The goal is to have every vacancy filled, obviously, ideally however before summer, not at the end of it, and the 4th grade teacher abruptly quit.
Anyway, I caught him in lies from time to time, and I confronted him on things. For example, the school had a retired teacher in my spot while I was on medical leave (undoubtedly another factor), and she was quite intense. She was downright abusive, ok? I tried to respect her but when she screamed in a kidâs face that heâs a âmoronâ and slammed the door on the sped teacher & studentsâ faces, I went directly to him and told him she needed to leave my classroom. I said, âI know Iâm new and I know I need help, but I would rather be on my own. This just fills my classroom environment with negativity!â He said, âsheâs just old school, she runs a tight ship! These kids LOVE her!â True, they did, but, kids love ANYONE who interacts with themâthey want approval, they want to feel that someone cares about them and sees them, even if thatâs in a negative light, like Stockholm syndrome, that doesnât mean an abusive person is more successful! Her benchmark scores DROPPED, TWICE! They werenât learning from her.
I was still stuck with her. And I did sort of bond with her though I could tell she couldnât stand me. I liked the lights off and string lights on, and the kids loved it, they found it soothing. I even used it as a rewards systemââif yâall get through social studies, Iâll turn on the string lights for ELA.â And she didnât know I was sitting in there at lunch one day and blew into my room PISSED OFF and flung the light switch on and barked âCANT SEE A DAMN THING IN THIS STUPID CLASSROOM WITH THESE STUPID LIGHTS!â Rolling her eyes and then stumbled back with OOPS in her eyes when she saw me and did a nervous chuckle. Thatâs basically how it was with her all the damn time. Very tense and she was very fuckin scary.
In late November/early December, they told me the district was forcing them to do an observation despite my medical leave (in retrospect i think the school itself wanted to dump me already, I think they already had the eventual replacement in mind and weâre waiting for her to graduate, but my master teacher at least tried to help me). I was super frustrated though, the sub sucked all the oxygen out of the room, her benchmarks sucked, she didnt follow the rubric Iâd be scored on so her model wouldnât work yet she sat back there rolling her eyes at me when I did my own thing. So I negotiated with the principal a timeline for when I could take over my classroom. I mean, the thing is, they had told me, âuse her as your model for teaching the morning class, then you teach the afternoon class. But also donât teach like her, follow the NIET rubric bc she doesnât do that and doesnât do lesson plans and makes them do rote memorization, but also do it just like her.â đĽ´Like. Almost literally, thatâs what they told me to do! So she had them write journals, corny journals that had nothing to do with curriculum, which is fine bc itâs writing practice. But I wasnât clear on what I was supposed to do/not do so I followed their model for their favorite fucking substitute teacher they were using as my impromptu mentor but also not my mentor? Next thing I know my principal is telling me, donât have them write crap about their weekend in journals. I was like, you told me to copy the sub⌠He ignored that and assumed that was coming from me! đ Very typical bc he doesnât fucking listen. So I told him my concerns and he was all, listen it is YOUR classroom, anyone whoâs in there has to do it your way and that includes paras, subs, interpreters, etc. Ok fine. But then he was telling me to defer to her. Idfk! RAAAAH!!! It was such a fucking MESS. Anyway I got super fucking frustrated. He eventually agreed I could take over my class in January. âWe will wean the sub out of the classroom.â Ok đđđ
So back in January, great fucking timing as fucking usual, I caught covid. I emailed my principal to ask if I should come to work anyway. He didnât reply. My friend told me to text him bc he would reply to a text. So I did. He didnât reply. I stayed home bc thatâs what you do when you have covid, right? Wrong. But I did. I emailed and called him and texted him again and again to let him know Iâd be out. No replies. I couldnât breathe FFS and my dr put me on medicine for my lungs and kept me out until that Friday. My friend texted me, hey are you still coming back Friday? Principal Doofus is trying to plan. I told her, yes, Iâve texted and emailed and called him repeatedly but he doesnât fucking reply, I told him Iâm coming back Friday.
