Mario: Miss J, can we call you Snooki? (Snooky? Snookie??)
Me: Do I have a fake tan?
Mario: No.
Me: Do I have huge hair?
Mario:No....
Me: Do I have the IQ of a hamster?
Mario: No....
Me: Then why in God's name would you think it was okay to nickname me THAT?
Mario: Well....
Boy #2: She looks more like J-wow.
Boy #3: No she doesn't!
Me: How about calling me Miss J. I'm cool with that name.
Gym teacher: Snooky has the IQ of a school bus.
Friday, January 28, 2011
It Continues
One of my girls dropped out of our school to join another one. A smart girl, one I really liked. She'd gotten out of school suspension (OSS) for 9 days because she was caught drinking vodka out of a water bottle at school. She told on another girl, and then was too afraid to come back-- because the rest of the girls were going to beat her up for being a snitch.
Two of my boys made a bet to see who could "f*** the new slut first." A girl who's new, and pretty, and wears slightly tight clothing and lots of blush but is a good kid. She found out, and humiliated, was sobbing in my class. One of these boys was also caught SMOKING POT AT SCHOOL earlier this week.
Another student got up in my face, like UP IN MY FACE, like an angry dog ready to pounce, yelled at me and wouldn't back down, as I calmly told her she couldn't get under my skin, but that this wasn't the best choice ever. She kept going, challenging me, telling me I should go back to class. GO BACK TO CLASS! GO BACK THERE AND GO TEACH! YOU HAVE A JOB TO DO. Pointing and shouting at me. I won't go to the office, I won't do anything you say. GO DO YOUR JOB! Staring me down, ready to pounce.
Another student said the detention he received for skipping a lesser sentence TWICE was bullshit, and my fault-- even after I wrote him sticky note reminders both times.
I don't yell.
I don't scream.
I try really, really hard to make each new day a fresh start-- to not hold grudges.
I don't let them see when they ruffle my feathers.
I try to give them choices.
But they make me feel like shit.
I am so disappointed in them as human beings.
Two of my boys made a bet to see who could "f*** the new slut first." A girl who's new, and pretty, and wears slightly tight clothing and lots of blush but is a good kid. She found out, and humiliated, was sobbing in my class. One of these boys was also caught SMOKING POT AT SCHOOL earlier this week.
Another student got up in my face, like UP IN MY FACE, like an angry dog ready to pounce, yelled at me and wouldn't back down, as I calmly told her she couldn't get under my skin, but that this wasn't the best choice ever. She kept going, challenging me, telling me I should go back to class. GO BACK TO CLASS! GO BACK THERE AND GO TEACH! YOU HAVE A JOB TO DO. Pointing and shouting at me. I won't go to the office, I won't do anything you say. GO DO YOUR JOB! Staring me down, ready to pounce.
Another student said the detention he received for skipping a lesser sentence TWICE was bullshit, and my fault-- even after I wrote him sticky note reminders both times.
I don't yell.
I don't scream.
I try really, really hard to make each new day a fresh start-- to not hold grudges.
I don't let them see when they ruffle my feathers.
I try to give them choices.
But they make me feel like shit.
I am so disappointed in them as human beings.
Thursday, January 27, 2011
:(
I never crab about administration, other teachers, advisers and so on-- I think it's cowardly and lacks class. Fixating on the negative usually only makes you more negative, and I don't want to be That Guy--especially when there are people (like the reading AA, for example) who give us lots of awesome, quick strategies to use in the class. Or the technology teacher who is always trying to integrate our content into hers.
But I will say this-- I am not happy.
This job is exhausting. We're all exhausted. Every single one of us, from district level down, mostly likely has so much work to do that, well.... we can't do ANYTHING well. And now with talk of more budget cutbacks, the problem worsens. As one teacher said to me-- the district cuts back, but we never can. We get the opposite-- as they cut back, we get more work to do, not less. And not exactly for fair compensation either. So then you end up with a huge group of people who are overworked and underpaid, all with impossibly high expectations on their heads, surrounded by a whirlwind of negative, catty people.
Someone asked me the other day how I've managed to make it here for five whole years already... These days, I'm not sure.
Grad school plays a role in how burnt out I'm feeling, as does the time of year (I always want to quit around the beginning of February....) but never before have I felt so under appreciated and downright depressed.
But I will say this-- I am not happy.
