update
It's been almost a year, and so much has happened, and yet I haven't really written about any of it.
I stayed a year with Childhelp. It was amazing and insane and I learned a lot about children and crises and me and the rest of the world. I had a classroom of my own, which I managed to run. I revisited the fact that I do not, ever, under any circumstances, want to manage adults. It is not my forte, I do not like it, I did not sign up for it, and doing it or failing to do it (with my TA's) made me unhappy and stressed. I spent a little time with a lot of kids and a lot of time with a few kids. My R, my dear, sweet little R, who, if I won the lottery tomorrow, I would take home and take care of forever and teach what it feels like to be loved... I am scared for him. I don't know if he will ever find a family to adopt a ten year old with lead poisoning who is perpetually unable to focus long enough to even learn the letters of the alphabet. But he can hug and be observant and thoughtful and he longs for people's attention every day and he tries and tries despite how hard it must be to try, and despite all his hardships and the awful things people have done to him and as many times as he's been abandoned, he opened up and he loved me. Without reservation. I will miss him terribly and think about him every day.
And A, who has changed so much this year. She came in angry at the world and incapable of being rational and sure that everyone was out to get her, and shaky in school. She has learned to speak this year, make sounds she couldn't make before. She struggled through telling herself to say it right during every word, and now, after all this time, she sounds so good. She worked on being able to read, every day, and from a child who had trouble with three letter words, she reads books by herself. Most important of all, from a child who said "you hate me and you're going to leave me like everyone else did", she and I stuck together and were honest with each other and made promises to each other that we kept, and we worked through her angries and her tantrums and her moments of irrationality, and because she saw that I loved her anyway, she learned to love me back, and that adults could be okay. And she will be going to a foster home soon, and hopefully she will open up and let them love her. I have faith in her, she has become mature and smart, she will be okay. I will miss her terribly.
I will miss the children's smiles, their love of the animals, their hugs, their corny jokes, playing with them at play time, eating with them at lunch, watching them play after school, and the few moments where they come out of a crisis and let me hold their hand or hug them or wipe away their tears and actually talk to them. I will miss them waving at me and yelling hello and saying "watch me! watch this!". I will miss each and every one of these kids. Even my grumpy little W who drives me absolutely insane.
I will miss the sunrises over the fields here, I will miss the sound of laughter outside my classroom door after school, I will miss the horses and dogs and sheep and the cat, I will miss the deer on the entrance road, and driving through the village while it's still asleep. I will miss this classroom that I have worked so hard on, I will miss the few staff members that come in sometimes to talk to me, I will miss the others who I can tell love children no matter what.
The rest of it I will not miss one bit. I will not miss the adults who act like children. I will not miss watching children be handled and spoken to roughly for no reason. I will not miss the gossip and the drama and the lack of professionalism. I will not miss having a pessimistic boss who snaps at people, doesn't interact with the children, and finds fault with things instead of supporting the good things. I will not miss the movement of people in and out. I will not miss not knowing what has happened to a child that I watched, taught, nurtured, mothered, and loved for the better part of a year and never hear another thing about once they leave. I will not miss being ignored, used, walked on, and insulted. I will not miss the rest of this place.
I am headed for a job in the city of Fredericksburg. I have a class of moderately mentally retarded little ones. The principal says five or six kids, three are in wheelchairs and come with one-on-one aides. I am overwhelmed by the thought of learning a new set of rules and routines and schedules, figuring out who gets picked up by which therapist and when I'm supposed to do what and where things are and who to ask about what. I am excited and nervous about the thought of having parents to interact with. That will be a first for me. I am nervous about being gay and being a teacher and the various people that may have issues with that. I am excited about having structure, and support, and people that specialize in helping me with things (thank god- a reading specialist!). I am not looking forward to dressing like an uptight person every day like most of the world does. Oh well. I have two weeks of teacher work days before I get kids, so hopefully I'll be confident enough to fake confidence by the time they get there.
Anyways, I am still sitting at work (the old job) and am getting very hungry, I'll have to write about home and love in the next installment. As always, love to all.
