I Will Survive

Yes, Gloria, I will!!! Sunday afternoon. I'm sitting here in serious pain. I think I twisted a muscle in my back or something. How? I've NO idea! I've basically spent the weekend either reading in bed or sitting and working on my portfolio for BTSA (the state-mandated beginning teacher two year torture ordeal.) What could I have done?

Seriously though, this hurts - to sit, to stand, to bend - WTF? I've never done anything like this before. Meds are barely touching this pain. It'd better be gone before tomorrow because I have to go to work. I'm getting formally observed during a math lesson I'm teaching. My BTSA mentor and colleague Michelle is observing me. I just want the damned thing over. To say I've lost a great deal of my confidence during this extended stay in HELL would be putting it mildly.

So a week ago this past Friday, my **** boss (insert word beginning with the letter "C" folks) calls me down to her office. I've noticed now that whenever she is going to dump on me, it's on a Friday. That must be the first and only thing she ever learned in her "how to be an ineffectual government administrator" courses. So she has the office manager call me, as she has every time. I guess she's either too good to call me herself, or just too damned busy. I know things are NOT good. I dread seeing her. I think to myself, "What now?" Christ, I've been canned, I have formally resigned. WHAT NOW? I should've known. After the Friday of My Infamous Meltdown, I did something kinda out of control and stupid. I came home and wrote the parents a letter. Yep. I wasn't exactly thinking clearly and I admit it; I do things in the heat of the moment that I probably shouldn't. That's always been a problem with me. Impulse control. So what did this letter say? Well, for starters, far too much. That's another problem I have. I say too much. But no more! If I've learned only one thing on this job it's to keep my f-ing mouth shut. But in the heat of emotion and feeling sick as hell - sick to my stomach, sick of the kids, etc. I wrote a VERY diplomatic, kind letter to the parents. I'm nothing if not diplomatic. Really. I could write you a letter telling you how much I hate you and you'd probably end up thanking me for it. But seriously, I just said things to the effect that the kids were a bit out of control after spring break - and I blamed it on everything BUT the parents. Said the kids were overworked, stressed, getting hormonal, tired of fifth grade, feeling senioritis, etc. But I also laid it on the line. I told the parents the kids were being disrespectful and I asked the parents to please sit down and remind the kids how important it was to follow the rules and be respectful, blah blah, blah. Yeah, that was about it. I told them I was gonna start coming down hard on the kids. Well, it had to happen. Thus far I've been very lucky in that none of my parents have gone behind my back to my principal. This time some Judas parents who were too chicken-shit to face me in person, too immature to take the issue up with me, forwarded the emails to my principal. I still don't know exactly what specifically they were upset about. I guess I insulted their kids. Not every kid in the class can be misbehaving right? Wrong.

Whatever they said to my principal, I think it really stuck in her craw, that passive-agressive bitch from hell! She was MAD - but you could barely tell. You had to really look at her and listen to her - but I could tell she was angry. She just said "You can't write emails like this." So what do I do? The usual. I turn on the waterworks. FUCK! Why am I crying again? I've HAD IT! HAD IT! My anger turns to tears but I'm tired of looking so fucking weak in front of her. However, I did and said something that shocked me - something I've never done before. Even through a few tears falling down my face I said: "Bitch, (well actually I used her real name), this is not very professional, I know. But I just don't give a shit anymore."

HAHA! I actually told my boss I didn't give a shit if the parents were upset with me! Way to burn a bridge baby!!!! Because you know what - I DON'T. I told her I have spent 8 months fearing these people - trying to please the students, trying to please overbearing, insulting parents who won't let me do my job properly. I've had it. Intellectually, I see now that I probably shouldn't have sent the email. But emotionally, I don't give a damn. Someone needed to tell these parents that their kids are out of control. Only problem is that 9 out 10 parents actually believe - are psychotic enough to believe that their precious little spoiled brats would NEVER misbehave. Naturally I wasn't told which parents turned into rats on me. One of the best parts though, was I think the parents laid into my principal. I think that's why she was mad. Because SHE got grief from the parents. They probably asked her why she wasn't helping me. WHY DIDN'T SHE HELP ME? I asked her for guidance in October and she threw a book at me, came into my classroom, had the kids rearrange their desks and clean the classroom. That was IT. Anyway, I blubbered on too much in her office.