This job is exhausting. We're all exhausted. Every single one of us, from district level down, mostly likely has so much work to do that, well.... we can't do ANYTHING well. And now with talk of more budget cutbacks, the problem worsens. As one teacher said to me-- the district cuts back, but we never can. We get the opposite-- as they cut back, we get more work to do, not less. And not exactly for fair compensation either. So then you end up with a huge group of people who are overworked and underpaid, all with impossibly high expectations on their heads, surrounded by a whirlwind of negative, catty people.
Someone asked me the other day how I've managed to make it here for five whole years already... These days, I'm not sure.
Grad school plays a role in how burnt out I'm feeling, as does the time of year (I always want to quit around the beginning of February....) but never before have I felt so under appreciated and downright depressed.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
No, they will not chop your balls off.
Yay for teaching science.
Two years ago, I had a few girls that would tell me about their (or "their friend's") STD issues. It is a strange compliment-- knowing they are comfortable enough to talk to you, while assuming you're smart enough to know something about it. But still disturbing. This time, it wasn't a girl.
Student A pulled me out into the hallway to tell me, in a bashful and embarrassed voice, that he has a lump on his "well, I guess you could say, my testicle" and that he was afraid he has cancer and is going to die.
And then started describing it in detail, stuttering "I mean, not to gross you out.... I'm just..."
"A. You are probably fine. It's good that you know your body that well. Since you've got all those hormones in your system, there's a good chance, your body is just doing something funky, but anything out of the normal should be checked. Do you have a guy that can bring you to the doctor just in case?"
"...So I'm not going to die?!?!"
"The chances of you having a tumorous cancer at your age are pretty slim. I'm saying its probably nothing. BUT, if it is something, you probably caught it in time.... and if that is true, then the doctors can take care of it before it becomes a serious problem."
"So, if I go to the doctor, I'll probably be fine?"
"Yes. Most likely. Million to one."
"They won't.......chop my balls off?"
(How I did not burst into laughter is a miracle)
"I think you are probably safe."
"But, I had a family member who had cancer, and sometimes they have to cut into you to see if you have it..."
"That's a biopsy. And they just need a tiny, tiny piece of tissue. A few cells. You don't even have to be put to sleep when they take it."
"So, if I go to the doctor they're going to put a NEEDLE in my...."
......This conversation lasted far too long.
Two years ago, I had a few girls that would tell me about their (or "their friend's") STD issues. It is a strange compliment-- knowing they are comfortable enough to talk to you, while assuming you're smart enough to know something about it. But still disturbing. This time, it wasn't a girl.
Student A pulled me out into the hallway to tell me, in a bashful and embarrassed voice, that he has a lump on his "well, I guess you could say, my testicle" and that he was afraid he has cancer and is going to die.
And then started describing it in detail, stuttering "I mean, not to gross you out.... I'm just..."
"A. You are probably fine. It's good that you know your body that well. Since you've got all those hormones in your system, there's a good chance, your body is just doing something funky, but anything out of the normal should be checked. Do you have a guy that can bring you to the doctor just in case?"
"...So I'm not going to die?!?!"
"The chances of you having a tumorous cancer at your age are pretty slim. I'm saying its probably nothing. BUT, if it is something, you probably caught it in time.... and if that is true, then the doctors can take care of it before it becomes a serious problem."
"So, if I go to the doctor, I'll probably be fine?"
"Yes. Most likely. Million to one."
"They won't.......chop my balls off?"
(How I did not burst into laughter is a miracle)
"I think you are probably safe."
"But, I had a family member who had cancer, and sometimes they have to cut into you to see if you have it..."
"That's a biopsy. And they just need a tiny, tiny piece of tissue. A few cells. You don't even have to be put to sleep when they take it."
"So, if I go to the doctor they're going to put a NEEDLE in my...."
......This conversation lasted far too long.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
There's Only so Much
Today some of my former students came to visit me. I always start off so happy to see them-- especially those I haven't seen in a while, or those I know had the potential of falling into the wrong future.
After today, I especially needed to hear something good. Why? Well, I finally made it to the wall. We have this joke at school that you're not a real teacher or administrator until some kid's written something shitty about you in the bathroom.
Well, yesterday was my day. One of my first hour students took spray paint and grafitti'd up the whole boys' bathroom before school. Not only did it list the top suspected gay kids at school (which goes to show you 1) our kids are insanely homophobic and 2) these are the kids that are teasing HIM about being gay.) but also wrote either "Miss J is a boring bitch," or "Miss J is a horny bitch." Honestly, from the sprawl, I couldn't tell which it said. Additionally, I don't know which offends me more.
