How do I manage to go so long without writing? I watched a documentary of Anne LaMott's "Bird by Bird" the other night, and one of the things she emphasizes--as do many others--is to set aside time each day to write. I seem to set aside time each quarter! That said, here I am for today. Spring break has begun and I find myself needing to work and loathe to do much of anything. I am tired, nearly exhausted, and having a hard time getting my feeble brain to focus. I will, however, have lesson plans and serious direction for next quarter set up by the end of the week.
While I am enjoying teaching (usually), I am really feeling an escalation of the good old anxiety issues over the past few weeks. Not sure what is causing it, but it gets to me and becomes somewhat paralyzing at times. I find myself back to those fears of being exposed...that if the folks who employ me really knew what my capabilities are, they would fire me on the spot. Why does this thought haunt me in all facets of my life? Others seem confident of their abilities and knowledge; yet no matter how many people tell me that I am intelligent and capable, I see myself as an idiot who is fooling the world somehow and on the verge of being found out. I have to take a subject area test this summer sometime and find myself terrified that I will fail it miserably and immediately be out of work. I hate that I think like this, yet find it comes quite naturally and is difficult (nearly impossible) to purge from my brain.
That seems to be about it for today. Talk to you all in about a month!
Monday, March 29, 2010
Monday, February 15, 2010
Standardized Tests and Nonstandardized Students
I have been meaning to write this for a week, but it seems other things keep popping up that are more important. You know, things like...LEARNING HOW TO BE A TEACHER!! Last Tuesday (and again tomorrow) it was my job to proctor standardized tests in the computer lab. All six of my classes spent an hour on the computers doing tests which may or may not tell us much of anything about them. My role was to act as an encourager and accountability partner while they did the tests and then review their scores with each student upon completion of the exam to see if they should take another shot at it. I am thrilled to report that my students did exceedingly well on the tests! Tomorrow, they have to take the reading section. I am sure they will be overjoyed.
The idea of sixty students taking the same test with the same teacher forced me to consider my kids as a group and also as individuals. Some sat down and knocked out the test with no complaint or delay. Others were a bit more challenging. One kept falling asleep. I woke him up three or four times during the hour and prodded him to stay with it at other times. Of course, upon completion, I discovered that he had done quite well on the test. It figures! One girl got an "average" score and wasn't happy with it. She took it again and did twelve points better. Her face lit up when we reviewed things together after her second attempt.
The moral of the story? I am required to teach in ways that give us the best chance of showing improvement on standardized tests. I love to teach because each student is an individual with a life both in and outside our classroom and our building. In one short month, I have become deeply attached to the individuals who grace my classes and the larger mosaic they are creating. It only took forty-five years for me to be allowed to do that thing for which I was created. As I reviewed repeatedly in our media literacy unit: ba da da da da...I'M LOVIN' IT!!
The idea of sixty students taking the same test with the same teacher forced me to consider my kids as a group and also as individuals. Some sat down and knocked out the test with no complaint or delay. Others were a bit more challenging. One kept falling asleep. I woke him up three or four times during the hour and prodded him to stay with it at other times. Of course, upon completion, I discovered that he had done quite well on the test. It figures! One girl got an "average" score and wasn't happy with it. She took it again and did twelve points better. Her face lit up when we reviewed things together after her second attempt.
The moral of the story? I am required to teach in ways that give us the best chance of showing improvement on standardized tests. I love to teach because each student is an individual with a life both in and outside our classroom and our building. In one short month, I have become deeply attached to the individuals who grace my classes and the larger mosaic they are creating. It only took forty-five years for me to be allowed to do that thing for which I was created. As I reviewed repeatedly in our media literacy unit: ba da da da da...I'M LOVIN' IT!!
Sunday, January 24, 2010
The Teaching Gig
Two months have passed and much of life has changed. In November, I was unemployed and muddling along. Since the last post, I have been hired twice and am working in my dream job. That's right, I am officially teaching. I went to grad school with the hope of teaching in a college setting and thought that is where I would end up. The more involved in the reconciliation conversation I became, the more obvious it was to me that I needed to teach in a school that would allow me to be involved in touching lives that might otherwise be forgotten. And now that opportunity has been afforded me.
I am entering my third week teaching Language Arts at the New America School's Denver campus. Our campus is considered "high-risk" and approximately 65 percent of our students have dropped out of other schools. What I have found is a group of students who have a hard time dealing with life in the structures of "normal" American school systems but are smart and engaging when given the opportunity. Unfortunately, many of these students will likely fall through the cracks as they have involved themselves in behaviors and lifestyles that will make success difficult: gangs, parenthood, drugs and alcohol, etc.
