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The Waking
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
I feel my fate in what I cannot fear.
I learn by going where I cannot go.
We think by feeling. What is there to know?
I hear my being dance from ear to ear.
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
Of those so close beside me, which are you?
God bless the Ground! I shall walk softly there,
And learn by going where I have to go.
Light takes the Tree, but who can tell us how?
The lowly worm climbs up a winding stair;
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
Great Nature has another thing to do
To you and me; so take the lively air,
And, lovely, learn by going where to go.
This shaking keeps me steady. I should know.
What falls away is always. And is near.
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
I learn by going where I have to go.
--Theodore Roethke
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Joy's Updates - Straight from the Horse's Mouth.
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Wednesday, April 16, 2003
First Year, The Sequel
During that first year of teaching, I asked the principal if I could have a key to the gate one Saturday so my husband, a couple of friends, and I could clean my room. I told him I'd asked any kids who wanted to help out to meet us there. He said I could get in but he doubted any students would come help. We arrived early in the morning with cleaning supplies, door mats (remember, it was a portable), and other things to make the room look better. So we got there and so did about ten students. We cleaned desks, swept floors, washed walls and windows, and got rid of all that grit and grime and dust. It looked really good and we were so proud. The kids worked really hard and we had a lot of fun. We treated them to lunch and finished in the afternoon.
Monday when the classes came into the room, they all looked around and could tell a difference. They seemed to sit straighter in their desks and proud of the way it looked. What was really funny and sweet was how protective they were of the room after that. Those students who cleaned told the others to wipe their feet before coming in the room and to take care of things. They told the others they didn't know how hard they worked and didn't want anyone messing it up. The principal was surprised when I told him how many students came out of the one class I told about it. I guess we know which one.
At the end of that year, I asked the principal if I could have a room in the building and teach English. It happened. I got a room on the second floor and had all 10th grade English classes and one study hall with students who were destined for a life of crime. We had to keep study hall in our classrooms one period a day. This one had absolutely no students in it who ever intended to study. My next and last year there I had a study hall with actual students in it - ones who cared about grades, wanted to use their time wisely, and have less homework to do after school. Not this group though. They made my sweathog class look like amateurs. Somehow they'd made it to the 10th grade with only one that I knew of with a probation officer. These were people I'd tried to avoid all my life. With my limited disciplinary skills at that time, they usually got too loud (so did I). The teacher across the hall, who taught typing and sponsored the yearbook, seemed about 80 years old to me at the time but probably wasn't much older than I am now. She stormed over to my class several times and fussed at me out in the hall for not keeping them quiet enough. She was a frightening woman. One day after school I asked her for advice on how to handle that study hall and mentioned that it would be more helpful than fussing at me. I knew there was a problem and wanted them to behave and didn't need her to point it out.
Things did get better with them but not as much as I'd hoped. My English classes were wonderful, and I really enjoyed teaching them. We had interesting discussions and the students were great.
During most of the first year I wanted to quit and kept thinking about other jobs that seemed better. (almost any) Some of the older teachers told me not to quit after the first year and suggested I give it another year and then if I wanted to quit, I could. I grudgingly took their advice but didn't think I'd make it. I cried many afternoons when I got home and knew I wasn't going to last long. Here I am 34 years later, ready to retire.
8:23:00 PM
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