New school year

I think I get more nervous about the beginning of the school year than the kids. I even went back to school shopping. Although there are good things about back to school shopping as an adult: A: I have more money. B: I have better taste C: I am not at all concerned whether my peers think I'm cool. Or the kids, for that matter.

Of course, I have more back to school preparation to do than the kids. Besides just making sure I have a well stocked backpack, I have to have a syllabus, all my materials, textbooks, copies, a plan for the next quarter at least, lesson plans at least a week out, my room cleaned, set up, and generally "ready." I've already spent something like 6 days on campus for various trainings and meetings. I'm teaching 3 completely different courses, and one of those, I've been assured, should really count as two (they're both 11th grade, but one group of kids has had good instruction for the last two years, and the other, maybe not so much, plus there are a lot of English learners in the class).

I also have to purchase a bunch of stuff -- well, don't have to, but plan to. To make the room more homey, I'm going to get a couple comfy chairs and some plants and stuff. I also found out that I have a budget of $300, which sounds sweet until you realize that I have to provide pens, pencils, a classroom library, highlighters, overhead transparency paper, staples, tape, paper clips, and all the paper for all the copies I make (and I have to make at least 6,000 copies just for the 11th grade program in the first semester).

Other thoughts -- I find myself thinking that this might be a very different job from my last in more ways than I expected. I feel like I might be a whole lot more passionate about this, and throw myself into it more. Not that I wasn't a good, involved teacher at the last school, but I can already see myself becoming really attached. Which is both good and bad. Being really passionate about your job is wonderful and fulfilling, but at the same time, I can already see myself encroaching on my self-imposed limits, like not bringing work home every night and weekend. I used to get all my work done at school most of the time, then leave with a free brain. I don't know, que sera sera I guess.

Marginally funny moments from the last few days.

Tuesday a.m.
Nicely dressed lady: Is there a bathroom open around here?
Me: Yeah, the student bathroom right there, but it's really filthy.
NDL: Oh, well do you want to follow me to the staff bathroom?
Me: (A little abashed) Um. No, I used it anyway.
NDL: Oh, great! You're going to fit right in if you can face challenges like that!

Principal: Bob will be filling in for Ms. Lee until November, when he will take over for Ms. King, because it's required here that all female assistant principals are pregnant. Mr. Peterson is working on it.
(I KNOW he meant working on becoming pregnant, but it really sounded like working on knocking everybody else up.)


I'm wearing purple shoes with flowers on them at orientation, and the social studies teacher says "Nice shoes. [Long pause.] You know, I couldn't wear shoes like that. I'd get my ass kicked."

IB coordinator, grabbing keyboard and mouse off a table in a darkened room and pushing them into my arms; "Well, there's probably a checkout procedure for these . . ."

Again addressing the bathroom issues, Social Studies teacher says "Is there a men's bathroom open around here?"
IB coordinator: "I don't know. There's a women's . . ."
Male English teacher: "What the hell, I used the women's bathroom all last year because the men's was so far away." (Here he looks rather shamedly at me.)
Me: "Oh, I don't care, I've got no problem using a men's restroom."
IBC: "I've heard some women can do that."
Me: "No, I use the stall, but I did read a whole web site about how to pee standing up, and I tried it in the shower, but it wasn't really that successful . . . " (Here I notice all three men turned to look at me.) "Huh. Maybe I should just keep myself to myself for the first month or so."

Mr. Peterson: Okay, we're going to introduce ourselves, but to help me remember your names, I'd like you to think of an animal that starts with the same letter as your last name. Mr. Tafoya and I will model it. I'm Jim Peterson, so . . . Peterson, Penguin! Got it? Mr. Tafoya, go ahead.
Mr. Tafoya: I'm the Singing Sparrow.
Mr. Peterson: No, say your name first.
Mr. Tafoya: I'm Mr. Tafoya, the Singing Sparrow.
Mr. Peterson: No, your animal is supposed to start with the same letter as your last name.
Mr. Tafoya: What's that?
It may have even gone on longer than that. I swear I thought they were going to go into "who's on first."