Wednesday, August 8, 2012

sophomore year

The four-year model is strongly ingrained into me.  I've taken to thinking of first-year teachers as freshmen.  I'm a typical sophomore.  I know how everything works, I have a good idea of my role at the school, I am comfortable picking on other teachers of my year or below, and I still feel entirely unqualified to address any school-related questions from more experienced incoming teachers.

     Freshman year: Leading up to my first day I spent several hours putting together exactly what I was going to say during my classes.  
     Sophomore year: I made a few notes last night, and didn't really stick to them in class.

    Freshman: I was more nervous than I can ever remember being in my life.  My entire demeanor is centered on being stress-free, but I had never been in front of a classroom (I didn't even do a demo in the interview process, remember?), and I could barely handle it.  At the lunch break, I had to go to my car and drive around aimlessly for 20 minutes, blaring music in an attempt to do something mindless and familiar to clear my head.
    Sophomore: I was excited more than anything else.  Excited to teach economics, excited to have 10th-graders, excited to have so many returning students in 8th grade.  There may have been some nervousness, but also an underlying reassuring confidence.

    Fresh: Each class was 60 minutes, and each felt never-ending.  I ran out of things to say in my Medieval History class (unbelievably awful improv ability), and let them go two minutes early.  That was the halfway point in the day, and I felt sick.  I didn't think I could finish the day, much less the year.
    Soph: We had a half-day, and I had to cut short a few planned activities.  I managed my time well enough that we just spent a little less time on each goal, rather than having to readjust my whole game plan.

1st: I was so overwhelmed the whole semester that I hardly ever actively checked the dress code.
2nd: I called out one of my returning students in class for a rather obscure violation.

Even the entryway is markedly improved from last year!
    Most unanticipated moment from freshman year: one of my 8th-grade girls dropped her planner into the center of the square of tables during discussion.  There was no way for her to reach it, and a few seconds of silence while everyone stared at her.  I had no idea what normally happens in this situation — I'd never been in a classroom with a closed square of tables before!  I froze just like the students.  The girl turned bright red and crawled under the table to retrieve it.  Now, I'd say or do something appropriately disarming and we'd move on.  *[DAY TWO YEAR TWO UPDATE: This happened again today! A girl dropped her syllabus and it floated into the center of the room.  I got up and jumped over the table to get it, then used the opportunity to make a joke about my position at school as "Athletic Facility Manager"..(pointing out that "athletic" could be modifying either noun, see?).  Boom. Same experience.  Opposite outcome.]*
     Most unanticipated moment from today?.. Probably when my assistant headmaster walked in to observe my classroom during economics in the second period.  I had no idea that was something that would happen on day one.  The class and I were confused, but I didn't get rattled.  Once I realized he was just there to watch, I moved right along.  I even mentally rearranged my next few activities for his benefit, something I noticed veteran teachers consistently doing last year.

     The worst part of year one was getting through the day and realizing I had to do it again tomorrow, the next day, and the rest of the school year.  I'd build up that first day so much that I never really considered the full scope of the commitment.
    The worst part about today was probably dealing with major printing issues.  Our copier broke and wasn't going to get fixed any time soon.  This was a worse breakdown than at any point in the first year.  Rather than spend my entire free period printing off shoddy unstapled versions of my syllabi at the out-matched back-up printer, I improvised and didn't hand out any syllabi today.  I went to Kinko's after school and printed them for tomorrow.  

     It says something on its own that I'm attempting to crank out a blog on the night before my first full day.  Here are a few feel-good anecdotes to close out:

     I asked for the same morning duty as last year and got it — overseeing the fifth graders before school.  About 70% of our incoming students come from Archway Scottsdale, and therefore know each other.  I noticed one girl who was clearly overwhelmed and didn't know anyone else in the mass of giddy up-and-comers.  I asked her her name and was instantly confused because it sounded like she'd said my name in response (I hadn't introduced myself yet).  Turns out, her last name is essentially the same as McClallen.  That has never in my life happened before, and it was especially great because I suspect it was somewhat comfortingly familiar for her.

     Also, a few days ago I had a former student (who chose to attend a different high school) stop by and drop off a gift for me.  It was a neon-pink skinny tie, and I liked it so much that I decided to wear it on the first day.  It just so happens that student has a sibling who is entering fifth grade at Scottsdale, and I ran into her dad as he dropped her off.  I'd never really talked to him before, but he recognized me (and the tie), and we had a quality conversation.  

     In short, before the first bell rang today I'd already had more positive experiences than I had my entire first week of freshman year.  The day was by no means perfect, though.  That's what junior year is for, right?