Early Release, Snipers & Patience

A good five minutes have ticked on by, and I have sat here staring blankly, reviewing my week for funny, witty, inspiring anecdotes to post. Still, nothing comes to mind.

My yoga teacher advises us to meditate for at least five minutes a day, but something tells me this little slice of time doesn't fit her idea of meditation.

Somehow I have got to get my funnyback. The fact that I misplaced it somewhere is a bit disconcerting, and from hearing from quite a few of you out there, you're having that kind of year, too.  You know, the kind of year that makes you feel like you've been ridden hard and put up wet.

The start of my work week promises to be interesting. We have an early release day which means the kiddos only come for half a day. Then the rest of our day is supposed to be allotted for that fun-filled extravaganza we refer to as "teacher inservice"  or "professional development." (And, we all know how I feel about that.)

We actually have an interesting one planned. Former Navy Seal Chris Kyle is coming to talk to us. Called the "most lethal sniper" in American history, he penned the bestselling book called "American Sniper." He just happens to be a graduate of the school I teach at.  Thus, the invite to talk to us.

And, no, I was not teaching there when he was a student. And yes, I'm reading the book. And yes, I have the highest respect for our military soldiers. But no, I'm not quite sure what the correlation is between being a Navy SEAL and a high school teacher or being a sniper and a high school teacher.

I was hoping that perhaps the invite was some sort of precursor to a newfangled security system, and that maybe, just maybe, we'd all be issued tasers or something. 

But no siree, Missy, sadly, that apparently is not the case.

Naturally, all of this buzz about Mr. Kyle coming to our school got me to thinking a lot about his talk, and what--if any--similarities there are between the two jobs. Well, here are my best list of possibilities…

•Emotional Detachment… SEALs and snipers have to perform their duties without letting their feelings get in the way, and teachers can't very well call someone a big fat stupid head in their classrooms, now can they? Hmmmm, although now I'm thinking that Navy SEALs can pretty much call anyone anything they want at anytime, so maybe we should strike this similarity off our list.

•Paperwork… I don't need to explain the paper trails running through schools across our great land, but I certainly was surprised that even snipers, according to Mr. Kyle's book, must fill out paperwork justification. Really? How crazy is that?

•Danger… My hall buddy Rhonda recently got beaned in head by a wayward rubber eraser someone threw during a passing period and the art teacher injured her leg when some art stuff fell on top of her.  OK, OK, OK… so being a SEAL is way more dangerous, so that can't be it.

•Patience… Ah, now this might be the real correlation between being a sniper and a high school teacher. No one can argue that both require an inordinate amount of patience. I'm hoping Mr. Kyle can give me a few pointers there. 

I'm thinking this should be a pretty interesting talk after all.

Pep Rallies, Fishing Poles and Go Fish

Week Two ended with our first pep rally launching us right into Labor Day weekend and maybe an end to our unrelenting heat wave.

For the most part, the pep rally which had a beach theme (Beach…then insert whatever your opponent's name) was pretty standard fare. The seniors were admonished not to belittle, berate or "boo" the freshmen. So instead, our seniors carried signs that simply said, "Boo," and then, when the freshmen did their little spirit chant, the seniors whipped out homemade fishing poles with fish attached to them.

That got my BFF to thinking about all the things teachers could attach to fishing poles when we are supposed to behave at teacher meetings. She had some pretty funny suggestions, but pretty much all of them belong in my "Things That Will Get You Fired Folder."

Hand Raising, Geometric Shapes & Squiggly Feelings

Raise your hands if you survived the first week of school.

Raise your hands if your feet hurt after the first week of school.

Raise your hands if you’re ready for summer to roll around.

Did your hand pop up all three times? I know mine did. So while I should be working on my lesson plans for the week, some yearbook page designs and those darn tootin’ purchase orders that sadly I meant to complete sometime over the summer but never did, I’ve decided instead to do what any self-respecting Squiggle would do.

Rebel.