So, this morning, while my AP told me this, laughing and thinking it was hilarious, as I quietly fumed, I thought-- I pour my SOUL into you. My SOUL. All my time. And this is what I get? Yeah, yeah. I know. It shouldn't bother me. But it does. It's one thing to write that I have a big ass. Its another thing to make it seem like I don't care. What's worse is that I feel like the rest of the kids, if they knew.... would maybe agree. Again, I should stop beating myself up. But its hard.
So, after school, still feeling exhausted, insulted and overwhelmed (you'd think by year 5 nothing would shock or upset me.....) three of my babies came in. The first is a girl, who in 7th grade, was a real piece of work. Super low academically, and a diva to the extreme. I was a little worried about having her, but she turned out to be totally awesome. Academically....still low, but the girl never gave up and always came in with a good attitude. I respected that so much.
After a bit of small talk, she admitted that she'd come for a reason, but she was afraid to tell me.
"C, you know I might not like it, but I'm going to love you anyway. Its okay."
"Well, Miss J, I was at this party. And there was drinking and smokin, so I got to be drinking and smokin' and then I went home with my boyfriend and well, now.... I'm pregnant."
No sigh. No look of judgment. Just questions:
What's your plan? You have someone to help you through this? How do you feel about it? Are you afraid? Have you seen a doctor? What are you going to do about school? Is the father a part of your life? Is your family supportive?
She has plans, she told me. She lives with the father's family already, and they're supportive. Plus, she's got family in LA, so she's going to go there and get into singing and modeling. Oh, and K? That tiny girl from my homeroom who was saucy and spritely and so, so smart? Yeah. She had a baby girl.
Then B chimed in, trying to cover the new tattoo he got on his wrist. It says his mom's name "Rosa."
"I saw it already, B."
"Are you mad at me?"
"What am I going to do about it? You guys are all going to look like you're 60 when you're 30."
"From partying too much, huh?"
"You got it. Besides, B, I thought you hated your mom...."
"I do but my dad's going to jail for 4 years, and she's still my mom.... I'm going to get his name tattooed on my other wrist."
"Drug stuff?"
"Nah, he got rid of those charges."
"For the drunk driving stuff?"
"No, he got out of that too. It's cuz he won't pay child support."
"Do you see him? Does he ever support you in other ways?"
"Well, yeah, we were going to switch the custody to him, but mom and my sister brought violence charges against me so....."
"Why won't he pay?"
"Well, my mom will just spend the money on other stuff, not us... so he doesn't want to give it to her. Oh also-- I'm going to run away."
"Do you have a safe place to go, B?"
Yeah. He's already staying in the house of two other former students who are regularly into cocaine.
Then the third. The nicest, sweetest, most helpful child you've ever met. Dimples, and shiny dark hair-- A is a teddy bear of a human being. She has two younger siblings, Joel who's in 4th grade, and a little sister who is 5.
"A please tell me your life is better...."
She burst into tears and shook her head.
"He's going to leave, Miss J. He's going to leave!"
"Your dad? Back to Mexico?"
A tearful nod. She is legal, so is the rest of her family. But her dad's work visa had expired and he'd stayed. Now, he's not.
"Are you worried about your younger siblings?"
"Miss J, they're going to grow up without a dad!"
"Does he have a place to go? Do you have family? Will he have a job?"
"Yeah. He'll have a taxi."
"How's your mom? Trying to be strong?"
I just stood there and hugged her. This girl, this gem, with this wonderful, loving, hard-working family. This model family. Falling apart before her eyes.
"When he goes, I don't know when we'll see him again."
I looked at all three of them. I stared at my alumni wall as they filled me in on others who'd dropped out, gone missing, were drugged up or pregnant.
"I wish I could keep you all in 8th grade forever. Keep you and protect you from everything," I said.
The younger grade level teachers don't understand how hard this is. The 6th grade science teacher (who is beyond awesome) was convincing me that I was a super star teacher the other day, when all I could think is this-is-so-hard-this-is-so-hard..... But even he can't possibly understand. When his kids leave, they may turn into horrid 7th graders, but by the time they REALLY leave..... they're out of sight, out of mind. He has a new crew he's bonded with.