Here's the best part. The **** actually had the NERVE to ask me, stone-faced, deadpan, "Did you ever student teach before?" WHAT? Holy mother of GOD. This is akin to asking a first year medical resident if he/she had ever gone to medical school. What a fucking passive-agressive, nasty, mean, hurtful thing to say. Why didn't she grow a pair and just say "I think you SUCK as a teacher." I actually LAUGHED - a short, almost bitter laugh, OUT LOUD when she asked me that. I laughed at her, and laughed at the insanity of someone - a principal asking me this. What kind of principal would HIRE a teacher who hadn't student taught? I simply could NOT believe she asked me this. First of all, any semi-decent school HAS to hire people who've student taught. It's the LAW. You HAVE to student teach in order to get a teaching credential.

Then she went on and on about how people told her she just had to be a teacher because she was such a NATURAL with kids, blah, blah, vomit, blah. The fact that she and I, and her EGO fit into the same room was amazing. I obviously don't have the intuitive, magical abilities to handle these kids. I mean, the only thing she admitted - in the sense of NOT blaming me for EVERYTHING - the only thing she said was this: "This (meaning the area I teach in, and the school I teach in) is the hardest population I've ever dealt with." No shit, Sherlock. It's the hardest place I've ever been in my entire life. I told her they couldn't pay me enough to come back and deal with this again. I will happily go back to the gang-infested ghettos with kids who can't speak English. The people I deal with NOW are FAR FAR more fucked up than those kids.

Here comes the best part, after the "Did you ever student teach" question. I believe, in my perception, she tried to get me to quit, right then and there. She kept saying, over and over "You're not being heroic here. You're not being a hero. You can quit." Over and over. There aren't words filthy enough in any language to describe what I think of this sub-human scumbag. For a millisecond in her office, I thought of quitting. But I am not a quitter. And knowing that for whatever reasons, she wants me to quit, just solidified in my mind that I will NOT QUIT. I felt like saying "Lady you just convinced me to stay until the very last second of the very last day. Whatever bothers you, I will do. It will make me JOYOUSLY HAPPY to know that my presence here might bother you." Suck on that.

So after an hour of being insulted by her, I go home and have another shell-shocked weekend. But something wonderful happened last weekend. I finally got ANGRY - and ANGRY enough to do something about it. Fuck her - she's not going to give me a recommendation and I wouldn't want one from her. I just want to finish the year - because I finish what I start, and I have, believe it or not, bonded with about 2/3 of the class and how unfair would it be to these kids, spoiled or not, that their teacher, whom they actually LIKE, leaves them with less than two months to the end of their final year in elementary school?

I have NOT been an even near-perfect teacher. I have made so many mistakes, some big and some small. This has been the hardest job I've ever done. But as God is my witness I have always tried my hardest, done my best, and I have always had the welfare of my students at heart. It's really NOT their fault they're spoiled; it's their parents fault. I have letters from parents - glowing letters, thanking me for this, for that, for caring so much, for going above and beyond. Because I have - I did - that's just who I am. Even if I HATED this job - and God have I - I still tried to do my best. I made a pact to educate and be there for 31 kids. I signed a contract. I will not run away because it's hard or because some bitch thinks I'm the teaching equivalent of Nurse Ratched.

So Monday morning, I send a big envelope down to my principal. In it was a green professional development sheet that I needed her to sign and approve (I attended a Children's Literature Conference last weekend for my staff development hours). I also made copies of the FIVE glowing letters of recommendation I received from my student teaching supervisors and master teachers. I also took 21 samples of parent emails and made copies of them to show the Bitch that while yes, I may have parents who are complaining - I have many more that have spent the year quite happy with me.

I wrote the Bitch a short, highly diplomatic letter. I made sure she could show it on CNN and no one would think any less of me. I told her "After a relaxing weekend I've decided to continue on with my class and see them through the end of their 5th grade year in the happiest and healthiest way possible." Translated: I'm not leaving you nasty ****, deal with it. I admitted I'm new, I've made mistakes, but as you can see from these parent emails, I've always had the kids' best interests at heart. And finally, to ease your mind of any worries...yes I did student teach...here are the 5 letters from my student teaching supervisors and master teachers...each of whom has 20+ years of teaching experience." That last part was a not so passive- agressive dig at my principal - who ONLY TAUGHT FIFTH GRADE for 4 years before she ditched the classroom and became an administrator. That makes me wonder a few things. She thinks she was the greatest teacher that ever lived. Was she really? Why such a short time in the classroom? How dedicated to students is she if she bailed so fast and went for the $$$$ and power in administration?

Also, if she's so disappointed in me and so worried about my performance, how come she hasn't come to visit my classroom since January 8th? It's going on 4 fucking months and the bitch just doesn't care. If I'm such a nightmare, why hasn't she checked up on me? Because even she admitted I'm an excellent teacher and while it may not always be totally peaceful in my class, deep down, she has to know there's nothing to worry about. In my letter I told her I thought that despite some bumps over the past year, that my kids were having a good fifth grade year.

