I'm a pretty selfish person, and I say that with no amount of pride. In some ways, I feel stunted in the fact that - when it's all said and done- I'm thinking about whether things worked out the way I wanted them to or not. I'm selfish about a lot of things : my food (quit eating off of my plate & begging me for more! Quit taking the biggest, best piece of pizza/cobbler/chicken/etc ! Quit asking for a taste of whatever it is I'm eating!), my sleep (Quit getting me off schedule just because you want/don't want to do something) my music (I love that song and I don't care if I have the CD - I want to listen to it now). I swear, in my own head sometimes, I sound just like Veruca Salt from "Charlie & the Chocolate Factory".
I don't mean to be selfish. And though it doesn't sound like it, in regards to other people, I am very generous. At least I like to think I am. I try to remain considerate of others' needs, wants, abilities, personalities. I cry (literally) for the homeless, be they people or animals (one of the reasons why I cannot watch "Animal Cops" shows ; they just tear me up). I love my students and coworkers, family & friends, and most people in general. I want to help others, in any way I can. It makes me feel good to make others feel good. Which is why I recently decided to allow a practicum student into my classroom in upcoming weeks. I mentioned the fact that I am a selfish person because, truthfully, I don't want anyone disrupting my routine. It's not like I expect her to come in my room, sit in the back and start shooting spitballs or something. I know she's there to learn. Why, just a mere 8 -10 years ago- that was me. And I appreciated the fact that teachers would change their daily schedules & lesson plans to allow me access to their room where I would try to "teach" a lesson. But, I just don't want someone - ANYONE- in my room with my kids when I'm teaching. I'm thinking "Leave us alone, please!" But that's wrong. My room should be open to all. By the way, Jim Rex (State Superintendent of Ed) will be visiting our school this month - WOW! And even though it would be neat to have that kind of a big-wig in my room, at the same time I'm thinking, "Quit coming in to see everything I'm doing - we all know you're going to forget me as soon as you close the door".
It's ridiculous, I know. I know. I mean, I don't want to paint the picture that I'm an anti-social psychotic teaching nut. I really don't mind if anyone is observing or visiting in my room. I would just rather they didn't. I don't even like sharing my class with the other teachers. That's crazy!! I should welcome it! But deep down - waaaaaaayyyyy down- I don't. Maybe I'm slightly OCD, and it rocks my world to have to change things up so often. I am , afterall, a creature of habit. I love & thrive in routine. And to break this nasty habit of same-old/same-old, I am opting to have a practicum student in my room. She's going to observe a few lessons, and she has to teach 2 science lessons (luckily, that's Sandy's room). But I need this. It's time I gave back to all of those who opened their doors for some stupid doe-eyed Lander practicum student who didn't know what in the hell she was doing. You know what will happen? The day she comes to observe will be the day I get observed by the principal (who knows- maybe the State SuperI, too!)
So, I end this post with a pledge: I shall do my best to let go of the thought that my classroom is only MY classroom, and open it to those who want only to learn, to be taught, or to point out all of the things I did wrong.
(Let's be honest- what are teacher/admin observations for?)
Showing posts with label observations. Show all posts
Showing posts with label observations. Show all posts
Monday, October 13, 2008
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Today's Rail
Second post, but not same as the first. The first was "Hello- not sure I belong here." This one is "I've got to say this to someone or something, whether someone reads this or not."
Please let it be known that I love my husband. I adore him, and would do anything in this world for him. I trust him implicitly, I believe in him, and enjoy making a life with him. But today, he sucks. He's sucked for a while. When we're around others, he's so sweet & funny. But if it's just he & I, the jaws all of a sudden wire shut, and all I get are mono syllabic answers to things like, "How was your day?", "Your shoulder feeling better?" "Would you rather have chicken or pork for dinner tonight?". Ok, the last one would get a longer response, but still as bland as the others. And that's not the only thing. He doesn't ask how my day was. He leaves the dishes in the sink as if they are waiting for only me to do them, he points out all the weird little things I do that I know are weird & follows it up with a sweeping statement like "I was just making an observation." Well, thanks. I almost flew under the radar just then but luckily, you kept that from happening.