With 8th grade its different.
One year, they are in your nest.
The next, eaten by the world.
I am so grateful they still come, still tell me, still know I care. But as soon as I'm home, it shatters me.
My administrator laughs when kids call me a bitch.
And mocks the kids who love me and want to come see me.
They can't win. I can't either.
There's only so much tragedy I can take.
After today, I especially needed to hear something good. Why? Well, I finally made it to the wall. We have this joke at school that you're not a real teacher or administrator until some kid's written something shitty about you in the bathroom.
Well, yesterday was my day. One of my first hour students took spray paint and grafitti'd up the whole boys' bathroom before school. Not only did it list the top suspected gay kids at school (which goes to show you 1) our kids are insanely homophobic and 2) these are the kids that are teasing HIM about being gay.) but also wrote either "Miss J is a boring bitch," or "Miss J is a horny bitch." Honestly, from the sprawl, I couldn't tell which it said. Additionally, I don't know which offends me more.
So, this morning, while my AP told me this, laughing and thinking it was hilarious, as I quietly fumed, I thought-- I pour my SOUL into you. My SOUL. All my time. And this is what I get? Yeah, yeah. I know. It shouldn't bother me. But it does. It's one thing to write that I have a big ass. Its another thing to make it seem like I don't care. What's worse is that I feel like the rest of the kids, if they knew.... would maybe agree. Again, I should stop beating myself up. But its hard.
So, after school, still feeling exhausted, insulted and overwhelmed (you'd think by year 5 nothing would shock or upset me.....) three of my babies came in. The first is a girl, who in 7th grade, was a real piece of work. Super low academically, and a diva to the extreme. I was a little worried about having her, but she turned out to be totally awesome. Academically....still low, but the girl never gave up and always came in with a good attitude. I respected that so much.
After a bit of small talk, she admitted that she'd come for a reason, but she was afraid to tell me.
"C, you know I might not like it, but I'm going to love you anyway. Its okay."
"Well, Miss J, I was at this party. And there was drinking and smokin, so I got to be drinking and smokin' and then I went home with my boyfriend and well, now.... I'm pregnant."
No sigh. No look of judgment. Just questions:
What's your plan? You have someone to help you through this? How do you feel about it? Are you afraid? Have you seen a doctor? What are you going to do about school? Is the father a part of your life? Is your family supportive?
She has plans, she told me. She lives with the father's family already, and they're supportive. Plus, she's got family in LA, so she's going to go there and get into singing and modeling. Oh, and K? That tiny girl from my homeroom who was saucy and spritely and so, so smart? Yeah. She had a baby girl.
Then B chimed in, trying to cover the new tattoo he got on his wrist. It says his mom's name "Rosa."
"I saw it already, B."
"Are you mad at me?"
"What am I going to do about it? You guys are all going to look like you're 60 when you're 30."
"From partying too much, huh?"
"You got it. Besides, B, I thought you hated your mom...."
"I do but my dad's going to jail for 4 years, and she's still my mom.... I'm going to get his name tattooed on my other wrist."
"Drug stuff?"
"Nah, he got rid of those charges."
"For the drunk driving stuff?"
"No, he got out of that too. It's cuz he won't pay child support."
"Do you see him? Does he ever support you in other ways?"
"Well, yeah, we were going to switch the custody to him, but mom and my sister brought violence charges against me so....."
"Why won't he pay?"
"Well, my mom will just spend the money on other stuff, not us... so he doesn't want to give it to her. Oh also-- I'm going to run away."
"Do you have a safe place to go, B?"
Yeah. He's already staying in the house of two other former students who are regularly into cocaine.
Then the third. The nicest, sweetest, most helpful child you've ever met. Dimples, and shiny dark hair-- A is a teddy bear of a human being. She has two younger siblings, Joel who's in 4th grade, and a little sister who is 5.
"A please tell me your life is better...."
She burst into tears and shook her head.
"He's going to leave, Miss J. He's going to leave!"
"Your dad? Back to Mexico?"
A tearful nod. She is legal, so is the rest of her family. But her dad's work visa had expired and he'd stayed. Now, he's not.
"Are you worried about your younger siblings?"
"Miss J, they're going to grow up without a dad!"
"Does he have a place to go? Do you have family? Will he have a job?"
"Yeah. He'll have a taxi."
"How's your mom? Trying to be strong?"
