I have survived the first six weeks of school and the first grading cycle. I have entered my grades, comments and conduct reports. I signed ten pages worth of attendance records and figured out seven different ways to punt when none of the things I needed to fulfill my pre-approved plans arrived.
I am tired.
After grading tests, I discovered that most of my sixth graders think Aristotle is the House Manager. All of them knew “A House divided against cannot stand.” I guess success is not absolute.
My students all know the basics of improvisation and have introduced characters such as Tyrone, who is always calling people he shouldn’t at inconvenient times. Also featured was the six foot tall chortling fish who is, apparently, immortal. I have received ten unsolicited hugs, a few drawings for my filing cabinets, and a precious, unexpected and very real smile from one of my tough guys.
The ROTC sponsor calls me “Drama Mama”
My feet hurt in such a way that I now know the meaning of the phrase, “My dogs are barking.” I have a meeting every afternoon for the rest of the week.
I also got a surprise text from a kid I taught six years ago.
He said, “You’re the best teacher I ever had and the best director I have every worked with.” I thanked him and said his words were helping me get through a challenging day. He sent back:
“You got this.”
I think I do.
Onward into the next six weeks.