I officially survived the first day of student teaching at West Minico in Paul, Idaho. Luckily there’s only 11 weeks and 4 days left. I’m back to living in junior high where the grease almost visibly drips off the students’ faces. Their glasses are covered with soot. No one showers. No one washes their faces, but every day, they put more goop in their hair and more make-up on their faces. The girls wear their clothes too tight, their hair too big, their make-up too thick. The boys wear their clothes too big, their pants too low, their hair too long. It’s junior high…just how I remembered it.
We had too-mashed potatoes with clumpy turkey gravy for lunch today. The milk was warm and I had to plug my nose to swallow it down without tasting it. Then my milk fell into my clumpy gravy and squished my potatoes all over my tray. It was as if I never left that junior high realm. I felt as clumsy in those halls today as I did when I was 12. The only difference is that now, I’m trying to fit in by pretending to look and act like a teacher rather than pretending to look and act like a student.
As I pushed my cold corn around my tray, listening to the other faculty members talk about how many points each portion of their meal was according to their new weight watchers program, I wondered—what will happen to me in 11 weeks and 4 days when I finish my student teaching? Will I come back to the public school system forever? Will I really be eating soggy potatoes with clumpy gravy until I retire? Sigh. No sense in worrying about it now.
11 comments:
Man, oh man. Good luck. I hate cafeteria food. Lunchables? I hope you find something you love there, and I'm glad you landed a position somewhere. Nice writing.
Wow empo, that is some scary stuff. I've never been to your junior high, but that left me reliving my own nightmares of high school. I'm glad you're teaching though, there were rumors that you didn't have anything going again and there were threats of violent uprisings on your behalf. Good luck! I have faith in my "master". :p
Oh, dear, dear Emily. I can relate. Although I eat elementary cafeteria food day after day. But, same difference, only smaller portions.
But I have decided, for myself, (and in case you didn't gather from the three volume novel a couple of posts down) that I will not be returning to the public school system. At least, I hope not. Don't be afraid to admit that it may not be for you either. If that's the case, you and I can backpack across Europe together, seeking out what it is that we are really suppose to do with our lives. (Don't worry, David will be studying for the boards and probably won't even notice I'm gone for a few months). If it is for you, then you are a stronger person than I, and I respect you for it.
You know, you can email me and we can commiserate together. Juliembaird@gmail.com.
Ha ha, I never went to junior high. I can identify with the clumsy part though.
I was running out the door this morning and didn’t bring as many snacks to school with me as I usually do. I was so hungry when I remembered I had a delicious apple in an old lunch bag in the fridge at work! So I’m walking to a table holding this old brown bag, I trip over my own feet, and the apple jumps (I swear, jumps) out of my bag and plops through a little round hole in the top of a trash can for recycling soda pop cans.
I can’t dig it out, because the trash can is in a very public place. I want to though, because there is nothing else in the trash can but my apple. But I can’t dig it out, because people will think I’m a starving pregnant lady digging through the trash and call my bishop. But I want to because I’m starving and the baby’s kicking me in disapproval.
Perhaps if I grow desperate enough as the day goes on...I get to go home at five.
Thanks for your support, guys. It's nice to know that I'm not alone in hating school food. Yesterday I took a cold lunch to school. I got to put my food in the fridge with all the Weight Watcher women. It tasted much better than the previous day's mess.
And Anona...you didn't go to junior high? Did you home school? And congrats on the little girl.
Ahhh, it's such a pleasure to read such good writing. The image of Anona losing her apple was hilarious because it goes against her cool, cool image. LOL. And EmPo, get out of public teaching like Julie did, because, Girl, you are one heck of a writer. We sat with you, listening to the calorie counters and visulized them and you, with your head down ect. So much sight, texture, etc. Top writing--TOP. Go get an MFA. You are a WRITER--with inate talent given by God. It's there, and some would give prize pet lions for that gift. Why squander it on a wasteland--not that those kids are bad; they're just not there mentally. Only their bodies sit in front of you at this point in their searching for acceptance, approval, etc. Come to Europe with us. We'll rent a villa in Tuscany to write our novels, essays, etc. This is why I gave Anona the book, so she can yearn to go with us until it really happens.
By the way, I really liked the book, Sis. Morgan. I slowly digested it over a week of Christmas break as my way of destressing. I liked that it's a book you don't have to read in one sitting or continuously to have it make an impact or make sense.
Empo, I was homeschooled. (This means I avoided a lot of problems but ended up with issues.)
Speaking of issues, the girl name Austin likes (Samantha) and the one I like (Sophy) are both on the SSA's top 10 most popular list. What's with that?
What's "the book" everyone keeps talking about? And am I showing my ignorance further by asking what the SSA is?
Julie, the book to which Anona refers is the book of life, from which we will all be judged. Sis. Morgan found one at DI a while back and loaned it to Anona.
Chan is such a bigfatliar. Or rather he reaches up into the sky and pulls down some nonsense answer that always makes me laugh. But you won't believe what the book is—Under the Tuscan Sun. Really. Honest. I think it's an important book (though it's mostly about food--unlike movie--and not a great read, just relaxing) to prepare us for our future break to Europe. As you can tell, I'm campaigning early for Italy.
I don't know what the SSA is either. Must be some new BYU slang Anona picked up while digging around in their garbage cans. Doesn't she worry you sometimes? I wrote Hyrum to tell him she's naming the babe "Pickle," hoping to pull a smile as he sits in a wasteland worse than the moon's arid surface.
For clarification, its the Social Security Administration.
Sister Morgan at least should know this, as she's the only one of us who will be benefiting from it one day.
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