Well when I went back, with laryngitis and wheezing, allergic to my classroom so that didnât help, he had the sub in my class! She totally took over too. Was teaching. Told me to sit at the small group table. She was going to finish the book the class was supposed to finish that week. Fine. I had laryngitis. But she was out of control! She was screaming at the soed students, and everyone else. I marched down to him in the hallway and said I had to talk to him NOW. Mind you I was still very fucking sick with covid and could barely talk. Throat still sore. Grumpy as fuck. So he walks me outside to the breezeway and i immediately launched into fury. âYouâre letting her take over again?!!â THIS DUMB MF SAID, âwell we didnât think you were coming back!â I told him I had contacted him and he didnât reply, and that I was also texting the sped teacher who was a mutual friend of ours and who told me she was telling him for me, so I KNOW he knew I was coming back. I said, I have COVID!!!! (Btw he caught it the next week đ). I went off. But I was so fucking frustrated. I felt disrespected. I felt stepped on. I felt like they really were being unfair to me and were blaming ME for problems their sub created. And I told him how I felt. He seemed to actually listen though. Probably didnât exactly make him like me very much. I think he had already decided though. I bursted into tears and he walked me to his office and pretended to care while I cried for 30 mins. He gave in.
The thing is, he still took it as me saying I didnât want help. I tried to tell him I wanted help, just not THAT kind of help. But now Iâm realizing, they wanted someone who could keep the kids in check. Not someone who could teach them.
Anyway, thatâs basically also how the rest of the 3rd quarter went. I was deeply pissed off and overworked, and the kids did not listen to me bc they were accustomed to being screamed at and no matter how hard I tried to be a hardass, it just doesnât work! Think Hooks from Police Academy, before she found her inner bullhorn. Only I never developed my inner bullhorn.
My students loved me. They would beg to come to my class during lunch and PE. Detention was a reward for them đ so I never gave detention bc they didnât take it seriously. We developed a âLunch Bunchâ signup sheet. I told them they had to earn it. The entire 4th grade signed up for it. I had kids in my lunch every day. I mean I needed a quiet lunch, but I couldnât tell them no. I know a lot of them suffered abuse, poverty, neglect, had parents that had to work constantly, and some just needed to feel like teachers werenât always mad at them, so on and so forth. They were comforted in my classroom. The lights were off except the warm glow of the string lights. They were free to move around when they were done eating. And lookâI think that was the start of something good, but it did make me a bit of a doormat. I think if I would have been ALLOWED the space to develop my own authoritative environment without an authoritarian banshee undermining me, not to mention my partner teacher (I stg carbon copies of Aunt Spiker and Aunt Sponge) it would have been different, so much better. I mean, behavior was out of control, Iâm not gonna lie, but I think that is just as much a result of being screamed into submission and never having recess and never having any fun of any kind for a single moment bc itâs all work work work and never being able to just have a brain break, as it was me being soft and showing kindness and being a doormat.
And I got results. When my principal pulled me in to tell me the asshole things he did at the very beginning of the 4th quarter as detailed here (and he followed up with, âbut letâs finish strong!â đ 9 fucking weeks of going to a place that has expressed how much you suck wasnt fucking fun!!!! Not a strong finish imo. I longed to walk into his office on the last day and say, âhowâs this đ for a strong finish!â Like Jennifer Anniston in Office Space.), he tried to use my benchmark scores against me. He said, âyour benchmarks,â ~rustles papers trying to find them~ ââŚwellâŚwell theyâŚthey didnât go (~motions with hands, doesnât verbalize~) âŹď¸âŚthey didnât even go âĄď¸âŚwell I mean they didnât go âŹď¸ either, they sorta went âď¸âŚhmâŚâ Ok boss. You fucking clown.
I havenât even mentioned the best, craziest fucking part of the benchmark scores. So. I think at this point, they had long been done with me. Back during the 2nd quarter benchmarks, which are district pre-state testing tests they take each quarter to get data before state testing, I had only been back a couple weeks. The school plopped scoring the written responses in my lap. I had no fucking idea how to grade them! I had to figure it out myself. I had to find the rubrics in the district pupil progression plan. Right? No one helped me! My master teacher did show me where to log in and where to locate them and scored one for me, but that was it. First time I had ever graded ANYTHING. Now I know they were actually supposed to pull me in and score them together so I could see how it was supposed to be done. But no. And then they told me to put in final grades for the second quarter right? Ha. I had to figure that out after never even logging into to the districts system. Figured that out on my own, with a bit of help from my wonderful para. Ok so come time for 3rd quarter scores?! I went to score them immediately when they were available bc I was curious how they didâthese were my first scores. The sub got credit for the decreases the first two quarters. But they were nowhere to be found. Wtf??! I eventually realized they had been scored. At this point, my master teacher had been helping me. We agreed she would help me get pacing down so she was helping me coordinate lessons (she did this for 2 weeks), so when I went to her room one day, I asked her about it and showed her they were scored. She was like đŤ¤omg the assistant principal must have done thatâŚwhy would she do that?! You needed to learnâŚhmâŚâŚ.â Then said nothing further. Seemed slightly exasperated but moved on.
