Back to School

The tornado that is school has begun and I’m now over two weeks in. I’ve climbed over the wall of exhaustion that hit me smack in the face week one and have started to find my footing. Learning about the new students has been fun, exhausting and challenging. I’ve had my hair sucked, been punched, bitten, spit on and gotten lots of remorseful hugs.

What I like most about the school year is the routine. I’m so glad that I am beginning to settle a bit into my school-work and creative-work routine and have been able to find time to hang with friends and relax some too. I am most definitely a creature of habit – like in a need some medication kind of way – so I take a lot of comfort in my life having the air of predictability.

Don’t get me wrong, there’s a lot about my job that is completely unpredictable. I just like to ignore that part as much as possible. Like the part where teachers and students get shuffled around unceremoniously leading to a lot of mayhem and stress. There’s also the part where working with special needs kids is never predictable. Moods vary from day to day, activity to activity – really more like moment to moment. Sometimes they decide to scream a high pitched someone-is-killing-me kind of scream during class. And sometimes when they get frustrated with their work they will turn and yell “Bite Wright!” and dive to take a chunk out of my leg.

Something else that is predictably unpredictable is the behavior of co-workers, many of whom seem to have more special needs than the kids. You never know when the next controversy will break out over duty schedules, comp-time, dress code – you name it. It has been my observation that teaching assistant seem to lack some sort of fulfillment in their job that leads them to nitpick at others. It’s hard to out-boss teachers but teaching assistants win hands down. They’re like that obnoxious kid that always reports even the smallest infractions to anyone they can find. I’m somewhat of a misfit in the group based on my age (I’m much younger), style (I have it and they don’t), class (I wait till people are gone to talk about them) and ambition (I don’t plan to be a teaching assistant for the next 30 years.)

It’s during mind numbing meetings, arguments and hooplas that I let my mind wander to a t-shirt I could screen print, a dress I want to make or something I want to paint. As my sanity unravels through the rest of the school year, I am happy that I can find some serenity in the parts of my life that are (almost) pretty.