That’s what I exclaimed when I leaped from my desk Thursday afternoon. It’s been three years since my last Spring Break, and I am taking full advantage of this one – by planning. Yes, I will be working on Spring Break, so don’t expect any lewd stories of inebriated regretful situations. Since I was slightly overwhelmed for the past few days, I will take this opportunity to recap the first two weeks of my tenure.
Day 1: Enter the Instructional Assistant
Imagine a 6′3″ bodybuilder with huge hands. And put a wig on him. This is my instructional assistant. We don’t get along right now, which is probably my fault to some extent, and hers for most. The problem is that she was thrust into the position of teaching the class over the past two months, following the untimely departure of the previous teacher. She was his assistant first, and then she had to teach a class that she is not quite qualified to teach. Add that to the emotional stress surrounding loss of a member of the staff. So I can understand where she’s coming from sometimes.
Unfortunately, when I arrived on Monday, a subtle power struggle emerged within our classrooms. I was not prepared for this, so when she handed the students an exam and made me grade it (still in the room) I did, and I didn’t say anything. And then she invented percentages based on the number of questions incorrect. Really. She didn’t use a calculator, which is fine, because she’s allegedly a “Math Major”. But for some reason, I don’t think that 20/27 is a 95%. But I was not in a position to say anything. Rather, I didn’t have the balls to call her out in front of the class.
All of that is fine. Forgivable, even. We could have had a chat, figured out how to work together best for the benefit of the kids, and salvaged their education together. However, she crossed a boundary from which there is no return. As a result of her action, we will be sworn enemies until the wrong is righted. She entered my tote for writing implements and without asking, removed the only red pen that was present. Maybe if it was a felt tipped pen, I could forgive her. Even if it were a mechanical pencil, or a red dry-erase marker, I could let it slide. But this pen was a member of the Pilot G-2 fine-tipped, assorted-colored, scribe-heaven set. A set which is now incomplete. This, my friends, is a serious affront to our professional relationship.
Days 2-4: Mostly Uneventful
The majority of the week was slow, in that, the students had portfolio presentations to prepare. I did begin my siege on the Instructional Assistant by getting to class on time and starting a lesson on presentations before she could interrupt.
On the plus side of things, I am practicing my Spanish daily, and I actually co-teach a class in Spanish. All of those words that I never thought I’d need, plus some more that I never learned. Total immersion. Also, who knew that my sophomoric propensity to look up swear words in the Spanish-English Dictionary would pay off? The students have grown accustomed to the Instructional Assistant who doesn’t speak Spanish, so they use quite vulgar vocabulary behind her back. Unfortunately, they don’t realize that my primary goal throughout my twelve years of Spanish instruction was to swear more effectively.
Day 5: Finders Keepers
I made my first confiscation as a teacher today. A student was looking through her backpack for an assignment that we were working on previously. A few papers fell out, and I picked them up to see if they were the missing homework. They were not, but they might be the greatest things in the world. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, may I introduce into evidence, Exhibit A. The defendant had around 12 copies of this for mass dispersion. As I read this list, I felt like I was in a Dave Chappelle sketch. There was no way that anyone would really write all of these words, let alone, in this order. But someone had, and it was my duty to share this priceless jewel of filthy creativity with the world.