While I love what I am doing, pretty much every minute that I am not with students is spent wondering if I am going to be exposed as a fraud...that what I have always wanted to do will prove to be more than I am capable of doing. There is so much that I don't know and trying to learn to teach on the fly is definitely a challenge. I genuinely hope this works out as I love it more than anything I have ever done. Still, there are no guarantees. The road ahead is beautiful, yet treacherous. It could be an amazing journey or a horrifying crash! Too late to turn back though; I'm on my way!
I am entering my third week teaching Language Arts at the New America School's Denver campus. Our campus is considered "high-risk" and approximately 65 percent of our students have dropped out of other schools. What I have found is a group of students who have a hard time dealing with life in the structures of "normal" American school systems but are smart and engaging when given the opportunity. Unfortunately, many of these students will likely fall through the cracks as they have involved themselves in behaviors and lifestyles that will make success difficult: gangs, parenthood, drugs and alcohol, etc.
While I love what I am doing, pretty much every minute that I am not with students is spent wondering if I am going to be exposed as a fraud...that what I have always wanted to do will prove to be more than I am capable of doing. There is so much that I don't know and trying to learn to teach on the fly is definitely a challenge. I genuinely hope this works out as I love it more than anything I have ever done. Still, there are no guarantees. The road ahead is beautiful, yet treacherous. It could be an amazing journey or a horrifying crash! Too late to turn back though; I'm on my way!
Friday, November 13, 2009
Friday the 13th
Seems appropriate that I sit here to write this post on Friday the 13th, as that seems to be the day that best represents me. Yet another rejection letter from a potential employer arrived today. "We had numerous qualified candidates apply for the position. You are not one of them. Good luck at Sam's Club!" When will I ever learn to stop getting my hopes up?
I went back to school, spent a lot of money, time and effort to improve myself and get an advanced degree. Now, after having gotten the degree, I find myself further behind than I was before. No job and more debt. Lovely. What is my problem? I will be 45 in a couple of weeks and am going to start a part-time, entry-level job with no future. I fried my brain trying to be a pastor and can not return to that field, no matter what. Yet, it seems to be the only kind of work for which I am considered qualified.
I face the specter of spending the rest of my life in menial, barely-better-than-minimum-wage jobs and watching my wife work herself to death to support us. How do I face her...not just now, but twenty years from now? How can I handle knowing my kids will have to fend for themselves because their dad just isn't capable of earning a living? My oldest is already in over her head because I am not able to help her get through college, which every parent is supposed to do and supposed to be capable of doing.
My parents and my wife tell me that I am not what I see myself as. How can they not see the truth after all these years? Their investment in me seems to blind them to the reality of the situation. I offer nothing of value to this world. I hate myself and the mess I am making of the lives of those about whom I care deeply. I am so sorry to have dragged my family into this mess. I wish they could get a mulligan.
I went back to school, spent a lot of money, time and effort to improve myself and get an advanced degree. Now, after having gotten the degree, I find myself further behind than I was before. No job and more debt. Lovely. What is my problem? I will be 45 in a couple of weeks and am going to start a part-time, entry-level job with no future. I fried my brain trying to be a pastor and can not return to that field, no matter what. Yet, it seems to be the only kind of work for which I am considered qualified.
I face the specter of spending the rest of my life in menial, barely-better-than-minimum-wage jobs and watching my wife work herself to death to support us. How do I face her...not just now, but twenty years from now? How can I handle knowing my kids will have to fend for themselves because their dad just isn't capable of earning a living? My oldest is already in over her head because I am not able to help her get through college, which every parent is supposed to do and supposed to be capable of doing.
My parents and my wife tell me that I am not what I see myself as. How can they not see the truth after all these years? Their investment in me seems to blind them to the reality of the situation. I offer nothing of value to this world. I hate myself and the mess I am making of the lives of those about whom I care deeply. I am so sorry to have dragged my family into this mess. I wish they could get a mulligan.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
A Break in the Clouds
Well, despite all my anxiety and depression, it has been a pretty good week. Last Tuesday I received a letter of eligibility to begin looking for teaching jobs in Colorado schools. While there aren't exactly a ton of openings in October, I have until January to find a job and gain entry into the Teacher in Residence Program. Then we had our church retreat and it was a really good time. At the end of the retreat, Cole and I were invited to go to the Broncos/Patriots game with a new friend from our church. We had such a great time and I will always cherish the opportunity to go to my first pro football game with my son. The look on his face throughout the game was priceless. Then today I had a meeting/interview and was added to the substitute teacher at a local charter school. So I am getting into the process and figuring out how to go for the jobs that are available. And that is a really good first step. I have miles to go before I am healthy and back on my feet but at least I am making some progress.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Halfway Through and Already Finished
For most of my life my parents, my teachers, my friends, my wife have been telling me I have a lot to offer, that I bring many skills to the game, that I am filled with potential. I am now 44 and am resigned to the fact that they are all wrong. I am halfway through a race in which I have no chance at winning. Well, probably more than halfway as I don't see any way that I live to 88, but you get my meaning. There is no way I will ever make a living, provide for my family, or make a lasting and positive impact on anyone or anything. I am, to borrow a phrase from my brother-in-law, a waste of skin.