Their scores were low. But they were gonna be bc this is the covid classâanother factor I havenât mentioned (will explain in the next paragraph). But they were lower than I expected and I was sad. Until that Thursday when I had to score 2 late submissions. Then I had access to the written responses! AND GUESS WHAT. The assistant principal gave some normally stellar students ZEROs for writings that should have been at least 15/19 or higher. What followed probably also contributed to them booting me. Final scores were due that day, so I wouldnât be able to change them. So I went to the asst. principal and asked her. She was like đŻđ¨ stunned that I noticed I guess? She was speechless for a second and then hurriedly said, âzero means itâs not scored.â Not true. I said, well I would have given them a higher score, could you take a look at it and tell me what Iâm doing wrong? She said yeah. That Sunday I noticed she had not in fact done anything. So I emailed her, using one student as the example. Yâall this is so long. There are many details Iâll have to leave out. But this might have been the craziest thing that happened at this school. So Iâm sorry. But I now have a series of emails with her that is utterly insane. She lied, I caught her, but played dumb, but indirectly confronted her, like, she said she couldnât see the writings, so I logged in and managed to pull up a copy of the writings on an excel file, of which I also downloaded for scores, then she tried to cover it up by saying, âwell I donât know what youâre seeing, I see an 8.â And look, the numbers are TINY, without glasses it could be mistaken for a 0, I guess, except that 0s are red and higher scores are different shades of green. She. Went. In. And. Changed it. And 8 was still too low. But I accepted it sans confrontation bc it brought the student to mastery and brought my overall scores up. I had both copies of writings and score matrixes before and after she changed it. But dropped the subject. Things were weird after that for sure, and less than 2 weeks later, I got the axe. I donât think it was that alone. In fact, I think that purposely bad scoring was her trying to give them a good excuse to boot me after they had already decided it, bc Iâm union? Maybe? Idk. I donât care anymore. At the time I was livid! But I am just ready to move on with my life and get out of that toxic fucking school.
Iâll go in about the covert replacement nonsense they brought in another time. Girl didnât even know how to grade a writing. đ
Look. I was not perfect. I know I fucked up. I know I sucked at a lot of things. But I only had a few months, and I had ZERO SUPPORT OR GUIDANCE. And I only had my classroom to myself for about 30 days when he told me I was out. And he didnât just say, youâre not a good fit for us. He wrote off my career as an elementary teacher. And normally, Iâm very hard on myself. I seldom give myself credit. Under other circumstances, I would have absolutely believed him and added it to the pile of validation for my self-loathing. But heâs fucking wrong about me. I am a good teacher. But thatâs not what they want. And I know his goal is an easy going job where all the teachers have the kids quiet so the superintendent can justify his $321,000 a year salary and the principal can say, âsee the kids are quiet, good job, gimme a spot with you pleaaaase Dr. RichGuy who got a $58,000 raise this year which is more than a 10 year certified teacher makes and when teachers havenât gotten a raise since 2018 đĽşâ
(Skip to the end to see the informal poll and avoid the anxious ramble)
My first year of teaching was a disaster from beginning to end. I know most teachersâ first year is the worst and you feel like you donât know what youâre doing bc you donât know what youâre doing and thereâs so much pressure. Etc.
Even beyond the more typical misery was a lot of personal life tumult and turmoil and trauma and chaos going on, including a debilitating (somewhat unofficial but more or less confirmed based on symptoms) diagnosis I have to live with now without having much insight as to prognosis. And a lot more discomfort involving loved ones.
