Tuesday, April 3, 2012

It's The Livin' and Learnin'

Sometimes, I am deeply unsatisfied.

Not with the essentials in life--those are quite nice--but with certain particulars. Namely, my job.

Now, don't fret. All is not lost. My tutoring gig is not the exquisite torture it once was. In fact, it's quite survivable now, thanks to some endearing kids that somehow manage to make me chuckle. But reason number one? Listening to this song every day on my trek to work:



That always boosts my spirits. And not just because DBT's singer slightly reminds me of my dear friend Al, but because it reminds me that "nobody told me that it'd be easy/ or, for that matter, it'd be so hard/ but it's the livin' and learnin'/ it makes all the difference/ it makes it all worthwhile." Sometimes I need to hear that, set to upbeat guitar chords. Sometimes I just need to know life sucks, but you deal with it.

Especially when I've been plagued with the yearning that's been haunting me lately. You see I want something.




That. That's all I want. I want my own space, a space I can fill with book posters and writing tips and rules on the wall. A space with my handwriting on the board. A space where I can put my bookshelf filled with books for my kids to borrow. I'll even put my John Green novels on there, despite the fact that the students will trash them, because I love the stories so much that I know it's more important to share them than it is to keep them pristine. That is, as long as they come back to me in the end.

Speaking of which, that's what I want more than anything. My own students. My own minds to fill with my own lessons. My own teachings echoing around a classroom that I design and I control. My own classes with students that are my responsibility--report cards, conferences, keeping after class, encouraging comments in red ink. Keeping them after class to say I know they can do better. Watching their knowledge grow from day to day. Watching student interest and behavior morph. Observing the frantic stretchings of adolescents as they struggle into adulthood, as they take on their own ideas and beliefs.

I miss that. So much that it's a constant gnawing in my stomach, that proverbial ache that won't go away. I'm a teacher. And I want my classroom.

Non-related side note for all those who made it to the end: Yes, I got married recently. My friend Luke took my bridals, and posted some on his blog. You should go there and check it out. A) I look awesome, B) Luke is a freaking wizard, and C) He referenced the White Stripes. Could it get any better? All right. Requisite marriage talk over.

1 comment:

David's Holla Atchya! Blog said...

I totally know the feeling about your own classroom. And let me tell you- when you get it it's n-i-c-e.