Actual picture from my place of work. There are more of them.
It’s strange to think, that there are schools out there where no one in staff cries. Where there arent mousetraps set out in the teacher’s lounge. Where there are working computers.
It has started to come to my attention that the school where I work isn’t normal. That it isn’t normal to have such an overworked staff that there is crying on the daily. From adults. That it isn’t normal for your work to take so much from you that all you have energy for after work is to sleep.
Don’t take this the wrong way, I love my job. I gladly give all of me to it. Which might not be a healthy attitude but I digress.
…or the story on how time flies when (a million things happen at once) you’re having fun.
Because I am having fun. Honestly. Even when it’s hard. Even though I’ve had to scale down in my personal life just to survive the wear and tear of this term. There just isn’t much brain power left when you’re part-time parent to 25 six-year-olds. To those who don’t know it I’m a primary school teacher in my second year of teaching.
I want to share the story of one chaotic afternoon from a few weeks ago. All kids’ names have been changed.
What can I do now? What can I do to keep every single moment in my mind forever?
How is it possible that Daniella (my student assistant) and I no longer work together every day? How is it possible that I will never again enter 3B’s classroom and greet the sixteen little souls that I had been entrusted to look after and teach every day?
How can I keep the memories? What can keep me from forgetting? Deirdres smile every time she saw me and how we struggled to make sense of math problems. Luke’s tantrums. Even Jake’s stupid comments or how he insisted on bringing a fidget spinner into the classroom even though we had had no choice but to ban them.. Or how the majority of my kids seemed incapable of learning to stay quiet. Or stay seated.
Please help me remember. Playing games. Reading the fourth Harry Potter book for them. Marvin’s childish charm which made it impossible to stay mad at him no matter how difficult he had been. Katie and Maisie, my darling girls who have helped me so much. How Phoebe’s anger could be turned into creativity. How I’ve gotten at least one hug from Tina.
Or how when we were going to go and sing for the parents on the last day, I didn’t need to tell them – they just lined up behind me like a row of ducklings.
Or how Louise, one of my younger coworkers, would light up my day with a hug or even just a smile.
My classroom is so empty now. I cleaned all the text from the whiteboard. Took their drawings down. Cleaned. Wiped away our memories of tears and yelling and laughing and smiling. And learning of course.
How can it be over? Why isn’t it still January?
I seriously, seriously, seriously love my job.
(All kid’s names are changed)