Reflecting on this year is almost as traumatic as the experience itself. I had next to zero support, with the exception of about 2 weeks under the guidance of an amazing master teacher. But that was it. The morale at the school was beneath rock bottom. Every single day was worse than the day before. I tried to go in positive. But with very few exceptions, everyone was miserable and no one tried to hide it. People were directly rude to me, condescending, sarcastic, openly comtemptful, angry, hated the kids and cursed about them and screamed at them (âshut UP!!!!â âMORON! GET OUT!â âYouâre STUPID, I should have LET that student hit you!â âI woulda hit you in the face too if youâd done something like that to me!â Just a few quotes off the top of my head, not to mention one slamming the door on my sped teacherâs face along with our sped students, which the principal did absolutely nothing about despite his friendship with the sped teacher). Discipline/behavior was an absolute JOKE. So many far worse things happened (DCFS reports that went ignored, fights, students having mental health crises that were blatantly ignored, etc.) that I feel some level of trauma, and I get exasperated and angry all over again, but rather than get caught up in those feelings, Iâll mostly leave it at that, bc I think Iâve painted an accurate picture of how awful it was.
I guessed my way through **everything** but did my absolute best and figured everything out. A bit of productive struggle and hey, by the end of the year I was an expert in a lot of things I knew nothing about months earlier. My rapport with my students was great, to give myself some credit. They loved me. Albeit too muchâthey thought of my softness as a doormat. They felt free and liberated in my classroom bc I seldom raised my voice. Unfortunately what theyâre accustomed to is only listening when yelled at, and as a new teacher, I did not have better tools to manage classroom behavior, beyond building relationships, and my class was a bit out of control. It became all about getting through the curriculum through the 3rd quarter.
My benchmark scores went up, which was pretty amazing considering everything. However at the very beginning of the 4th quarter my principal informed me that he wasnât renewing my contract and that he would **never** let me teach 4th grade again, that âI donât know if I would ever let you teach **any** grade level, maybe try pre-kâyou get nap time and someone is always with you.â So he wrote off my career as an elementary teacher after just a few months of teaching. I could go on about how he had covertly brought in his very own former student (who had only recently began prepping to take the Praxis) as my replacement, unofficially âemployedâ but âtechnically not.â But I donât want to get into that, as furious as it made me. I just stopped writing lesson plans bc no way was I gonna train her for free when they gave me zero support through the year.
I had way more bad days than goodâthe kids and my para got me through it! I was grateful for that. They were wonderful and I miss them. But I was made to feel incompetent. I slowly started to realize that him booting me was a blessing in disguise, especially after learning how many students Iâd have had next year. And some other changes that wonât be helpful.
Thereâs also a lot of BS going on in our state regarding education. So things are not exactly going to get easier. Alas, I need a paycheck and I went to school and passed praxis to be a teacher. Iâm 44 so itâs not like I have many options.
But I did actually finally get an interview at a library last week! Iâd applied for **6 years** and never got so much as a phone call. Unfortunately itâs part time and drastically less pay (which is honestly pitiful). And it would take me years to make close to what I make now. And I was just getting into certification so as a teacher Iâd get a $10k raise. Buuut I really donât want to miss a rare opportunity to get my foot in the door at the library!
Iâve got dozens of job offers in my district. I had 6 principals call me and email me yesterday alone! I know I could make decent money. But I donât want to turn down the library job, which absolutely would not cut it financially.
I forgot to mention a key component of this dilemma: Teaching is **extremely** overstimulating to me. Iâm autistic/adhd. This was part of my misery. Between my loud a/c units in my classroom and the kids noises desks constantly clanking and kids constantly talking over me etc etc etc, and the awful attitudes of most coworkers and all the other stuff, I barely made it to the end of the year. I know most of us actually feel that way, but my day to day in the classroom is beyond awful. I cried constantly, I had panic attacks going in every single morning during the 4th quarter after years of reduced panic attacks, most days I felt frustrated, and some days I even had moments where I could not even talk anymore and had to go home (these days where at least one kid told me to âShut the f- - k up b-tch!â or fought or both plus admin treated me like crap and I had enough). **Not to mention spending entire weekends and weeknights writing lesson plans, creating lessons, grading, entering grades, etc etc etc.** All I could think about every day was how much I wished I could get a library job!! I even had a student tell me I would make a better librarian than teacher. She was excited when I got the call about the interview lol.
But what if my next school is better? What if Iâm idealizing a library career? (Though I realize there are more jobs than librarian with an MLIS, and Iâm considering archiving as well). What if as a teacher I go in knowing expectations and having a better idea of how to do things and how to establish classroom procedures, what if itâs better? What if itâs stupid to give up on a better paying job? But then again, what if itâs just as bad and maybe even worse bc my district is notoriously horrendous?
