Sunday, October 31, 2004
Fear Itself
A beautiful day in the neighborhood. The foliage has finally started to change noticably and the view off my balcony has transformed into a spectacular array of colors. In some ways, with the city skyline in the background, it is as nice a view as anything you might find in my hometown, although I do miss the mountains. (So what if they were really glorified hills? They were called mountains and that's good enough for me.) Walking around outside today I wonder if this might be the last truly beautiful day of the year, before November comes in its sluggish gray way to dampen my doorstep with rain and slush. No matter, I plan to enjoy this day of Halloween, even if unlike years past I will not be in costume seeking out sugary sustenance or attending (or participating in) the pageant and spectacle that is a juggling fire show. No, I think I shall grill. That has been my custom these past few Sundays, and I do not think I need to vary it. Not yet.
You may be wondering about the title of this entry given the relatively upbeat tone of its introduction. The obvious connection of course is with Halloween and the daylight savings jump forcing an extra hour of darkness into my night time. But the less obvious connection has to do with Underwood High School, as so much of my life does these days...when I'm not consumed with poorly run graduate courses or other niggling personal affairs.
This school year continues to be full of interesting challenges, not the least of which is the implementation of a district-wide core curriculum, emaning that I am not only told what to teach, but also when and how to teach it. This would be well and good if my students were on a ninth grade reading/mathematics level...but some of them are much lower. How much lower? Let's say 4th grade as a baseline and work from there. And that's just cognitive level, not emotional maturity. In any event, grades have not been that great this year. The last test, class averages ranged from the 20s to the 40s...and that was curved. I've taken to posting up the averages now, and the kids seem to be getting into the spirit of the inter-class competition, if nothing else.
Of course my students will claim that the low scores and what-have-you are my fault. And many days I fear they may be right. After all, how qualified am I to really teach students about meteorology or earth science...or much else for that matter? What the heck do I know? And since students refuse to take responsibility for their actions, the obvious culprit must be me. The logical part of my brain says these attacks are ridiculous attempts to get under my skin. The doubting emotional part tends to wonder, but what if they're right?
Which is why I found myself at Underwood until 7 PM last Friday night grading papers. Because even if my teaching left a lot to be desired, I figured I could at least forget about that by getting my work done. Besides, it wasn't like I had anywhere else to go. A friend's birthday party that evening was not planned until 9. So I had plenty of time! And, surprisingly, I got my work done. Even got a chance to have a long chat with my vice-principal, department chair, and the custodian as part of the deal. But then, as I walked out the marble front hall, past the statue of Nike we keep there (as anomalous a piece of sculpture as I've ever seen), I realized something. It was indeed very late, especially given that most teachers had left at 3 following our professional development for the day. And there were no custodians in the area. And oh yes...the doors would all likely be...
LOCKED!
Yep. I was locked in. On a Friday. With no one around.
Not a good feeling.
Fortunately I had two things on my side. First, a cell phone, and second (and more importantly) a knowledge of the custodial entrance which is almost always unlocked even on weekends. So, I break out the old phone, call up the Indefatigible Mom and start chatting with her about the situation...and a good thing I did. Because as soon as I got outside, I realized something else. There were no security guards or police around the building. Which might explain the fact that students now scurried around on the building grounds, the basketball court, and the surrounding sidewalks like cockroaches. Like in that recent cell phone ad...they'd gone nocturnal. For the first time since I've been at Underwood, I actually was nervous, no...afraid, for my safety. I just kept chatting on the phone figuring that no one would disturb me if they knew that someone was on the line, and for the most part I was right. A long walk around the building to the parking lot later and I was in my car and safely on the way home...but there was a moment or two where I got really freaked out.
Underwood is like a castle, you see. And at night on Friday, with the full moon half covered by clouds it resembled nothing so much as a haunted fortress from ancient days. And these students , were they students or were they spectres?, they haunted the grounds, afraid to show their faces by light of day. But all too willing to reveal themselves at night.
What future remains for the ghosts?
What future remains for us all?
As Edgar Poe once wrote:
That motley drama- oh, be sure
It shall not be forgot!
With its Phantom chased for evermore,
By a crowd that seize it not,
Through a circle that ever returneth in
To the self-same spot,
And much of Madness, and more of Sin,
And Horror the soul of the plot.
