Ms. R

Ms. R is turning into my favorite person at school.

She was a 1st year teacher last year, and I thought she did a really great job. She loved the little shits the most. She never gave up, always had a good attitude, and kept learning. She didn't spontaneously combust. Of course, she'll probably tell you that she was 2/3 an atomic bomb of a disaster, but I'm not validating that garbage.

This year, she is--as Sebastian might say-- one saucy mama.

Now that she is a well-seasoned veteran, she has come back with good advice and tons of attitude. She's this take-charge tornado who now KNOWS that teaching is sometimes a shit storm, and knows she can weather it. She just puts on a poncho (or, the most teachery dress you'll see on a 20-something year old) and bears it.

I don't normally write about teachers, but Ms. R kills me. As a mentor teacher, I should be the one stopping heart attacks. Here, it's the other way around. Every time I go into panic mode, she tells me about her great idea of wearing a fanny pack full of math manipulatives. Or tells a story about last year's "Mysterious Ball Puncher." (If your mind went to a dirty place... you were right). And she gives me realistic suggestions that calm me down.

She may feel like she's not my equal, but I wouldn't trade her for anything. Not even a new class list. And boy, could I use that.


P.s. By the way, Ms. R, if you're reading this.... you need to email me your blog address because I no longer have it.