Mostly though, I think the shittiest thing of all - at least I think it is- is that I get the feeling, impression, vibe (whatever you wanna call it) that the problem here is me. Like today, I came home from work to him cooking dinner, and obviously frustrated about something. I later found out he had screwed up the sauce to the meat and had to redo it, thus expanding dinner time by 20 minutes or so. So, I enter the apt & smell everything cooking, drop my load of crap on the floor, and say "Hey, honey!"
"hey"
"How are ya?"
"fine"
"Smells good!"
"thanks"
"You allright?"
"yep"
"Need help with anything?" "nope"
I know you're pissed just reading this, right? Ok - whatever. I continue about my "decompression" time by immediately dislodging my shoes, changing clothes, and petting the dogs, who by this time are throwing thier world famous "We're Orphan Dogs" eyes at anyone in a 3 mile radius. Blang! Thud! stir, stir, scrape. Slam! I continue ignoring, and decide that Facebooking in the next room would be a nicer, quieter escape. Not 3 minutes in and -- "dinner's ready". So, up I go & fix my plate & start to eat. In silence. Why? Because he's in a bad mood and - as I carefully think ahead of previous scenarios of this kind- what would the outcome be if I tried to start conversation? Similar to the aforementioned one that makes me want to shove lit cigarettes in my eyes. So, I eat my broccoli in quiet, & watch what I can of "King of Queens" or whatever was on .
"you're dying to ask me something, aren't you?"
"No, not really. I could tell you were not in the best mood ever & just decided that you probably wouldn't want to talk. And to be honest, I was sort of waiting to see if you would ask me how my day was sometimes. "
" i do ask you how your day was . sometimes. "
" I know. "
"i mean, you gotta know i'm not gonna talk much when i just got out of bed."
" I know."
And the silence continued until the newsstory about a local car dealer who (ironically) died in a car accident came up, then he asked if I had heard of it. I nicely volunteered to make his lunch for work tonight, and did the dishes because that's the rule (whoever cooks, the other does the dishes - not a bad rule, per se). And there was quite a stack of them. So while I'm slinging butter knives and spatulas and sauce pans around, I'm stewing the whole time. Why should I HAVE to know that ? Why is it always me that has to adjust to him? If I make an "observation" about him, then I'm being a bitch or he'll say "thanks for telling me" in a snotty, condescending way. I HAVE to understand that he deals with his anger or frustration by yelling & slamming stuff and that's how it is. But if I do the exact same thing, suddenly I'm acting ridiculous over something simple.
He complains that I never tell him how I really feel, but to be honest, I don't want to. I mean, it's just an invitation to a never ending argument between 2 defensive people who have issues left over from their respective upbringings.
OOoh! And I just thought of this. I am, apparently, not to be trusted on my own with the following items or I'll damage them forever beyond repair (not his EXACT words, mind you): the large kitchen knife on the glass cutting board ( I'll dull it by my constant hacking on the glass), the gear shift pedal in his truck (I'll wear it out because I was taught to push it in when I brake), the Teflon pans (I'll scratch them up by stirring or cooking with metal utensils). I'm sure I'll think of others as soon as I post this, but these will suffice. I mean, WTF?? I managed to live on my own for 26 years - quite successfully, I might add- doing all of these things, and never once did something completely crap out on me because of it.
Well, I needed to say that. I still do, actually. So,I think I need to make a date with my husband to "talk". And I need to be honest and forthright. I've been told I have good customer service- perhaps that will work in my favor here? I shouldn't be anxious or worried - he's my husband, my partner, my equal. He wants to know how I feel, and I said I would work on it & try to do better. So here I go. And I should make a list of the 3 most important things that are weighing on me right now. I suppose my rant about the knife & gear shift can wait for another time.