I just stood there and hugged her. This girl, this gem, with this wonderful, loving, hard-working family. This model family. Falling apart before her eyes.
"When he goes, I don't know when we'll see him again."
I looked at all three of them. I stared at my alumni wall as they filled me in on others who'd dropped out, gone missing, were drugged up or pregnant.
"I wish I could keep you all in 8th grade forever. Keep you and protect you from everything," I said.
The younger grade level teachers don't understand how hard this is. The 6th grade science teacher (who is beyond awesome) was convincing me that I was a super star teacher the other day, when all I could think is this-is-so-hard-this-is-so-hard..... But even he can't possibly understand. When his kids leave, they may turn into horrid 7th graders, but by the time they REALLY leave..... they're out of sight, out of mind. He has a new crew he's bonded with.
With 8th grade its different.
One year, they are in your nest.
The next, eaten by the world.
I am so grateful they still come, still tell me, still know I care. But as soon as I'm home, it shatters me.
My administrator laughs when kids call me a bitch.
And mocks the kids who love me and want to come see me.
They can't win. I can't either.
There's only so much tragedy I can take.
Tuesday, January 04, 2011
If only our kids knew what we said when they weren't around....
"Well, I'm going to draw a penis on YOUR bulletin board then."
"Fine! Then I'll penis YOURS!"
"Well, then I want it to have hairy balls."
"Harry Wong DOES fit in education."
"Fine! Then I'll penis YOURS!"
"Well, then I want it to have hairy balls."
"Harry Wong DOES fit in education."
"A Teacher who Cares"
While in a plane flying back from Chicago, I kept myself busy by reading The Disappearing Spoon by Sam Kean. The book, which is a tome of hilarious, intriguing, fascinating stories about the elements (believe it!), was in fact so good, that I had to take notes on it.
At one point, the woman (early 40s, wealthy judging from her jewelry) next to me asked me what I was doing. I explained I was teaching chemistry to 8th graders, and was trying to find relatable, interesting things to connect chemistry to my kids' lives. I told her I had been horrendously bored by chemistry when I was their age, so I wanted to make it interesting, fun, scandal-filled and relevant. To which she replied:
"How nice! A teacher who cares."
"I do!" I said, and thanked her.
And then, I got kind of pissed.
Wait a second, I thought. A teacher who cares?! Are you kidding me?!?! We ALL START OUT AS TEACHERS WHO CARE! We all start out insanely idealistic, thinking we can save the world, fix every child, "make a difference."
And then we get in to the field. Pedagogy and philosophy crumble in the face of reality, which laughs in your face like a mustache-twirling antagonist, ties you to the railroad tracks and rubs his hands in glee at the oncoming train.
After a couple years of feeling like parent, nurse, therapist and prison guard instead of just TEACHER, making everything you give to your children, working tirelessly on motivating them, calling parents, not getting them because their numbers don't work, grading papers for AGES, head turning to a soccer ball of baldness as you've pulled out your hair because they won't or can't do their homework and their parents can't help them.... Not getting enough support from administration, who if you are decent, don't bother with you because you CAN do it. You're not sinking, so you can clearly take on MORE. For no more pay. Be a leader. Teach every else even though you only have a couple paltry years under your belt.
Detentions? On your time. But you have to do them or admin won't help you. After school parental activities. On your time. Parent phone calls. On your time. Lesson planning and collaborating. On your time.
Being paid nothing, and being told its "okay" by others that don't get it because we "have summers off" and "have great benefits" and "besides, your job is done at 3."
Getting kids in your school that have called other teachers that they should "choke on a dick and die" and are allowed back. Kids dealing pot. Kids drunk in your classroom. Kids high. Kids fighting with bloody knuckles and knives. Kids that miss at least a day a week because school isn't a priority. Kids who miss days at a time to watch younger siblings while their parents work. Kids who write in diaries in your class about being "so fucking wasted." Pregnant girls.
You work through that, and find all of the diamonds in the rough and teach to them, try to get to the ones who are on the verge, and do your best to calm the ones who hate your guts. If you have anything left.
Every teacher starts out wanting to save the planet. And then, it gets beaten out of us as we burn, burn, burn the candle on both ends.
So don't tell me "oh, a teacher who cares." We all were, and many of us still are.
