Stomple.

I apologize for a contribution to the already-whiny blogosphere, but I am feeling stomped this week.

I wrote that “stompled” the first time around, and I think that describes it pretty well, too. I feel stompled.

My day started with the sour taste of an email from a coworker, whose veiled bitchiness boiled down to how dare you imply that I should help out with this team project, after (less veiled) bitching about how she never knows what is going on with the rest of the team. The sour taste turned to pure nausea when I got an angry phone call from a parent about a situation that I wish I’d been informed about. Perhaps by my supervisors? Except right now I’m my own supervisor, since my lead teacher is out on medical leave, and through some glitch (I think because I am computer savvy) all her responsibilities have shifted to me. Ergo a million more interruptions in a profession which is already packed to the seams with daily interruptions. I may have some killer excel skills (at least comparatively speaking) but I am a second year teacher. I am still struggling to hash out my own classroom management, especially this week, and between the normal travails of being a new teacher and the above-and-beyond things that I always seem to get involved with, I am overwhelmed. And stompled.

My primary students are really the only people keeping my spirits up. They are shorter than me and like being in my class and love helping out and tell me that I look like a rockstar sometimes. Please, let’s just sing Spanish ditties and work on pictures of our pets and use the language that you so adeptly soak up like adorable little sponges.

During one of my crying-thinking-musing sessions yesterday (which is how I spend most of my commutes) I was thinking about other new teachers I know, and how the first years are so hard, and I’m thinking that one of the difficult things is the lack of progress markers. How do you know you’re a good teacher? A neat, organized classroom? Completed assignments from a decent percentage of the student body? A peaceful classroom environment? Mutually supportive relationships with other teachers? Good communication with parents? Wait… should your students actually be learning something? What if none of those things are happening? What if sometimes you have little bits and pieces – a surprising smattering of Noun-Adjective agreement in the 2nd grade, a positive phone call to an appreciative parent about a kid who you’re really proud of – and then utter hell the other 99% of the week?

I guess that’s when you go back to school for Accounting, or move into the alley in a cardboard box now that it’s thawing outside, or just hide in your classroom and cry during your prep time so that you can hit rock bottom five more times before the day is done. Maybe the brief windows of opportunity creak open more frequently. Maybe the success-to-failure ratios start tipping the other direction. Maybe you get the callouses you need. Here’s hoping, because it’s not even really a question for me. I’ve been teaching for nearly two years now, and I plan on continuing to teach for at least a few decades more, con dos huevos. Suck it, failure.

Advertisements

2 Responses to Stomple.

  1. chelsea says:

    yes. suck it.

  2. I’m sorry it’s been so hard for you, but I’m proud of you for your perseverance and your willingness to take it on. And I’m sure it does get better ­čÖé

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: