Wednesday, September 05, 2007
A Brief Bout of September Schadenfreude
It's getting to be that time of year once again. School has not yet resumed at Underwood High School, although professional development days are back in full swing. For better or for worse, I can only imagine what my former colleagues are suffering through at this point. I imagine it will have something to do with standardized test scores and the need for teachers to take greater disciplinary control of their classroms. Breakout groups may be involved in some way.
Really, I'm just guessing because for the first time in a long while I have no regular contact with Underwood High or its faculty. This is because my girlfriend, who used to provide me with semi-regular updates, is no longer working at Underwood. This is unfortunate, especially for those who remember when this blog used to deal with educational issues more heavily...back in the halcyon days of 2004 or so when crazy students, inane administrators, and contradictory school district policy were this blog's bread and butter.
Not that I'm wishing that I could turn back the clock or anything like that. Besides damaging the space-time continuum, that would also leave me clutching fervently at my sanity when September time rolled around...especially during that limbo zone between Labor Day and the actual start of the school year when hope built up that perhaps the kids would be better prepared or better behaved for high school and that this year, this year would be different in an entirely positive way!
Now, I can just sit back and think about those days and how very glad I am to be on a graduate student's schedule. Like this evening, when I ran into a teacher friend of mine from my old school district at the supermarket.
Q: Why would I run into a friend from the old school district at the supermarket when I now am hobnobbing with the elite shoppers who inhabit the environs of Old Ivy?
A: I was doing research at an archive back near my old stomping grounds, and given that I had just spent seven hours straight with no lunch sifting through seventy year old documents, I needed to grab food before I set off on my drive home.
To continue, I ran into this friend of mine while waiting in the checkout line and we started chatting. He was also puzzled as to why I was shopping for food so far from Old Ivy, but once we dealt with that conversational stumbling block, discussion turned as it so often does to work. My friend lamented this time of year, as I would have myself back in the day. Any of time of year, he noted, generally could muster some enthusiasm for the classroom, but these twilight moments of summer, the grim march of workshops and preparedness seminars that leave no time to set up one's classroom or plan for the first few days...they can drain the life out of even the most capable and enthusiastic of teachers faster than a vampire at a convention of hemophiliacs.
Which was when I foolishly mentioned that I don't start classes until two weeks from now. And that I only will likely have to attend classes three days a week. And while I began to mention my winter break stretching from late December through early February, I was cut off before explaining that I would have to work on a research paper, read for generals, or both during the majority of that time.
Luckily, this friend has a good sense of humor and recognized my schadenfreude as that of the experienced veteran who has shared the same pain rather than purely malicious. We parted on good terms with the promise of possible pub trivia competitions the next time I swung through town. But I can't help but wonder how I would have reacted had the situations been reversed...
It's getting to be that time of year once again. School has not yet resumed at Underwood High School, although professional development days are back in full swing. For better or for worse, I can only imagine what my former colleagues are suffering through at this point. I imagine it will have something to do with standardized test scores and the need for teachers to take greater disciplinary control of their classroms. Breakout groups may be involved in some way.
Really, I'm just guessing because for the first time in a long while I have no regular contact with Underwood High or its faculty. This is because my girlfriend, who used to provide me with semi-regular updates, is no longer working at Underwood. This is unfortunate, especially for those who remember when this blog used to deal with educational issues more heavily...back in the halcyon days of 2004 or so when crazy students, inane administrators, and contradictory school district policy were this blog's bread and butter.
Not that I'm wishing that I could turn back the clock or anything like that. Besides damaging the space-time continuum, that would also leave me clutching fervently at my sanity when September time rolled around...especially during that limbo zone between Labor Day and the actual start of the school year when hope built up that perhaps the kids would be better prepared or better behaved for high school and that this year, this year would be different in an entirely positive way!
Now, I can just sit back and think about those days and how very glad I am to be on a graduate student's schedule. Like this evening, when I ran into a teacher friend of mine from my old school district at the supermarket.
Q: Why would I run into a friend from the old school district at the supermarket when I now am hobnobbing with the elite shoppers who inhabit the environs of Old Ivy?
A: I was doing research at an archive back near my old stomping grounds, and given that I had just spent seven hours straight with no lunch sifting through seventy year old documents, I needed to grab food before I set off on my drive home.
To continue, I ran into this friend of mine while waiting in the checkout line and we started chatting. He was also puzzled as to why I was shopping for food so far from Old Ivy, but once we dealt with that conversational stumbling block, discussion turned as it so often does to work. My friend lamented this time of year, as I would have myself back in the day. Any of time of year, he noted, generally could muster some enthusiasm for the classroom, but these twilight moments of summer, the grim march of workshops and preparedness seminars that leave no time to set up one's classroom or plan for the first few days...they can drain the life out of even the most capable and enthusiastic of teachers faster than a vampire at a convention of hemophiliacs.
Which was when I foolishly mentioned that I don't start classes until two weeks from now. And that I only will likely have to attend classes three days a week. And while I began to mention my winter break stretching from late December through early February, I was cut off before explaining that I would have to work on a research paper, read for generals, or both during the majority of that time.
Luckily, this friend has a good sense of humor and recognized my schadenfreude as that of the experienced veteran who has shared the same pain rather than purely malicious. We parted on good terms with the promise of possible pub trivia competitions the next time I swung through town. But I can't help but wonder how I would have reacted had the situations been reversed...
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