I've been feeling lots of unresolved anger lately. Chalk it up to an upcoming NCA visit (The big honkin' queen of inspections) , people thinking that I'm vapid because I refrain from extending our mindnumbingly long meetings by forcing my opinions on my colleagues, and being unable to find a positive outlet for my frustrations and the constant "Suuurrreee!!! I'd love to do that, fuckyouverymuch!" do it all attitude that I've become known for at work. In all fairness, I think lots of teachers feel that way. There are so many responsibilities above and beyond the classroom. The most important being that you are expected to be a complete saint at all times. Specifically, having your lower parts hanging out of the back of your friends' truck cab bedecked in a skimpy pot plant bikini which was before this point covered modestly by a batik dress until your inebriated roommate lifts it up at the only stoplight on the island and gives it a huge, resounding smack and kiss before yelling your name out ala Rocky's "ADRIENNE!" is not good for your teaching reputation, no Ma'am. Especially if the parents of one of your students are in the vehicle directly behind you. Yup, directly *ahem* behind you. And so begins life in the petri dish.
Discussing my frustrations with dh tonight, I was suddenly reminded of a great teacher I used to work with here, Angela. She was amazing. She was the kind of teacher that the kids respected and that other teachers went to for advice. I mostly remember her because she had such great spirit. And she taught at the middle school - which, as we've already discussed ad nauseum, is HELL - every day! I know she had frustrations, we used to talk about them. It was how she dealt with them that set her apart.
Angela was tall and slim, and always extremely well put together. She fit the stereotype of health and happiness (Hello? Poster Child for Walking Perfection? Insert her.) in that her skin was glowing, her face was smiling, and her hair was always in place. In the classroom? Her lessons were always planned, her projects projected and the kids? Always competently academically challenged. I loved to just stand within ear shot of her and listen to her talk.
"Girrrrrrllllllll," she'd roll, because she never spoke in just one syllable. All the better to draw you in, my dear. "Girrrrrrllllll," just like syrup all over your ears and neck until you felt lulled by the vibrations of her vocal chords. "You'll just have to take a step back, honey, because if you don't? I'll cut you." she'd purr with a big smile and wink. And just to make sure that the kids understood, she'd place her hand on their shoulder, look them in the eye, and say "Okay?" smiling the whole time, before she turned and went into her classroom. Just like that.
Although at first I thought, "Did she just say what I think she said?", NOW I realize it was her personal version of puttingthatshitbehindyou, something I suck at. Judging from her shining countenance, I think it was a damn useful tool. I have neither her charm, nor vibrance, but I think that the next time unnammed coworker does her eye roll and snort at me because I didn't get the information I was supposed to because she forgot to e-mail me but somehow that's my fault and she needs it right now I'll whip that baby right out and give her a big ole kiss.
Okay?