Panic Attack

My principal is retiring.

FUCK!!!!

This is the equivalent of a company being sold.  New owners.

I really like my principal.  She rocks.  She made it worth it to work extra hard.  When I have a reasonable boss, I am sooo willing to do a lot to get the job done.

The problem with getting a new principal at my current school is that I just have no idea who it could be and I work at a very demanding school.  Even with a small class size, it takes total engagement every second of the day with total structure in order to have a calm and conductive learning environment.  It would be miserable to get a mean principal on top of what can be a stressful environment just on a normal day.

I got in touch with my principal from last year right away.  I really liked her, but I'm a bit unsure of how well she liked me.  It's something that I think I could overcome, because I think it was probably a matter of circumstance more than anything.  I was a middle of the year hire and the parents were already pretty disgruntled.  Things were a little hairy with a few of them at first, but by the end of the year things had really turned around so I'm hopeful that she would remember that over those starting out hiccups.

It would be great to go back to my last campus.  It had a good vibe and I liked the people.  The parents can be a little more involved, but on the other hand... the parents are more involved.  It's a double edged sword, I guess you can't have your cake and eat it, too.

Lots of staffing decisions in the coming months, so keep your fingers crossed for me.  I need it!!

Two words...

Edible underwear. 

Let's just say I'm glad they weren't mine. 

It's been a rough few weeks.  My fingers are crossed that things will begin to settle.  I've been down in the trenches for what seems like ages, but we're not even through January yet.

On the bright side, things are sorted out with my principal now and I'm caught up on lesson plans and grading.  When I spoke with her about the "panty situation," she simply smiled and said...

It's not the first time.  Not even the second...

Really?

Always seems to happen right around Valentine's day.

Parents of the world.... note that.

The Principal's Office

My permanent record is pretty much golden.  Not one trip to the principal's office.  Never.  Not ever.  Not even after I toilet papered the principal's house with my best friend and then ran over his water mainline when he blocked us in the driveway.  I probably would have been expelled, but I didn't get caught.  No one made a peep even after I wrote a personal narrative about my little adventure for Junior year English.  

I had another close call in first grade.  My mother loves to retell this story.  

Michelle came home from school and said she got her name on the board for helping Tony take his boots off.  So, I went up to that school and I asked the teacher what she had done that was just so terrible.  And the teacher said ever so sweetly, "But you see, Tony didn't WANT his boots off!"

My mom just cracks up at that part.  I'm not sure if it's because I was so unhelpfully helpful or because at the tender age of seven, I was already manhandling the would-be-men in my class.  Either way, I missed my ticket to the principal's office due to my teacher's good nature.  In the class of another, I might not have fared so well.

It's a good thing that those permanent record things, aren't that permanent or my adult self would be in a heap of trouble for marring that pristine document.  Today, I got called into the principal's office.  It wasn't pretty.  It certainly wasn't my first time since I started getting called into the principal's office, which was sometime back in 2009(-ish).  (Holla-attcha, Mrs. Trout, and, by the way, FUCK YOU!!!)  

On the bright side, my current principal is NOTHING like Mrs. Trout.  That is because my current principal is a good and decent and rational person with a good heart that cares about children AND her teachers AND staff.  She is the opposite of a two-faced cold-hearted amoral self-serving jackass with whom I am familiar.  My current principal is practically an angel by comparison.  

Angel or not,  new principal knows how to smack down.  She is succinct, to the point, and cuts to the chase.  She mixes in a little Encyclopedia Brown style questioning/concern.... How are you doing?  What's going on with you?  (You know, she's making sure that nobody in family has died and that I'm not recently diagnosed with something awful.  I can respect that... nice move.)  Then, boom, so I notice that you've come to school late the past two mornings. (I've gotten there at 7:18 and 7:19.  The bell rings at 7:20 and that's when we pick up the kids.  We are supposed to be at school by 7:10.)  You know, Michelle, it's very important that you are here on time.  

Blah, blah, blah... some other stuff.....  I won't bore you to death with it all.  Suffice to say, I better not show up late one more day and I better have the kids all set and ready to stick with our plans.  No more cleaning out desks during intervention time.  (I did have to tell her that we were cleaning out desks, because last semester one of the kids had a roach crawl out of their desk and I thought it was necessary to clean them all out, even if it took a little extra time.)  

The good news is that my principal was well within her bounds of reasonableness to talk with me about being late and even to check on whether I was going to be doing intervention.  I think it gave me a moment to let her know that I was recalibrating for the year at the start of the new semester and to hear what was important to her... i.e. timeliness in general and working in small groups for interventions.  This was a good thing for me to focus on for my future.  

