It’s currently 56 degrees and rain is pattering on the drain pipe as I am typing this from my patio wearing my flannel pajama bottoms and a sweatshirt. When I envisioned this day, I pictured 75, sunny, tank tops and shorts, but the coffee is warm, the birds are chirping, and y’all, it is the very first day of my summer vacation! And I could sit here all morning drinking coffee and listening to the birds and that would be all I have to do today. That makes me smile and breathe deep.
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Me, smiling, and breathing deep |
I like to take the end of a school year to reflect; I do a better job in late May than late December of seeing what the year brought. This year brought an awful lot of change. New state, new school, new grade being taught. I was kind of caught up in a whirlwind of new and being the new person until about January. I was in my own self-imposed vortex of laying kind of low, being charming and agreeable, and seeing how things were done. Yuck! Charming and agreeable are not how I normally run. I also ran out of all estrogen in my body at this time so there were some bleak weeks, I will admit.
For a while, I really missed my old school. My own confident self striding around answering to “Coach” and “Hey Miss” while joking with my teacher friends in the hallway between classes. I missed teaching my Women’s class and the room full of avid learners who pushed me to learn more and do better. I missed the developed humor and sarcasm of a Junior or Senior in high school. I missed the comfort and familiarity of teaching what I knew. I have to say that even when I was wallowing in what I missed, I was very conscious of how great this new school was; I just had to get used to middle schoolers.
If it has been awhile since you were in middle school or had a middle schooler, let me remind you that these are indeed some of the worst years of your/their lives. Friends are friends until they are not, your body is changing and you know that everyone around you knows, and because no one is confident, every one acts overconfident. Boys this age truly believe cologne or body spray masks stink. It does not; it makes a new level of stink. And they touch each other all the time. ALLLLLLLLL the time. Half of the girls have hit puberty and maturity and look on with abject horror. The other half compete with the boys, not by touching, but by being as loud as they can be at all times. They also make up words and yell them at each other and use them in sentences. Take my eyes if I have to read “skibbidy” as an answer one more time.
I think it was about November when I came out of my shell shock and started to see past the yelling and stink and carnage of my classroom management. This may be around the same time a kid lost a tooth in class and I realized that they were still just kind of babies. I stopped expecting what I was used to and just tried to appreciate what was different. I saw hands shoot into the air to answer a question. I realized that this age is game to try all kinds of new things if you explain what is happening exactly 45 times in a row and with pictures. They have a desire to learn new things if not necessarily a desire to read or write about what they read. They question everything. And, they can be really, really sweet. They sign their notes “love” because they are still little and cute. I remembered from myself and my own kids that they want you to see them, recognize who they are right now, and understand that somehow, they will never have a pencil for class. They can be so patient and kind to others. They speak in Polish to the student from Ukraine so that he can be part of the conversation. They take the student from Mexico who only speaks Spanish under their wing and show him it is okay to laugh at your terrible attempts at Spanish. They love a Kahoot and winning and a Jolly Rancher. There is joy amidst the chaos when you start looking and I am so glad that I started looking.
The school and district I work at are truly magical and I have recognized that from the start. Amazing admin, teachers who have been there 20, 25, 30 years! They have included me in all things from the first day and checked in with me and questioned why anyone would move from Texas to Illinois. They gave me advice and comfort and as I stopped confining myself to my self-imposed vortex of being charming and agreeable, I realized they were also providing me with community. And you definitely need a warm feeling like that when it is negative 100 degrees with the wind chill.
One of the first days of class this year, my terrible 7th period asked me to “yee-haw”. I was from Texas and in their minds, everyone from Texas would say “yee-haw”. I declined and they pestered and I said not until the last day of school. I will be damned if these kids who can’t remember a book or a writing utensil or when things are due remembered allllllll year that I said I would yee-haw on the very last day. On that very last day, someone shouted “Ms. McMahon, it’s the last day and you promised you would yee-haw” and the rest of the class screamed that I promised and even my Ukrainian student nodded in stoic agreement. So, I quieted them down, told them all eyes on me, and proceeded to pretend to swing a rope over my head while letting loose the loudest, most Texan-sounding YEE-HAW while they hooted and tripped over themselves and banged the desks with excitement. It was an insane sort of magical moment and it’s what keeps teachers teaching.
I will be happy to start next year with this past year behind me. I also plan to have absolutely no contact with anyone between the ages of 10 and 13 for the next three months to rest my weary ears. If you need me, I will be sipping coffee, listening to the birds, and smiling.
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Not the best view, but the birds abound. |