Iâd love to get my MLIS but realistically, there arenât very many librarian jobs and moving isnât an option, though, again, an MLIS does open more opportunities. The day to day would almost be worth the paycut, even with the customer service end of circulation (the job is for circulation assistant). Iâve contemplated doing both, just for one year. I know that sounds nuts, and itâs risky, but whatâs more important? My paycheck, or my mental health?! **I honestly donât know!** I **need** the money. But I also **need** a peaceful environment. This is all, of course, assuming Iâm even actually offered the library job. They may very well make it easy for me to decide (Iâll find out this week).
EDIT: I forgot to mention a vital detail. I am supposed to complete enrollment in a certification program this week. If I donât get the library job but failed to enroll, it could screw up the certification process and delay the raise. Iâm not working as a teacher for a penny less if I have to teach. But if I do enroll and then get the job, then Iâve paid for a program I canât use. So the uncertainty this week in particular feels like the pressure of a thousand seas on top of my head.
Should I:
Substitute w library for **almost** the same money as I made uncertified, which
Library + teaching full time bc youâre insane and unrealistic
Library only + MLIS bc itâs your dream & short term paycut is worth long term h
Girl, are you insane?! Teaching only bc itâs the smart move!
Reblogging to say I am quite shocked and amused that not one vote has gone to teaching (but also very much not shocked bc teaching is super stressful and all-consuming). I assumed people would think it was the sensible thing to do and that the library job is too risky and was prepared to be sad and feel ridiculous for even considering a steep paycut in pursuit of my dream job. These results are the exact opposite of what I expected and Iâm very happy about it! Thank you for validating my insanity and silliness.
And not only did you choose the Library job, but you chose it without the substituting for supplemental income. Positively astounded. Reddit more or less feels the same way, though I had a few telling me Iâm possibly idealizing library work, and even one suggest I actually do the library plus full time teaching (which would be 60-67 hours per week đ).
Well. I feel a lot better about it. Much different about it in fact. I no longer feel like Iâm being unrealistic or childish or ridiculous. But also, I feel much more anxious about the possibility I may not even be offered the job!
(Skip to the end to see the informal poll and avoid the anxious ramble)
My first year of teaching was a disaster from beginning to end. I know most teachersâ first year is the worst and you feel like you donât know what youâre doing bc you donât know what youâre doing and thereâs so much pressure. Etc.
Even beyond the more typical misery was a lot of personal life tumult and turmoil and trauma and chaos going on, including a debilitating (somewhat unofficial but more or less confirmed based on symptoms) diagnosis I have to live with now without having much insight as to prognosis. And a lot more discomfort involving loved ones.
Reflecting on this year is almost as traumatic as the experience itself. I had next to zero support, with the exception of about 2 weeks under the guidance of an amazing master teacher. But that was it. The morale at the school was beneath rock bottom. Every single day was worse than the day before. I tried to go in positive. But with very few exceptions, everyone was miserable and no one tried to hide it. People were directly rude to me, condescending, sarcastic, openly comtemptful, angry, hated the kids and cursed about them and screamed at them (âshut UP!!!!â âMORON! GET OUT!â âYouâre STUPID, I should have LET that student hit you!â âI woulda hit you in the face too if youâd done something like that to me!â Just a few quotes off the top of my head, not to mention one slamming the door on my sped teacherâs face along with our sped students, which the principal did absolutely nothing about despite his friendship with the sped teacher). Discipline/behavior was an absolute JOKE. So many far worse things happened (DCFS reports that went ignored, fights, students having mental health crises that were blatantly ignored, etc.) that I feel some level of trauma, and I get exasperated and angry all over again, but rather than get caught up in those feelings, Iâll mostly leave it at that, bc I think Iâve painted an accurate picture of how awful it was.
I guessed my way through **everything** but did my absolute best and figured everything out. A bit of productive struggle and hey, by the end of the year I was an expert in a lot of things I knew nothing about months earlier. My rapport with my students was great, to give myself some credit. They loved me. Albeit too muchâthey thought of my softness as a doormat. They felt free and liberated in my classroom bc I seldom raised my voice. Unfortunately what theyâre accustomed to is only listening when yelled at, and as a new teacher, I did not have better tools to manage classroom behavior, beyond building relationships, and my class was a bit out of control. It became all about getting through the curriculum through the 3rd quarter.