At one point, the woman (early 40s, wealthy judging from her jewelry) next to me asked me what I was doing. I explained I was teaching chemistry to 8th graders, and was trying to find relatable, interesting things to connect chemistry to my kids' lives. I told her I had been horrendously bored by chemistry when I was their age, so I wanted to make it interesting, fun, scandal-filled and relevant. To which she replied:
"How nice! A teacher who cares."
"I do!" I said, and thanked her.
And then, I got kind of pissed.
Wait a second, I thought. A teacher who cares?! Are you kidding me?!?! We ALL START OUT AS TEACHERS WHO CARE! We all start out insanely idealistic, thinking we can save the world, fix every child, "make a difference."
And then we get in to the field. Pedagogy and philosophy crumble in the face of reality, which laughs in your face like a mustache-twirling antagonist, ties you to the railroad tracks and rubs his hands in glee at the oncoming train.
After a couple years of feeling like parent, nurse, therapist and prison guard instead of just TEACHER, making everything you give to your children, working tirelessly on motivating them, calling parents, not getting them because their numbers don't work, grading papers for AGES, head turning to a soccer ball of baldness as you've pulled out your hair because they won't or can't do their homework and their parents can't help them.... Not getting enough support from administration, who if you are decent, don't bother with you because you CAN do it. You're not sinking, so you can clearly take on MORE. For no more pay. Be a leader. Teach every else even though you only have a couple paltry years under your belt.
Detentions? On your time. But you have to do them or admin won't help you. After school parental activities. On your time. Parent phone calls. On your time. Lesson planning and collaborating. On your time.
Being paid nothing, and being told its "okay" by others that don't get it because we "have summers off" and "have great benefits" and "besides, your job is done at 3."
Getting kids in your school that have called other teachers that they should "choke on a dick and die" and are allowed back. Kids dealing pot. Kids drunk in your classroom. Kids high. Kids fighting with bloody knuckles and knives. Kids that miss at least a day a week because school isn't a priority. Kids who miss days at a time to watch younger siblings while their parents work. Kids who write in diaries in your class about being "so fucking wasted." Pregnant girls.
You work through that, and find all of the diamonds in the rough and teach to them, try to get to the ones who are on the verge, and do your best to calm the ones who hate your guts. If you have anything left.
Every teacher starts out wanting to save the planet. And then, it gets beaten out of us as we burn, burn, burn the candle on both ends.
So don't tell me "oh, a teacher who cares." We all were, and many of us still are.
Monday, January 03, 2011
Cue the Queen
And no, I am not talking about feather boas and platform shoes.
I am referring to a tradition our school has been keen on following for the last couple of years....
Problem 1:
Not enough seasoned teachers to go around
Problem 2:
Not enough money to get skilled teachers
Problem 3:
People leave last minute
Solution:
Hire people who can't cut it because you have no choice.
End result:
Dernt, dernt, dernt...another one bites the dust....
So far we have lost or are losing:
The most incredible, amazing helpful disciplinarian the school has seen, Ms. M
Our snarky and fantastic groundskeeper (district relocated him to another school)
A 4th grade teacher who's health problems make it impossible for her to continue
Two teachers in the 7/8 building-- first year here, probably didn't know what they were in for.
I have this fear that by the end of this year, the school is going to be an apocalyptic wasteland. Worse yet, while we were on the upswing, I predict the cost will be high-- I think many of the people with a few years are going to leave. Mass exodus, leaving the school back again where it was a couple years ago-- with more 1st years than anything else.
It's not going to be pretty.
I am referring to a tradition our school has been keen on following for the last couple of years....
Problem 1:
Not enough seasoned teachers to go around
Problem 2:
Not enough money to get skilled teachers
Problem 3:
People leave last minute
Solution:
Hire people who can't cut it because you have no choice.
End result:
Dernt, dernt, dernt...another one bites the dust....
So far we have lost or are losing:
The most incredible, amazing helpful disciplinarian the school has seen, Ms. M
Our snarky and fantastic groundskeeper (district relocated him to another school)
A 4th grade teacher who's health problems make it impossible for her to continue
Two teachers in the 7/8 building-- first year here, probably didn't know what they were in for.
I have this fear that by the end of this year, the school is going to be an apocalyptic wasteland. Worse yet, while we were on the upswing, I predict the cost will be high-- I think many of the people with a few years are going to leave. Mass exodus, leaving the school back again where it was a couple years ago-- with more 1st years than anything else.
It's not going to be pretty.
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