Fall Break

"But Sevier County doesn't have a Fall Break," you mutter to yourself as you read the title of this blog post. 

You're right, it doesn't.

School's been in session for two months now, with one long weekend at Labor Day and no real breaks in sight until Thanksgiving.

"Breaks!" you scoff. "You get weekends! Normal jobs don't have breaks like school does. SUCK IT UP."

Weekends. 

Those would be nice if I didn't spend them working.

I'm not complaining about my job. I knew what I signed up for when I applied. I work 10-11 hours, five days a week, and then a minimum of 11 hours over the weekend. If I'm lucky and work really hard on Friday night and all day Saturday, I can have Sunday off.

I usually spend my time not at school thinking about school, even if I try not to.

And, as is the case for most young teachers, I often feel like I'm floundering because I can't meet the impossible standards set before me.

But it was time for a Fall Break, so I signed up for a sub and prepared myself to get a WHOLE SATURDAY off.
I. Was. Jazzed.

On Thursday night, I was rebellious and went to MagiQuest with my friend Josh instead of going to bed at 9:00.

On Friday, I spent the day planning, grading, and looking at the rubric for my upcoming observed lesson (Y'all. A five-page rubric for one lesson. I've been sweating about it since September). I also went through a few stages of guilt because I felt like I'd abandoned my kids for a day and was SURE something terrible was going to happen (but the kids lived without me).

At 5:00, though, I put it all down to go out to dinner with some friends I used to babysit for.

That's right. I put it down.

And it stayed down through Saturday, which was THE BEST day.

On Saturday, I went to Chattanooga to be with Lisa, the roommate who shaped my entire college experience. We shopped, visited Covenant, and went hiking.

We had a roommate date.

It started with a macchiato that was nothing like what Starbucks has taught me a macchiato is. That cup was the size of my pinky.

We sloshed over the walking bridge.

We tasted Balsamic vinegars, which were shockingly good.

We visited Julie Darlin Donuts (no, we did NOT eat all of those).

We were silly on the merry-go-round.

I sat on Asia (and, as usual, I was bigger than everyone there).

That Balsamic vinegar geared us up for Greek lunch.

We visited our old hall (but didn't burst into our old room like we wanted to).

We gazed off The Veranda.

Lisa demonstrated how she used to spend chapel.

We looked for the broken boat by Jackson Pond, but didn't find it.

We hiked to the overlook that is easy to find.

We hiked to the overlook that is hard to find.

Then we spent an hour on a cliff.

We also what we used to call our "magic kingdom". It hasn't lost its magic. 

In the realm of school, there will always be more to do. I will never be caught up. Even today, the Sunday of my "Fall Break", I spent the afternoon inputting grades and googling resources. But taking a break made my school problems look a little bit smaller and reminded me that there is a Laura outside of Miss Love. 

I don't speak "School".

Y'all are going to get tired of all these posts about teaching, but until I figure out how to grade/plan/be a teacher like The Flash, I won't have anything else to write about.

However, in lieu of my not being able to go many places right now, I'd like to write a short piece on how one's first job in an American school is much like adjusting to another country.

1) Everyone speaks a different language.

RTI?

Star Testing?

Renaissance Learning?

Skyward?

Tier Three?

HANG ON, I need Google Translate for this.

2) Plans usually don't work out.

The copier ran out of ink and I didn't know until the tests I was passing out turned out to be blank? OH WELL. Everybody....work on narratives instead. 

Prompt:

Write a story about a) someone who always has bad luck, or b) a tired teacher who doesn't check all her copies when they come out of the copy machine.

3) You're slow. At everything.

Two years ago it took me three hours to go to a real grocery store. 

These days it takes me three-four hours to plan ten lessons (that will all be replanned the morning before I teach them). 

4) Technology is unpredictable.

Like when the microwave in the teachers' lounge stops working at lunchtime. 

5) Everything around you feels dirty.

MMMMMM. The germs of hundreds of small people all packed into a one-story building...coated in a layer of pencil lead smeared by Dorito-laced fingertips.

6) Going out of your room at the wrong time can get you run over.

Packed hallways complete with the smells of sweaty, stressed bodies.

7) Chocolate will make you more excited than it used to.

Overseas, Twix is a miracle because it's a rare find. At school, Twix is a miracle because any form of chocolate will help everything feel more ok.

8) You come home drained from sensory overload.

But this time, it's because at least 60 people needed something from me that day.

9) Contact with friends can completely change your day.

Overseas, the problem was time difference. Now it's because their conversations remind me that life exists outside of the classroom.

"You met someone on Ok Cupid? You're going on a date? HAHA. What's a date?"

10) Baking will fix everything.

At least, for a little while.