My benchmark scores went up, which was pretty amazing considering everything. However at the very beginning of the 4th quarter my principal informed me that he wasnât renewing my contract and that he would **never** let me teach 4th grade again, that âI donât know if I would ever let you teach **any** grade level, maybe try pre-kâyou get nap time and someone is always with you.â So he wrote off my career as an elementary teacher after just a few months of teaching. I could go on about how he had covertly brought in his very own former student (who had only recently began prepping to take the Praxis) as my replacement, unofficially âemployedâ but âtechnically not.â But I donât want to get into that, as furious as it made me. I just stopped writing lesson plans bc no way was I gonna train her for free when they gave me zero support through the year.
I had way more bad days than goodâthe kids and my para got me through it! I was grateful for that. They were wonderful and I miss them. But I was made to feel incompetent. I slowly started to realize that him booting me was a blessing in disguise, especially after learning how many students Iâd have had next year. And some other changes that wonât be helpful.
Thereâs also a lot of BS going on in our state regarding education. So things are not exactly going to get easier. Alas, I need a paycheck and I went to school and passed praxis to be a teacher. Iâm 44 so itâs not like I have many options.
But I did actually finally get an interview at a library last week! Iâd applied for **6 years** and never got so much as a phone call. Unfortunately itâs part time and drastically less pay (which is honestly pitiful). And it would take me years to make close to what I make now. And I was just getting into certification so as a teacher Iâd get a $10k raise. Buuut I really donât want to miss a rare opportunity to get my foot in the door at the library!
Iâve got dozens of job offers in my district. I had 6 principals call me and email me yesterday alone! I know I could make decent money. But I donât want to turn down the library job, which absolutely would not cut it financially.
I forgot to mention a key component of this dilemma: Teaching is **extremely** overstimulating to me. Iâm autistic/adhd. This was part of my misery. Between my loud a/c units in my classroom and the kids noises desks constantly clanking and kids constantly talking over me etc etc etc, and the awful attitudes of most coworkers and all the other stuff, I barely made it to the end of the year. I know most of us actually feel that way, but my day to day in the classroom is beyond awful. I cried constantly, I had panic attacks going in every single morning during the 4th quarter after years of reduced panic attacks, most days I felt frustrated, and some days I even had moments where I could not even talk anymore and had to go home (these days where at least one kid told me to âShut the f- - k up b-tch!â or fought or both plus admin treated me like crap and I had enough). **Not to mention spending entire weekends and weeknights writing lesson plans, creating lessons, grading, entering grades, etc etc etc.** All I could think about every day was how much I wished I could get a library job!! I even had a student tell me I would make a better librarian than teacher. She was excited when I got the call about the interview lol.
But what if my next school is better? What if Iâm idealizing a library career? (Though I realize there are more jobs than librarian with an MLIS, and Iâm considering archiving as well). What if as a teacher I go in knowing expectations and having a better idea of how to do things and how to establish classroom procedures, what if itâs better? What if itâs stupid to give up on a better paying job? But then again, what if itâs just as bad and maybe even worse bc my district is notoriously horrendous?
Iâd love to get my MLIS but realistically, there arenât very many librarian jobs and moving isnât an option, though, again, an MLIS does open more opportunities. The day to day would almost be worth the paycut, even with the customer service end of circulation (the job is for circulation assistant). Iâve contemplated doing both, just for one year. I know that sounds nuts, and itâs risky, but whatâs more important? My paycheck, or my mental health?! **I honestly donât know!** I **need** the money. But I also **need** a peaceful environment. This is all, of course, assuming Iâm even actually offered the library job. They may very well make it easy for me to decide (Iâll find out this week).
EDIT: I forgot to mention a vital detail. I am supposed to complete enrollment in a certification program this week. If I donât get the library job but failed to enroll, it could screw up the certification process and delay the raise. Iâm not working as a teacher for a penny less if I have to teach. But if I do enroll and then get the job, then Iâve paid for a program I canât use. So the uncertainty this week in particular feels like the pressure of a thousand seas on top of my head.
Should I:
Substitute w library for **almost** the same money as I made uncertified, which
Library + teaching full time bc youâre insane and unrealistic
Library only + MLIS bc itâs your dream & short term paycut is worth long term h
Girl, are you insane?! Teaching only bc itâs the smart move!