Happy Halloween...
A beautiful day in the neighborhood. The foliage has finally started to change noticably and the view off my balcony has transformed into a spectacular array of colors. In some ways, with the city skyline in the background, it is as nice a view as anything you might find in my hometown, although I do miss the mountains. (So what if they were really glorified hills? They were called mountains and that's good enough for me.) Walking around outside today I wonder if this might be the last truly beautiful day of the year, before November comes in its sluggish gray way to dampen my doorstep with rain and slush. No matter, I plan to enjoy this day of Halloween, even if unlike years past I will not be in costume seeking out sugary sustenance or attending (or participating in) the pageant and spectacle that is a juggling fire show. No, I think I shall grill. That has been my custom these past few Sundays, and I do not think I need to vary it. Not yet.
You may be wondering about the title of this entry given the relatively upbeat tone of its introduction. The obvious connection of course is with Halloween and the daylight savings jump forcing an extra hour of darkness into my night time. But the less obvious connection has to do with Underwood High School, as so much of my life does these days...when I'm not consumed with poorly run graduate courses or other niggling personal affairs.
This school year continues to be full of interesting challenges, not the least of which is the implementation of a district-wide core curriculum, emaning that I am not only told what to teach, but also when and how to teach it. This would be well and good if my students were on a ninth grade reading/mathematics level...but some of them are much lower. How much lower? Let's say 4th grade as a baseline and work from there. And that's just cognitive level, not emotional maturity. In any event, grades have not been that great this year. The last test, class averages ranged from the 20s to the 40s...and that was curved. I've taken to posting up the averages now, and the kids seem to be getting into the spirit of the inter-class competition, if nothing else.
Of course my students will claim that the low scores and what-have-you are my fault. And many days I fear they may be right. After all, how qualified am I to really teach students about meteorology or earth science...or much else for that matter? What the heck do I know? And since students refuse to take responsibility for their actions, the obvious culprit must be me. The logical part of my brain says these attacks are ridiculous attempts to get under my skin. The doubting emotional part tends to wonder, but what if they're right?
Which is why I found myself at Underwood until 7 PM last Friday night grading papers. Because even if my teaching left a lot to be desired, I figured I could at least forget about that by getting my work done. Besides, it wasn't like I had anywhere else to go. A friend's birthday party that evening was not planned until 9. So I had plenty of time! And, surprisingly, I got my work done. Even got a chance to have a long chat with my vice-principal, department chair, and the custodian as part of the deal. But then, as I walked out the marble front hall, past the statue of Nike we keep there (as anomalous a piece of sculpture as I've ever seen), I realized something. It was indeed very late, especially given that most teachers had left at 3 following our professional development for the day. And there were no custodians in the area. And oh yes...the doors would all likely be...
LOCKED!
Yep. I was locked in. On a Friday. With no one around.
Not a good feeling.
Fortunately I had two things on my side. First, a cell phone, and second (and more importantly) a knowledge of the custodial entrance which is almost always unlocked even on weekends. So, I break out the old phone, call up the Indefatigible Mom and start chatting with her about the situation...and a good thing I did. Because as soon as I got outside, I realized something else. There were no security guards or police around the building. Which might explain the fact that students now scurried around on the building grounds, the basketball court, and the surrounding sidewalks like cockroaches. Like in that recent cell phone ad...they'd gone nocturnal. For the first time since I've been at Underwood, I actually was nervous, no...afraid, for my safety. I just kept chatting on the phone figuring that no one would disturb me if they knew that someone was on the line, and for the most part I was right. A long walk around the building to the parking lot later and I was in my car and safely on the way home...but there was a moment or two where I got really freaked out.
Underwood is like a castle, you see. And at night on Friday, with the full moon half covered by clouds it resembled nothing so much as a haunted fortress from ancient days. And these students , were they students or were they spectres?, they haunted the grounds, afraid to show their faces by light of day. But all too willing to reveal themselves at night.
What future remains for the ghosts?
What future remains for us all?
As Edgar Poe once wrote:
That motley drama- oh, be sure
It shall not be forgot!
With its Phantom chased for evermore,
By a crowd that seize it not,
Through a circle that ever returneth in
To the self-same spot,
And much of Madness, and more of Sin,
And Horror the soul of the plot.
Happy Halloween...
