A Shift in Timing Saves My Bacon

This morning, I went into school unsure of whether my prof (Dr. D.) was coming to observe me, but prepared anyway. And nervous, because if she came in the morning, it would be while I was reading poetry to the second graders who so far were getting a bit wacky in response to the color poems Mrs. K. had me reading to them. I did decide to skip the one about the color red because one line implies bleeding, at which point yesterday a chorus of "Ew!" started. . . and continued after every line, regardless of the fact that none of the other lines were gross. I felt so defeated. Yeah, I don't think this is the school level for me.

So I checked my e-mail at the library assistant's computer, and there was a message from Dr. D. saying she'd be coming tomorrow morning. New panic set in, because it was a half day and as the result of some teachers' complaints, the schedule was flipped to have the afternoon classes in the morning. On Wednesdays, that's only one class. So we scrambled to schedule a few more--not supposed to do that, but some of the teachers of the classes we usually have Wednesday morning were cool with it.

Of course, about an hour after we do that rearranging, Dr. D. calls the library. She's pulling into the parking lot of the high school in Jersey where she's observing one of my classmates, and she wants to know if I'd like her to come in the afternoon today.

Oh, yes, please let me get this over with--and with the first graders.

We're reading and discussing a story about hedgehogs and winter clothes (vocab words: woolen and gander).

Everything went fine--and Dr. D. cracked up when one of the students said his dog "got sick and was wearing [his] underwear." First graders will tell you everything if you let them. Definitely not the people with whom you entrust highly classified information.

It's funny: Mrs. K. thinks I do well with the students. Dr. D. said I did well with the students. (Not to mention I managed to teach all day today with a tremendous headache.) So, it's something I am capable of doing, but I just don't feel my heart is there. It's kind of like how I was with playing the piano as a kid--technically good, but pretty far detached. Part of me is baffled by that--how could I be good at doing something, and not like it?

The other part is, I should be having fun with these kids, but I feel as if what little fun I had left in me as an adult got stamped out. I actually said that to Dr. D., and she assured me that it does come back--for some people, it's when they start raising kids of their own. Good to know, 'cause right now if someone asked me what I enjoy doing I'd have to take some time to figure it out. The last three years have been kind of on the low end of the fun scale. Life might not be one big party once I have my MS-LIS in hand, but it might be a bit easier to breathe once school is done.

I also got the opportunity to talk with Dr. D. about what was going on in class (my class), and all the messed up things about the program. I think I got my point across, and some things will be changed for the better. I also found out that I get another week post-student-teaching to get my portfolio together for grading. A welcome reprieve, because I was stressing a bit about how I was going to get everything drawn up (can we say hardly any lesson plans typed?), copied, and assembled in time.

Some of the people at school asked me if I felt "off the hook" now that my second observation is done. Hardly, because I still have schoolwork due every week, not to mention a budget analysis and the big ol' portfolio.

Also because I'm going to spend the next three weeks doing my best to try to have fun with the kids.