I have applied for numerous jobs in the past few months. Not only do I not get the jobs, nor the interviews, I don't even get the letter, the call or the email telling me that I didn't get the job. I have tried getting hired doing jobs that require no education like working in a bookstore or opening the door and admitting people at the YMCA and still get no response. I guess that is common in today's economy so if that were the only problem, I might be able to handle it. But because I feel the need to do something, to get out of the house and be productive somehow, I put out some feelers for doing volunteer work...and was REJECTED! Yes, that is correct folks: I am not even qualified to volunteer.
So I am middle aged, unskilled and undesirable. I am a burden on my wife, my kids, my parents, the friends I have left and there is nothing to indicate that it is ever going to get better.
I have applied for numerous jobs in the past few months. Not only do I not get the jobs, nor the interviews, I don't even get the letter, the call or the email telling me that I didn't get the job. I have tried getting hired doing jobs that require no education like working in a bookstore or opening the door and admitting people at the YMCA and still get no response. I guess that is common in today's economy so if that were the only problem, I might be able to handle it. But because I feel the need to do something, to get out of the house and be productive somehow, I put out some feelers for doing volunteer work...and was REJECTED! Yes, that is correct folks: I am not even qualified to volunteer.
So I am middle aged, unskilled and undesirable. I am a burden on my wife, my kids, my parents, the friends I have left and there is nothing to indicate that it is ever going to get better.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Paging Dr. House
SPOILER ALERT!!
I watched the two-hour season premiere of House last night, in which our anti-hero was locked up in an asylum trying to get himself together. It was an episode that hit really close to home. Not so much while he was institutionalized, as House did everything he could to sabotage himself and others, but more when he was leaving. There is a moment of hesitation when the camera shot is close-up on House's face. There is fear and uncertainty there. That is what hit me. Dealing with the first obvious symptoms of mental health issues--for me it was the first anxiety attack--is terrifying. Going through a mental disorder like depression and general anxiety is overwhelming and lonely. However, the prospect of being declared "well" and being sent back into the world to try to work and function is as scary as hell itself. Failure to handle one's problems at home alone is embarrassing enough, but what happens if the meltdowns occur again while working? What if I can't make it in the real world and end up a mental and emotional invalid, burdening my wife, my kids and our families until the day I die? What if there really is no "well," and this is who I am. Will the pressures of life reveal that more vividly when I try to go back to "normal"?
I find myself torn between my desire to overcome my fears and face down my demons and the enticing desire to hide in my house, to find some sort of work that isolates me and allows me to work from the computer in my recliner. Like House, I peer out at the future and its possibilities and I have a glimmer of hope wrapped up in a cloud of anxiety. What's next? I only wish I knew.
I watched the two-hour season premiere of House last night, in which our anti-hero was locked up in an asylum trying to get himself together. It was an episode that hit really close to home. Not so much while he was institutionalized, as House did everything he could to sabotage himself and others, but more when he was leaving. There is a moment of hesitation when the camera shot is close-up on House's face. There is fear and uncertainty there. That is what hit me. Dealing with the first obvious symptoms of mental health issues--for me it was the first anxiety attack--is terrifying. Going through a mental disorder like depression and general anxiety is overwhelming and lonely. However, the prospect of being declared "well" and being sent back into the world to try to work and function is as scary as hell itself. Failure to handle one's problems at home alone is embarrassing enough, but what happens if the meltdowns occur again while working? What if I can't make it in the real world and end up a mental and emotional invalid, burdening my wife, my kids and our families until the day I die? What if there really is no "well," and this is who I am. Will the pressures of life reveal that more vividly when I try to go back to "normal"?
I find myself torn between my desire to overcome my fears and face down my demons and the enticing desire to hide in my house, to find some sort of work that isolates me and allows me to work from the computer in my recliner. Like House, I peer out at the future and its possibilities and I have a glimmer of hope wrapped up in a cloud of anxiety. What's next? I only wish I knew.
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