Oh my, I guess I forgot to tell you about the whole Circle, Square, Triangle, Squiggle thing. Almost sounds like a bad game of “Rock, Paper, Scissors” doesn’t it? The Squiggle thing was all a part of this teacher in-service motivational thing that touched upon Psycho-Geometrics. At any rate, we discovered how our personalities fit a specific shape with special attributes. Squiggles apparently have high energy (so why am I so-o-o-o-o-o tired?), possess a sense of humor (that explains my rubber chicken and hand puppets) and exhibit a certain level of creative intelligence (well folks, just read this ole bloggeroo).

Squiggles also tend to like to challenge the status quo and rebel. Apparently, Squiggles have difficulty completing tasks like those pesky purchase orders.

For the first week of school, I decided to do the same little test with my newspaper and yearbook staffs as part of our “getting to know you” exercises.

About 98 percent professed to be Squiggles.

Jeez Louise, now do you see why I’m ready for summer to roll back around?

Snake oil & motivational speakers

Snake oil.

Sadly that’s what first pops into my mind as I sit through yet another motivational speaker on the Welcome Back Day for teachers. Now mind you, I have nothing against motivational speakers. In fact, this one rates pretty high on my rating scale of smiley faces–probably worth eight smileys. (He was much better than the handshaking guy I listened to a few years back, but that’s an entirely different story.)

Still, sadly the fact remains, that I can’t shake that snake oil image. I like a good yarn as much as the next person, but I tend to wonder if we don’t have a bit of the Janet Cooke’s Jimmy working here. (Remember her? The Washington Post journalist who had to return her Pulitzer Prize once it was discovered that the main character–an 8-year-old heroin addict named Jimmy –was not a real person. It made for a great story, but that’s all it was–a story. It was a sad day for journalism and marked the beginning of a series of fourth estate betrayals.

But let’s get back to the issue here. While listening to yet another sad story about how a teacher ripped the heart out of her fifth grade student, I marveled at my own educational history. I must be some sort of anomaly because I never had a teacher tell me I was a failure at life and would never amount to anything. Did I face mean teachers? Yes. Insensitive ones? Sure. Incompetent ones? Of course. But don’t you pretty much find those types of people in all kinds of professions? That’s just life, isn’t it?

So, let’s raise our hands and ask…Where exactly are these teachers and how come every motivational speaker had a teacher who channeled the Wicked Witch of the West? And then let’s ponder how come that teacher was always followed by Glinda the Good Witch of the North who inspired them to be all they can be? (And while we’re at it, just where in the Sam Hill are those ruby slippers anyway?…Sorry, got off track.)

But you see what I mean? It’s a bad version of good cop/bad cop. In the gazillion years–ok make that 22 years of teaching–I’ve never run across a peer who face-to-face, toe-to-toe told a kid, “I don’t like you. You’ll never amount to anything.” Now that is not to say that teachers (sadly again, myself included) from time to time haven’t thought, “Geez, you’re such a big, fat stupidhead.”

But that really shouldn’t be much of a shocker either. I think those thoughts can pop into your head regardless of your profession. In fact, I often think that about other drivers while maneuvering through rush hour traffic. (I have patience issues.) But to actually have those words reverberate across my vocal chords or any of my teacher friends, well, I don’t think so. Otherwise, I might encounter a nasty bit of road rage involving Mr. Smith & Wesson in the traffic “situation.” In a classroom “situation,” I’m sure my rather large behind would be sitting in the principal’s office. And, it wouldn’t be pretty, and I’m not just talking about my backside either.

It all just makes me wonder why we listen and gasp mesmerized by these witchy teacher stories. This doesn’t mean that these incidents haven’t occurred. I’m just saying that apparently these happen disproportionately to motivational speakers. Sort of a badge of the trade, I guess. So now that I’ve reached this epiphany, I’ll have to cross that field off my “Potential Things I Could Do If I Didn’t Teach” list.

Regardless of this new insight, I still joined in the laughter and felt a few tingly sensations once or twice as I listened to our speaker. I applauded, nodded in agreement, smiled and even stood for the ovation.

Snake oil. Not a cure, but it sure feels good.