Tonight's Poet Corner: Introspection
Let's face it - one of the hardest things for me to deal with, being in Novato and working in San Rafael, is the obviously low number of friends who I have close to me. Most of my really good buddies were people I met in college, and they're all nestled in Southern California, dealing with their own jobs and their own relationships and their own lives. My girlfriend happens to finishing up school about an eight hours' drive away from me, so that's a double whammy. As for my handful of friends up north, many times they're too busy to steal away from their homes to have a drink or conversation.
I'm not trying to be bitter or angry at them. Absolutely not. Priorities are priorities, and everyone has his or her own life to tend to. I guess it's tough when I end up meeting and loving all of these amazing people, and they happen to live far away enough to make a huge difference in the whole hang-out situation. For example, many of my awesome co-workers live in San Francisco or the East Bay, while my suburb is a good chunk of time away from the urban areas. I can't exactly tell someone, "Hey, swing by my place!" because it's not that simple. Distance, transportation, and money are only a few of the reasons why.
I had a really rough time at work today, mostly because my students, out of the blue, decided to be really nasty to me. I was told by seven-year-old girls, in one hour, that I yelled at one student all the time, that I was a liar, and that I didn't do anything besides pull a couple of students out for tutoring. Seriously - one of my second grade girls had the imaginary cajones to size me up and say that she did more work than I did. Not to undermine the workload of an elementary school student, but clearly she has not seen the massive binder of lesson templates I have to write from scratch, the stack of Reader's Theater scripts that I've created on my own, and the seven-pound case of tutoring material that I keep with me.
The truth is, though, the attitude of my students scares me because it reflects my work and how I'm doing. I got a lot, and I mean, a lot of notes about my teaching. Essentially, I'm too loud, too impatient, too temperamental, and too verbose with my kids. Those are big things to work on. Obviously, I won't instantly change overnight, but I feel like after so many months of trying to improve, I'm slipping back into snap mode. Not to merit any vicious words from my kids, but if I'm not giving them a comfortable, safe, and exciting learning environment, I'm not doing my job right and I'm not being a good teacher. That, combined with the fact that holy Hell, every floater in my eye has decided to stand out in my vision all the freaking time, warranting an optometry appointment because I'm paranoid - that just added the shitty icing to the inedible cake today.
It's during days like these that I wish for the haven I had when I was in college. Senior year was when I had anxiety attacks regularly. I was just beginning to suffer from year-round sinus pressure and ear congestion, I was one semester away from graduating and going off into the real world, and I had finally gotten the guts to come out to everyone (in a conservative town, no less, save for the college campus). It meant something for me to be able to return to my apartment and see my roommates, who were really close with me, and sob to them about my troubles. They provided a safety net for me and comforted me and made sure I was okay, like friends do. We played music together, we wrote together, we battled it out in video games together, we did crazy antics together at Norm's. We laughed, we joked, we shared, we performed. It was amazing. And it really made Orange, and that apartment so lovingly named Valhalla, a second home for me.
Tonight, I was fortunate enough to see a very good friend, who kindly footed the bill at a brewery that she, my sister, and I went to for cider, soup, and conversation. I'm very grateful for her presence in my life, and I really enjoy having her around. I just wish that I was able to have that luxury of friendship every day and every night. I know that when my girlfriend graduates from college, the possibility of going home to someone who can hold me and kiss me and let me know that I'm going to be just fine is much higher. But for now, I have several months to stress out about some vitreous humor debris, the evergrowing wonder that I just might be a lousy teacher because of the way my students are reacting to me, and of course the struggle for financial stability, a second chance at higher education, and a sense of independence.
To all of my college friends reading this: I miss you so much. You created an amazing network for me when I was in school, and even when I'm not talking to you, I think about you a lot. I love you all, and I especially love you, Arden, mo chuisle, for keeping me strong. To all of my Northern Californian friends reading this: No matter how busy you are, I love you and I appreciate it every time you decide to see me even when your lives are so busy and so hectic. I couldn't be more thankful for that.
Now, I just want to be able to relax, knowing that I have someone(s) to fall back on especially when I feel like I'm just not doing my job right.
