Tracks to Clementine

Heartburn

It is with me, the heartburn, a near-constant companion. I'm not sure what it's trying to tell me...except that I'm pregnant. But I already knew that, so, what gives, heartburn? I get it! I get it! Same to you, sore arms and sciatica and rusty-gate hips and anemia.

But kicking baby? You keep on at it.

Now let's move on to a Crazy Teacher update.

It should be declared that instead of being extry-irritated by these teachers (which I felt was immiment and so made a new little plan for myself) that I am instead in a state of calm that allows me to recognize that I only have to help them in their own goals. So, I'm framing their skills as going from not knowing how to boil water to knowing how to boil water, maybe even with a little salt added. I am not framing their skills as going from not knowing how to boil water to knowing how to rewire a lamp. This has made my perspective much clearer. And care free.

(Also: I'm never trying to get any of these teachers to teach like me or even to do what I would do in the classroom. It's just that it's typically much more difficult to feel at one with my pay scale when the pain scale rises so drastically.)

Crazy Teacher Number One: Eeyore
I took the ferry this morning. It was supposed to take just under 90 minutes, but instead there was major traffic and it took me over two hours. I did not like this, but when I finally got to the school they had saved some of their lunch for me and I ate it. Clearly, this school is not a public school. Unclearly, this school is a preschool that is just in a house and has 4-6 students (ages 3-5) depending on the day. The students are very very cute. One of them was talking about Chautaucqua and another said "did you say 'taco?'" This is okay by me.

Eeyore sounds nearly the same in person, but what is much much clearer is that she is mostly just down on herself and doesn't trust what she is doing. This is a very weird phenomenon at a school where there are so few students and only two teachers (both in their late 40s/early 50s). It's also sort of good because it makes me want to help her feel better about herself instead of making me want to punch her in the neck. We'll see: I still have to go there four more times. I was able to make it very clear that I am not there to do the work for her, but to serve as a consultant. This is an improvement, because the last time I spoke to her on the phone (for, like one hundred years) she said "can't you just tell me what to do? Theatre people are magic."

Crazy Teacher #2
This woman renewed my firm belief that all teacher training should include vocal training. She kinda sounds like Edith Bunker without the vocal range. The portion of her class that I observed was so boring that I...well, it was boring. What became clear--and what I'd forgotten from this summer when I met her--was that at the core of all of it she truly cares about her students. This is important, because it means that she will be invested in the work that we do together instead of just doing it because she's completing a clock hours requirement.

BUT! She does have a trait that irks me to no end and always will. She does the thing that makes me want to lead another awareness training called Not All Theare is Acting...and Not All Acting is Theatre. This came first after we were having a discussion about how I needed to leave the school parking lot before all the parents arrived to pick up their kids and I made a joke about how shabby my car was: "Really? I thought theatre would pay better." And then she referenced Julia Roberts. The second occurrence was part of her introduction of me to her students and she referenced Tom Hanks. These sorts of things always happen when teachers think they are being helpful. Very sweet, thank you, but so very wrong. (Not that the kids care or notice.)

In conclusion, the shammbatical has proven to be helpful in allowing me a return to instructional methods uncluttered by bile (discounting heartburn) and being four-and-a-half weeks away from maternity leave has allowed me to be quite generous and thoughtful with my remaining time.

Clarification: "maternity leave" is a just a convenient term because it is linked to the baby and everyone understands it as inarguable. In reality, it should really just be called "not working" because it's not like my employer (me) has set up any sort of actual plan beyond not accepting contracts.

Posted by Ida at October 19, 2007 05:50 PM