Saturday, August 30, 2003
I laughed as I left the school today -- out loud. I'm still in disbelief that in two days I will have class after class of high school students looking up at me, waiting for me to take charge, to teach, to be entertaining, to be insightful. It's so unbelievable that I find it funny. I think the head night time custodian heard my giggle. We were leaving at the same time -- about 4pm on a Saturday, only two days until the first day of school. In a thick accent, he said, "Going home?"
"Yes," I said, and laughed a little again.
"Have a good weekend," he replied.
"Thanks," I said. "I'll try. I'm a little nervous, though."
He peered up at me through thick glasses. The 100 degree heat off the pavement swirled around us. "You are new?" he asked.
"Yes. I'm Ashley Mullen, a new English teacher. What is your job here?"
"I'm Chin-Ha, evening custodian." He looked at me again, and batted his hand. "You are young, and in good shape."
I took this to mean that he thought I'd be a fine teacher. "Well, thanks," I said. "Nice to meet you."
Just moments before this, I was in my classroom, hanging a Shakespeare poster, making seating charts and muttering about my room space. Unfortunately, I have one class of American Literature (Junior "Core" English) with 35 students. Thirty five sixteen year olds in a space the size of my living room is just plain scary. Even typing that sentence makes me feel crowded and clausterphobic. And there are larger problems. As of now, two days before school, I have 31 seats in my classroom. I might be able to squeeze in one more desk, but NO WAY can I cram four desks in there. I have chosen to pretend that four students either won't come, or will be very, very small. We're talking hobbit-size. Invisible or ghost students would be even better. They could spend the year haunting me and at least I'd understand why.
All my classes aren't this crowded, though (praise the Bellevue taxpayers). My two freshmen classes are both under 17, and my senior class (Shakespeare and Myth) is only 24. Those are great numbers -- easy to do many different activities with them. The American Lit class will have to practice being very, very still, and very, very quiet. Hopefully nobody will have to use the bathroom or leave their seat for any reason at any time...
I keep thinking there must be something I'm forgetting for the first day of school. I talk to myself, deciding how to make the best first impression on my students. I want to appear confident, capable, serious, yet caring. I want them to know that I want them to succeed, have fun, become high-functioning intellectuals, and learn the basics of Language Arts. The best way I can think to do that is to explain my passion, my expectations, and my love for teaching. If I'm honest, I assume they will appreciate that.
I'll let you know after my first day.......
Ashley
"Yes," I said, and laughed a little again.
"Have a good weekend," he replied.
"Thanks," I said. "I'll try. I'm a little nervous, though."
He peered up at me through thick glasses. The 100 degree heat off the pavement swirled around us. "You are new?" he asked.
"Yes. I'm Ashley Mullen, a new English teacher. What is your job here?"
"I'm Chin-Ha, evening custodian." He looked at me again, and batted his hand. "You are young, and in good shape."
I took this to mean that he thought I'd be a fine teacher. "Well, thanks," I said. "Nice to meet you."
Just moments before this, I was in my classroom, hanging a Shakespeare poster, making seating charts and muttering about my room space. Unfortunately, I have one class of American Literature (Junior "Core" English) with 35 students. Thirty five sixteen year olds in a space the size of my living room is just plain scary. Even typing that sentence makes me feel crowded and clausterphobic. And there are larger problems. As of now, two days before school, I have 31 seats in my classroom. I might be able to squeeze in one more desk, but NO WAY can I cram four desks in there. I have chosen to pretend that four students either won't come, or will be very, very small. We're talking hobbit-size. Invisible or ghost students would be even better. They could spend the year haunting me and at least I'd understand why.
All my classes aren't this crowded, though (praise the Bellevue taxpayers). My two freshmen classes are both under 17, and my senior class (Shakespeare and Myth) is only 24. Those are great numbers -- easy to do many different activities with them. The American Lit class will have to practice being very, very still, and very, very quiet. Hopefully nobody will have to use the bathroom or leave their seat for any reason at any time...
I keep thinking there must be something I'm forgetting for the first day of school. I talk to myself, deciding how to make the best first impression on my students. I want to appear confident, capable, serious, yet caring. I want them to know that I want them to succeed, have fun, become high-functioning intellectuals, and learn the basics of Language Arts. The best way I can think to do that is to explain my passion, my expectations, and my love for teaching. If I'm honest, I assume they will appreciate that.
I'll let you know after my first day.......
Ashley