Please let it be known that I love my husband. I adore him, and would do anything in this world for him. I trust him implicitly, I believe in him, and enjoy making a life with him. But today, he sucks. He's sucked for a while. When we're around others, he's so sweet & funny. But if it's just he & I, the jaws all of a sudden wire shut, and all I get are mono syllabic answers to things like, "How was your day?", "Your shoulder feeling better?" "Would you rather have chicken or pork for dinner tonight?". Ok, the last one would get a longer response, but still as bland as the others. And that's not the only thing. He doesn't ask how my day was. He leaves the dishes in the sink as if they are waiting for only me to do them, he points out all the weird little things I do that I know are weird & follows it up with a sweeping statement like "I was just making an observation." Well, thanks. I almost flew under the radar just then but luckily, you kept that from happening.
Mostly though, I think the shittiest thing of all - at least I think it is- is that I get the feeling, impression, vibe (whatever you wanna call it) that the problem here is me. Like today, I came home from work to him cooking dinner, and obviously frustrated about something. I later found out he had screwed up the sauce to the meat and had to redo it, thus expanding dinner time by 20 minutes or so. So, I enter the apt & smell everything cooking, drop my load of crap on the floor, and say "Hey, honey!"
"hey"
"How are ya?"
"fine"
"Smells good!"
"thanks"
"You allright?"
"yep"
"Need help with anything?" "nope"
I know you're pissed just reading this, right? Ok - whatever. I continue about my "decompression" time by immediately dislodging my shoes, changing clothes, and petting the dogs, who by this time are throwing thier world famous "We're Orphan Dogs" eyes at anyone in a 3 mile radius. Blang! Thud! stir, stir, scrape. Slam! I continue ignoring, and decide that Facebooking in the next room would be a nicer, quieter escape. Not 3 minutes in and -- "dinner's ready". So, up I go & fix my plate & start to eat. In silence. Why? Because he's in a bad mood and - as I carefully think ahead of previous scenarios of this kind- what would the outcome be if I tried to start conversation? Similar to the aforementioned one that makes me want to shove lit cigarettes in my eyes. So, I eat my broccoli in quiet, & watch what I can of "King of Queens" or whatever was on .
"you're dying to ask me something, aren't you?"
"No, not really. I could tell you were not in the best mood ever & just decided that you probably wouldn't want to talk. And to be honest, I was sort of waiting to see if you would ask me how my day was sometimes. "
" i do ask you how your day was . sometimes. "
" I know. "
"i mean, you gotta know i'm not gonna talk much when i just got out of bed."
" I know."
And the silence continued until the newsstory about a local car dealer who (ironically) died in a car accident came up, then he asked if I had heard of it. I nicely volunteered to make his lunch for work tonight, and did the dishes because that's the rule (whoever cooks, the other does the dishes - not a bad rule, per se). And there was quite a stack of them. So while I'm slinging butter knives and spatulas and sauce pans around, I'm stewing the whole time. Why should I HAVE to know that ? Why is it always me that has to adjust to him? If I make an "observation" about him, then I'm being a bitch or he'll say "thanks for telling me" in a snotty, condescending way. I HAVE to understand that he deals with his anger or frustration by yelling & slamming stuff and that's how it is. But if I do the exact same thing, suddenly I'm acting ridiculous over something simple.
He complains that I never tell him how I really feel, but to be honest, I don't want to. I mean, it's just an invitation to a never ending argument between 2 defensive people who have issues left over from their respective upbringings.
OOoh! And I just thought of this. I am, apparently, not to be trusted on my own with the following items or I'll damage them forever beyond repair (not his EXACT words, mind you): the large kitchen knife on the glass cutting board ( I'll dull it by my constant hacking on the glass), the gear shift pedal in his truck (I'll wear it out because I was taught to push it in when I brake), the Teflon pans (I'll scratch them up by stirring or cooking with metal utensils). I'm sure I'll think of others as soon as I post this, but these will suffice. I mean, WTF?? I managed to live on my own for 26 years - quite successfully, I might add- doing all of these things, and never once did something completely crap out on me because of it.
Well, I needed to say that. I still do, actually. So,I think I need to make a date with my husband to "talk". And I need to be honest and forthright. I've been told I have good customer service- perhaps that will work in my favor here? I shouldn't be anxious or worried - he's my husband, my partner, my equal. He wants to know how I feel, and I said I would work on it & try to do better. So here I go. And I should make a list of the 3 most important things that are weighing on me right now. I suppose my rant about the knife & gear shift can wait for another time.
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