-L
I stayed a year with Childhelp. It was amazing and insane and I learned a lot about children and crises and me and the rest of the world. I had a classroom of my own, which I managed to run. I revisited the fact that I do not, ever, under any circumstances, want to manage adults. It is not my forte, I do not like it, I did not sign up for it, and doing it or failing to do it (with my TA's) made me unhappy and stressed. I spent a little time with a lot of kids and a lot of time with a few kids. My R, my dear, sweet little R, who, if I won the lottery tomorrow, I would take home and take care of forever and teach what it feels like to be loved... I am scared for him. I don't know if he will ever find a family to adopt a ten year old with lead poisoning who is perpetually unable to focus long enough to even learn the letters of the alphabet. But he can hug and be observant and thoughtful and he longs for people's attention every day and he tries and tries despite how hard it must be to try, and despite all his hardships and the awful things people have done to him and as many times as he's been abandoned, he opened up and he loved me. Without reservation. I will miss him terribly and think about him every day.
And A, who has changed so much this year. She came in angry at the world and incapable of being rational and sure that everyone was out to get her, and shaky in school. She has learned to speak this year, make sounds she couldn't make before. She struggled through telling herself to say it right during every word, and now, after all this time, she sounds so good. She worked on being able to read, every day, and from a child who had trouble with three letter words, she reads books by herself. Most important of all, from a child who said "you hate me and you're going to leave me like everyone else did", she and I stuck together and were honest with each other and made promises to each other that we kept, and we worked through her angries and her tantrums and her moments of irrationality, and because she saw that I loved her anyway, she learned to love me back, and that adults could be okay. And she will be going to a foster home soon, and hopefully she will open up and let them love her. I have faith in her, she has become mature and smart, she will be okay. I will miss her terribly.
I will miss the children's smiles, their love of the animals, their hugs, their corny jokes, playing with them at play time, eating with them at lunch, watching them play after school, and the few moments where they come out of a crisis and let me hold their hand or hug them or wipe away their tears and actually talk to them. I will miss them waving at me and yelling hello and saying "watch me! watch this!". I will miss each and every one of these kids. Even my grumpy little W who drives me absolutely insane.
I will miss the sunrises over the fields here, I will miss the sound of laughter outside my classroom door after school, I will miss the horses and dogs and sheep and the cat, I will miss the deer on the entrance road, and driving through the village while it's still asleep. I will miss this classroom that I have worked so hard on, I will miss the few staff members that come in sometimes to talk to me, I will miss the others who I can tell love children no matter what.
The rest of it I will not miss one bit. I will not miss the adults who act like children. I will not miss watching children be handled and spoken to roughly for no reason. I will not miss the gossip and the drama and the lack of professionalism. I will not miss having a pessimistic boss who snaps at people, doesn't interact with the children, and finds fault with things instead of supporting the good things. I will not miss the movement of people in and out. I will not miss not knowing what has happened to a child that I watched, taught, nurtured, mothered, and loved for the better part of a year and never hear another thing about once they leave. I will not miss being ignored, used, walked on, and insulted. I will not miss the rest of this place.
I am headed for a job in the city of Fredericksburg. I have a class of moderately mentally retarded little ones. The principal says five or six kids, three are in wheelchairs and come with one-on-one aides. I am overwhelmed by the thought of learning a new set of rules and routines and schedules, figuring out who gets picked up by which therapist and when I'm supposed to do what and where things are and who to ask about what. I am excited and nervous about the thought of having parents to interact with. That will be a first for me. I am nervous about being gay and being a teacher and the various people that may have issues with that. I am excited about having structure, and support, and people that specialize in helping me with things (thank god- a reading specialist!). I am not looking forward to dressing like an uptight person every day like most of the world does. Oh well. I have two weeks of teacher work days before I get kids, so hopefully I'll be confident enough to fake confidence by the time they get there.
Anyways, I am still sitting at work (the old job) and am getting very hungry, I'll have to write about home and love in the next installment. As always, love to all.
-L