So a sixth grade teacher...

To dismiss all rumors that I have fallen off the face of the planet, I am writing to inform all the white mothers that I am alive. Well...barely. I am back in Utah and am a sixth grade teacher in Springville. I still can't believe it. I started on Wednesday, January 2nd. It is only 15 mins away, and I was blessed to randomly meet a girl in DC that knew an intern at my elementary school that would give me rides. Okay, it sounds kinda crazy and probably doesn't make sense, but my point is that I have a ride to work. I wasn't nervous about moving to Utah without a car, but then I actually moved here and realized that UTA is nothing like the DC public transportation. The metro runs like clockwork, and UTA...well, it doesn't. I had a horrid flight to Utah on Friday, and I didn't get to Provo until Saturday at 2am! I then met my principal at my school at 6:30am. Needless to say, I did not look very good. Acutally, I looked disgusting. Great first impression, huh? I only had three days to set up a classroom and have it up and running by Wednesday. It was truly baptism by fire. I have never experienced so much stress in my life. Poor Jeff had to attempt to console me over the phone as I continually burst into tears. The worst part about the whole thing was I didn't have my own transportation. I was forced to rely on my brother and sister-in-law, which feels horrible. I hate that feeling of being needy. Things only got worse as I realized that they had no time to help. I realized that I had absolutely no way of getting to the school to set up. Horrible! Horrible! Horrible! But I did get there finally and did all I could do. My first day was great, even though I had only slept three hours the night before (I hate how I get so anxious). I finished my first week today and have so much to do. I can't even believe it! And these kids...oh my goodness, they actually do what I say. It is a miracle! I can't even believe it. I mean you get the eye rolls, the sighs, and the looks of pure disgust, but the kids don't bang themselves into the walls! They don't talk back to everything I say to them, no one has told me not to touch them cause they "don't like White women," and I haven't called security on any student because...oh wait! They don't even have it! I have definitely entered another dimension. Is this teaching? Is this why people stay teaching because they have kids like this? I am going to say yes. The strange thing about it all is how the teacher's view me because I have taught in DC. These teachers that have taught for decades all came to my room to meet me (or gauk at me, I am not sure which) and hear me tell stories of DC. They stood there in amazement. It was strange listening to the other teachers talk about how they heard our principal rave about me before I had even gotten there. He was very cautious about hiring someone over the phone, so he talked to basically every mentor teacher, supervisor, liason, and professor I'd had contact with in the education department. When he called to offer me the job, he commended me for the "reputation" I had established. I didn't quite know what to say. And I guess he was just so excited he told the whole staff. I think it is strange for people to decide someone is great after never seeing them teach. But I chose the school over the others because he was so excited about me, it was so close, and I felt the most comfortable talking to him. Although, I am afraid for the sudden disappointment he will get after observing me "in action." He will randomly peak his head in my room to say hi while I'm teaching, but I just get so nervous when he does. Today it was even more strange because another principal that had offered me a job stopped by just to see me in person. When they both entered my classroom, I didn't know what to do with myself. I don't like feeling like an exhibition, especially when you don't feel like you are one that anyone would be interested in coming to see. It's all fine thought, but I miss my kids in DC. These kids are great kids, but I loved my kids in DC. I never loved a class that much. I loved them despite all the things they did or said, and I just miss them. These kids don't really need me. Not really. I keep telling my parents that I could just stay home and they'd be fine. I realized that I missed them even more after I was talking to Bridget and she burst out laughing after I said, "Well, what had happened was..." She said that I really had taught in DC cause I was talking like the kids. I don't think that's supposed to happen ha ha. I miss kids telling me that someone is "joning on them." I miss the random dancing outbursts of "Soulja boy" in the hallway. I miss Michael and Ronyae. I miss kids that hugged me and wouldn't let go. Oh goodness...it's okay though. This is fine for now. I am having fun, but there is just so much to do always! Always! Always! Jenny, it never ends does it? Bleh...who knew a career choice meant a life commitment. Bleh, bleh, bleh. I just have a question for you Jenny - how can you grade all those papers all the time? Yuck! I was talking to another teacher at the school and telling her how Natalie said I was a fool to go into elementary education, but I think elementary isn't the hardest. They are all hard. When I think about having to read all those essays, I realize that is definitely not something I could do. Way to read those papers Jenny! You go on and read those papers! Ha ha ha ha. That's what Autumn, my mentor teacher would always say. Ahh, Autumn. People keep asking me how it was, but I hate telling them. I don't do it justice because it's just so hard to explain all that happened everyday. I loved Amidon's song the kids would always sing. Sometimes I catch myself just singing, "Oh Amidon! We can make the world a better place, Oh thank you Amidon..." I think my favorite was the following motto they'd recite every morning: "I am somebody. I am somebody. I can do anything. I can do everything that I put my thoughts and actions towards because I am somebody." It was of course written by Mr. T, ha ha ha. Isn't that so great? So funny. I wish you could've heard how they said it. So great! But it's time to move on I guess to Utah. Not what I thought, but it will be a new adventure I suppose in its own way. I love and miss you all. Now that I am back though I am a lot closer to all the white mothers...