As they say, every cloud has a silver lining.  If I have learned anything, that is the God's honest truth.  If you can't see the good out of the bad, then you aren't looking hard enough, and you aren't getting the message.  For all of the dislike that I have for Mrs. Trout (Fuck you, again, you fired up my engines all over again with your latest bullshit stunt - sorry - I have Tourrette's, when I think about that woman sometimes and I just start typing crazy shit) um, back to... for all of the dislike that I have for Mrs. Trout, I credit a lot of my current happiness to her.  

I learned a lot from her. I learned a lot about curriculum and rigor.  I learned about what a good teacher that I am and that I can be better and better all of the time.  I learned that I can learn so much from my peers and specialists. I learned that it is important to always to talk about your strengths and to not be defensive about your weaknesses.  I learned that when it comes to your boss just apologize, agree, change it, and move on.  I learned that there are some people that lie.  I learned that there are some people that cheat.  I learned that there are some people that manipulate and bully.  I learned that I am not one of those people.  Above all, I learned that if you do the right thing, good things will happen for you.  Always.  Every time.  Without fail.  I learned that integrity is the permanent record that only you can see and its the only one that matters.

Merry Effin' Christmas!

When I was a kid, my elementary school had a little "Elf Store" where the students could go and shop for gifts for their parents.  I remember that I bought my parents an enormous clay ash tray.  There's a pretty good chance that they still have it around just for when "smoking" guests come to the house.  It was a thoughtful gesture to say the least.

I have a Rudolph plaque on my living room wall that my entire 4th grade class signed the year that I moved over the holidays.  My tree has a play dough ornament lovingly sculpted and gingerly painted by yours truly with my name puffily written on the back every year from 1983 to 1988.  

I love them.  I used to take them for granted, but now, I know.  Unless, you go to a private Christian school, Christmas is a thing of the past or whatever you make of it at home.  It's practically a dirty word at school.  My poor principal.  She is a good woman.  You can just tell.  She wants to do a good job.  The pressure is on her, just like it is everyone else. 

It's funny what issues bring to light that your boss is in the same boat as everyone else: "the don't let me lose my job over something stupid boat."  Our principal is FREAKED OUT over Christmas.  We can't say, "Merry Christmas" unless a kid or parent says it first.  No Santa, no Rudolph, no Christmas trees, and no red and green anything together.  

Also, no candy, and especially no candy canes.  So, lots of no, no, no, no, no!  I'm wondering what horror story she heard that made her paranoid enough to ban Santa.  I think it's sad that we can't dive into the holiday spirit the way of yesteryear.  I don't need to go out and baptize the kids, but it would be cool to read "The Night Before Christmas" or "The Grinch."  

I know that she is just looking out for all of us.  I know that there probably is some parent lurking around our campus just dying to pounce on some poor unsuspecting teacher.  It makes me breathe a sigh of relief that I held back the other day when counseling a student that I really wanted to witness to. And I'm not an evangelical. 

I believe in God and Jesus and the resurrection, but I don't really get all in your business about it.  I mean, I barely get myself to church a few times a year, so I'm not one to talk.  But on occasion, I do feel compelled to tell a kid that God loves them and will always be there for them.   I've managed to say this metaphorically and never directly thus far.

This year I am particularly glad that I've never crossed that fine line between "positive emotional influence" and "spiritual/religious guidance."  It's just too scary when you have a little baby who is counting on you to take care of her to risk it.  But it feels like a betrayal of my beliefs somehow and I kind of hate myself for that.  How do I love the separation of church and state and despise it all at once?  

Maybe three or four seasons ago, my sister and I went and did some gift shopping at the mall together just a week or two before Christmas.  We had the most difficult time finding a place to park, when finally we spotted a car backing out right in front of us.  We put our blinker on "left."  The car backed out towards us and another car zipped into our spot.  We looked at each other... a mixture of shock, horror, and distain on our faces.  We were caught in a mix of traffic standstill and watched as some class A asshole took our spot and began to walk inside the mall.

My sister reached over me and honked the horn.  She rolled down the window and climbed halfway out stretching over my body with her arm extended and her middle finger shooting straight up in the air, the rest perfectly coiled at attention. 

"Merry Fuckin' Christmas!!!" 

The parking offender barely turned his head sideways, but I think he did flinch.  

"Yeah!" I said.  "Merry Fuckin' Christmas!!!"

Just then, my sis pointed to a spot that was open.  A car had just backed out and we had just a split second to pull in before some sucker who was patiently waiting with his blinker on... I looked at my sister.  She looked at me.  

We parked and giggled the whole way into the mall hoping that nobody keyed our car.  I don't think we got the bird, but I didn't look back.  I suppose I shouldn't look back now, either.  Christmas just ain't what it used to be...