God, I hope that happens sooner rather than later.
Writer's Quotation of the Night:
I have never started a poem yet whose end I knew. Writing a poem is discovering.
- Robert Frost
Have a great night and a great weekend, everyone.
I'm not trying to be bitter or angry at them. Absolutely not. Priorities are priorities, and everyone has his or her own life to tend to. I guess it's tough when I end up meeting and loving all of these amazing people, and they happen to live far away enough to make a huge difference in the whole hang-out situation. For example, many of my awesome co-workers live in San Francisco or the East Bay, while my suburb is a good chunk of time away from the urban areas. I can't exactly tell someone, "Hey, swing by my place!" because it's not that simple. Distance, transportation, and money are only a few of the reasons why.
I had a really rough time at work today, mostly because my students, out of the blue, decided to be really nasty to me. I was told by seven-year-old girls, in one hour, that I yelled at one student all the time, that I was a liar, and that I didn't do anything besides pull a couple of students out for tutoring. Seriously - one of my second grade girls had the imaginary cajones to size me up and say that she did more work than I did. Not to undermine the workload of an elementary school student, but clearly she has not seen the massive binder of lesson templates I have to write from scratch, the stack of Reader's Theater scripts that I've created on my own, and the seven-pound case of tutoring material that I keep with me.
The truth is, though, the attitude of my students scares me because it reflects my work and how I'm doing. I got a lot, and I mean, a lot of notes about my teaching. Essentially, I'm too loud, too impatient, too temperamental, and too verbose with my kids. Those are big things to work on. Obviously, I won't instantly change overnight, but I feel like after so many months of trying to improve, I'm slipping back into snap mode. Not to merit any vicious words from my kids, but if I'm not giving them a comfortable, safe, and exciting learning environment, I'm not doing my job right and I'm not being a good teacher. That, combined with the fact that holy Hell, every floater in my eye has decided to stand out in my vision all the freaking time, warranting an optometry appointment because I'm paranoid - that just added the shitty icing to the inedible cake today.
It's during days like these that I wish for the haven I had when I was in college. Senior year was when I had anxiety attacks regularly. I was just beginning to suffer from year-round sinus pressure and ear congestion, I was one semester away from graduating and going off into the real world, and I had finally gotten the guts to come out to everyone (in a conservative town, no less, save for the college campus). It meant something for me to be able to return to my apartment and see my roommates, who were really close with me, and sob to them about my troubles. They provided a safety net for me and comforted me and made sure I was okay, like friends do. We played music together, we wrote together, we battled it out in video games together, we did crazy antics together at Norm's. We laughed, we joked, we shared, we performed. It was amazing. And it really made Orange, and that apartment so lovingly named Valhalla, a second home for me.
Tonight, I was fortunate enough to see a very good friend, who kindly footed the bill at a brewery that she, my sister, and I went to for cider, soup, and conversation. I'm very grateful for her presence in my life, and I really enjoy having her around. I just wish that I was able to have that luxury of friendship every day and every night. I know that when my girlfriend graduates from college, the possibility of going home to someone who can hold me and kiss me and let me know that I'm going to be just fine is much higher. But for now, I have several months to stress out about some vitreous humor debris, the evergrowing wonder that I just might be a lousy teacher because of the way my students are reacting to me, and of course the struggle for financial stability, a second chance at higher education, and a sense of independence.
To all of my college friends reading this: I miss you so much. You created an amazing network for me when I was in school, and even when I'm not talking to you, I think about you a lot. I love you all, and I especially love you, Arden, mo chuisle, for keeping me strong. To all of my Northern Californian friends reading this: No matter how busy you are, I love you and I appreciate it every time you decide to see me even when your lives are so busy and so hectic. I couldn't be more thankful for that.
Now, I just want to be able to relax, knowing that I have someone(s) to fall back on especially when I feel like I'm just not doing my job right.
God, I hope that happens sooner rather than later.
Writer's Quotation of the Night:
I have never started a poem yet whose end I knew. Writing a poem is discovering.
- Robert Frost
Have a great night and a great weekend, everyone.
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