I know many of us say âI feel like an alienâ a lot, but like really. I donât want to live on this planet. I donât think I belong here at all. Iâve never felt this so much in all of my 44 years as I do now. Iâve always felt it but Iâve never been more convinced. The more I go in to work, the more intensely I feel this. I saw a photo of Jupiter a minute ago and had the burning urge to very literally be there and not here. Or anywhere in the cosmos that isnât here. Iâm not an earthling. I am not of terra. I am of sulphur and hydrogen and helium and I float aimlessly in wonder.
@therunnymoonsover and I love cooking together. I only chopped veggies this year and did a little taste test seasoning advising bc I was wrapped up in the despair of what to wear, so most of the credit goes to đ¤my belovedđ¤.
Technically, itâs rice dressing and not dirty rice if thereâs no liver or gizzards (which I prefer personally but sometimes it can be too strong, and itâs so messy and gross to prepare bleh), but we still call it dirty rice, and itâs a family favorite. Colloquialisms & culinary technicalities are funny to me. The passion some people have for their personal names for food can cause more Thanksgiving conflict than politics. Our daughter in law was corrected when she called our grandmother-in-lawâs cornbread dressing âstuffing,â then later confessed she had been embarrassed by the correction. I told her that itâs a mere technicality & means the same thing in or out of the bird, that Mrs. Maâam just enjoys correcting people, and to call it whatever tf she wants.
The apple pie cookies and breakfast cake were outstanding and my favorite parts this year. There was no sweet potato soufflĂŠâwhich is usually my favoriteâbc brother-of-our-brother-in-law who usually cooks it (I think) was absent due to flu.
Our food collabs are always one of my favorite ways to spend time together and definitely comforting. In times of both peace and crisis, and everything in between we cook.
Slow-motion Apocalypse: Sometimes, you donât want the answers, but you get them anyway
The last two months have been life changing, in so many ways. All of 2023 has been. I started out this year in a Residency that instantly did not fit me and resigned after only 2 weeks. Blaine completed his first half-marathon. I very uncharacteristically took an in-person pilates class and managed to consistently attend for 5 months. I very uncharacteristically took an in-person yoga class. I reluctantly took two religious courses in my final 2 semesters in college that ended up being my favorite courses in my 20+ years of attending college. And then, at age almost 44, I got my first job. As a teacher.
I made many unprecedented social, spiritual, and physical strides. 3 days into the school year, I was in the ICU for Rhabdomyolysis. It was somewhat of a mystery, even with the extreme heat and dehydration. I had not performed anything more strenuous than the next gal. At first, we thought, hey, anyone can get Rhabdo.
But this instigated my first visit with a neurologist since I was a teenager. Well, I was diagnosed with CPEO when I was 26, in the immediate aftermath of Katrina. I was devastated, but thankfully had pretty limited access to information. It was rough but I quickly sank into denialâthe easiest most sensible way to cope with an incurable untreatable progressive mystery disease. So I never saw a neurologist or geneticist bc what was the point? We had no money, no insurance, and the disease was so rare that no one knew anything about it.
Nearly 20 years later, the doctors in the ICU told me that that was still the caseâthe only specialist who knew about it only saw pediatric patients. But they still suggested I see a neurologist to see if my condition had progressed and was perhaps why I got Rhabdo. So I randomly picked from the list of neurologists on MyChart, and I hit the jackpot.
The first thing he said was, you do not have CPEO. You do not have mitochondrial disease.
At first I smiled. I laughed. I was overjoyed for a brief moment. Until I realized that meant I had some other neuromuscular disease. Something had to explain my ophthalmoplegia (paralysis of the eyes). He did the exam I fearfully avoided for decades. Tests of strength & demonstrating the thing I painstakingly pretended wasnât really happening.
He detected facial weakness I knew but denied. My smile had shortened and weakened. He acknowledged my clearly flimsy wrists, that he could tell by looking at them that my forearms and hands are weak.
He held my hands as I cried. He told me he knew my entire medical history, including trauma. He told me I should go on leave from work while we investigate my actual illness and that he wanted me to get psychiatric treatment for both trauma and for coming to terms with a progressive diseaseâdenial simply wonât cut it. He spoke softly, telling me, I donât want to make you too pessimistic, but I do not want to make you too optimistic. Letâs get through genetics and psychiatry and we will take it from there.