So.....a couple of strange things. One, she hasn't returned my green staff development form to me. That's odd. Usually she signs it and it's put right back in my box. Makes me wonder if she's not keeping it, so she can call me in for another emotional beat down. Guess what? It's not going to happen. Since she seems to enjoy emotionally battering people on Fridays, I was a little on edge yesterday. However if she wanted to talk with me, either she didn't call, or couldn't reach me, as our class was out of the classroom the last two hours of the day. I don't trust the fat fuck as far as I can throw her. I was going to call my union; but I've held off. Sadly it's my words against hers. I don't want to call in anymore people into this mess than I need to. BUT if she calls me to her office again, I am going to ask that someone else be present. I won't sit there alone with her. It can be the office manager for all I care. Oh and I won't go in on Friday afternoon. Fuck if she ruins another weekend for me.

Despite all the shit, something amazing happened yesterday. I have a student, let's call her Maggie. Her mom is a professional mommy and Maggie is an only child. Her mom has been up my ass about something or other ALL year. I've tried to be diplomatic, etc. So Maggie has a severe thyroid problem and I was told at the beginning of the year that she also suffered from anxiety. Ok. Well, I've never actually seen or experienced Maggie having any anxiety issues. Until this past Friday. She asked me in the morning if she could go to the nurse as she wasn't feeling well. Fine. She comes back to class. A few minutes later she needs to go back to the nurse. Fine. She says maybe she should eat some crackers; I say, go ahead. Cut to two minutes before lunch: I'm with my math class. The nurse calls me and asks me if anything strange/upsetting happened in class with Maggie. I say "No. Why?" Seems Maggie is downstairs absolutely coming apart at the seams. Sounds like she's having a major panic attack. Could I come down? Nurse says "I can't get a hold of her mother." No problem, says I. Lunch bell rings. I come down. I see Maggie in the bathroom, sitting on the bed. She's shaking ALL OVER. She's pale. Her lips are quivering. She's practically hysterical. The nurse is trying to get her to drink some juice. She can barely swallow. I'm calling it - a full blown panic attack. I sit down next to her. I start rubbing her back a bit and talking gently to her. I remember the 20 million times I've been in this same place. Did I ever mention I suffered for years with a pretty serious panic disorder? Even as a child I had a couple of whammy panic attacks - although back then, I didn't know what they were. As a young adult though - I took the Panic Attack train to hell and back. I know exactly what it's like.

I told Maggie I'd had this happen at her age. I reassured her that her mom was probably out running errands...shopping...maybe for the weekend...I started talking to her and asking her questions....because the WORST thing a person in the midst of total panic can do is sit and fixate on their physical symptoms. The heart will only race faster, the hands will only feel more pin-prickly, the person will just keep spiraling out of control. I get Maggie calmed down to the point where she wants some air. We walk outside to the front of the office. We sit outside. We talk about everything - I see her calming down in front of me. Suddenly several girls from my class and another class come down to see how Maggie's doing. They know she was at the nurse. I've got a posse of 11 year olds around me now. We're talking, we're laughing.

Another student of mine, with her own posse, goes to see the principal. She wants to start a school newspaper. Yeah, a little late in the year. I don't know where she got this idea. But she's going to leave it for her third grade sister to pick it up and take over when she leaves. I've never seen my student, let's call her Cathy - so excited. She is just BURSTING with joy at the thought of doing this paper. Thankfully, the principal says "yes" - they can do it. BUT - they need a teacher sponsor. Cathy and her posse hint around - then they ask me. I said I'd be honored to be their teacher sponsor. I have NO idea what the hell I'm getting into with this little project but I don't care. My student wants to do it and I think they can and I think it'll be a nice legacy for her. I told her she can always be known as "Founding Editor." She's wildly happy. Maggie is totally fine now. All the girls and I are laughing and talking. Lunch is over. I wasn't hungry so I didn't care that I didn't eat.

Maggie is still too afraid to come back to class; but eventually, she does. She comes back and the nurse tells me they finally got ahold of the mother. The nurse asks me what I did. She can't believe I got the kid so calmed down. I told the nurse I used to get those - I know what the girls was going through. It's called empathy. I could TRULY feel what she was feeling. I knew to get her out of herself was the only answer. I did something right. I wanted to cry. An entire YEAR of being told every tiny thing I've done wrong (my principal even scolded me for leaving construction paper out on a computer desk) and for once, I knew I'd done something right and good.

The day was over. Sadly, I don't think the principal will know what I did with Maggie. No matter. I just walked back to my classroom and said "No one's ever going to tell me I'm not good with kids again." NO ONE.