I avoided the genetics test he had sent to my home for weeks. @therunnymoonsover had to use his powers of persuasion (and his own brand of support) to convince me to finally take it. The instructions said it would take 5 minutes to fill the vial with spit. I filled it in seconds. My superpower. I wish I was that good at other things.
I got the first results back last Friday, Sept 22, the day after my 44th birthday, which had been spent at my best friendâs dadâs funeral. The second funeral that took place on my birthday, the first being my beloved pawpawâs back in 2008. It was a joyous day. At first i was scare to read the results. Blaine was home thankfully and took over after I melted into a puddle of despair. It turned out to be relatively innocuous. A mutation that causes extreme fatigue and muscle soreness and weakness, but not debilitating. It was associated with dystrophies, however none had been detected.
So I was walking on air for most of the week. Until it dawned on me, waitâŚthis does not explain my eyesâŚ
And sure enough, yesterday we got the very unexpected news. There were two other mutations that reflected myopathy and a dystrophy.
I lost it, of course. Blaine spent a couple hours reading about it while I cried. I told him I needed a break from it, not that I could ever truly escape the doom spiral in which Iâd found myself swirling. I begged him to go for a run. His full 8 miles.
Later he watched the video my doctor sent. Heâs a good doctor. Heâll get to the bottom of it.
Whatâs the point of knowing? Thereâs nothing that can be done. Limb Girdle Muscular Dystrophy is happening whether or not we talk about it. There are reasons to be optimistic. As far as we can tell, it wonât affect my organs. Itâs not even a formal diagnosis yet. Just best guesses about gene test results we laymen read about while we wait to talk to our expert.
It does explain pretty much everything so far, sadly. I donât want the explanations. Why I have fallen down the stairs so many times. Why I have fallen in parking lots for no reason. Why I can not spray a can of Pam or hairspray with only one hand. Why I have to use 2 hands to sip from a bottle of water. Why no matter how much I trained I could not progress in running. Why I walk and run so slowly when I feel like Iâm so fast. Why I got Rhabdomyolysis. And my facial weakness to a point.
Here we are now. Purgatory. Trying to linger at the event horizon. No amount of denial will stop it.
I read about a runner with MD who gets frustrated with people using her as inspiration, shouting encouraging words at her, and she doesnât want it. She just wants to run. Same girl same. I donât want to be anyoneâs reason to keep going, Iâm not trying to inspire anyone, I just want to run. Iâm not ableist to wish I did not have this fucking disease. I want to run for the same reasons as anyone else. Anyway, I donât know whether or not Iâll be able to yet. So far, it sounds like my dystrophy affects type II fast twitch muscles, and only my limbs, possibly limited to upper body, though I can honestly say I do have a lot of pain and weakness in my shin muscles, so Iâm skeptical about any optimism beyond my organs not being affected. And there could be more results impending so I donât know how much optimism is warranted.
Iâm not writing for sympathy. I am screaming into the void. I hate this with every ragged red fiber of my fucking being. With rage and contempt. And contradicting that with Siddharthaâs soft ponderings about suffering in mind. Grief really is weird. Iâm just rolling in the stages the precede acceptance for a while. Thank god Iâm on leave from work for another month. And that I have my first psychiatrist appointment Wednesday. And that I have support and love from blaine. But I donât want support. Dammit. I just want to be normal.
My medieval and ancient ancestors watching me trying to charge my laptop and connect to WiFi: Ah, yes, she must feed her magic mirror on the telluric current and summon the spirits of knowledge from the aether.
My ancestors watching me proceed to doomscroll on Twitter: Alas! She is beguiled by the cruel babblings of the demons within the mirror; soon she will descend into melancholy from the things she has witnessed.
One of my favorite apocryphal stories of the American Revolution that I love so much is that on the morning the war started, Anna Munroe, wife of one of the soldiers, said that she kneaded her bread while crying, because she was convinced that her husband would be dead before she would have to knead it a second time.
It's poignant but easy to overlook, I think, what she's really saying there. Anna's husband walked out the door the night before, leaving her with no certainty that he would ever walk back in again. Soldiers were marching through the streets. She could hear gunshots. And through all of it, she was at home alone with three small children, with no choice but to go through the motions of a normal day. Bake the bread. Feed the baby. Milk the cow. She couldn't just curl up in a corner with her head in her hands, because despite the battle, life was still going on around her, other people depended on her, and she had to keep on living.
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