Last time I posted, I was only thinking about retirement. Now, I have experienced my first year of retirement.
Leading up to retirement was kind of like being in a fantasy: I will sleep late! I will finally get to those closets! I will travel! I will read! I will binge-watch all the shows I wanted to watch before! And, my favorite: I will stay up late!!!
Then, reality hit. I have been a schedule-oriented person for the past 26 years. The routine, the students, the teachers, the school climate were a part of me, and retirement was more difficult than I anticipated (except for the staying up late - love that!).
The first few months felt like summer. I didn't feel any different. The first days of school workshops, I went to NYC and felt like I was playing hooky. The first day of school was a big production. I had on my new "retirement jammies" that stated: "I can't adult today (tomorrow doesn't look good either). I had my new coffee mug, a retirement gift from a friend, that read: "The Adventure BEGINS!" Pictures were taken and posted to social media and my husband and family were off to spend a long weekend on the lake.
I did miss lugging in my bags into the classroom and getting things in place. I missed seeing my teacher friends. I missed the happy feeling the school halls instilled. I missed smiling at the students in the hall and saying, "Hi!" to my previous students.
I didn't miss the first two days of school which, because our school is on the 8 block system, consisted of two full days of going over the rules and ice-breakers. Teachers are actors! We look excited when we are, in fact, feeling bad for our students while going through the necessities.
After this initial time period, I felt lost. I didn't know what to do with myself and because of that, I was fighting depression. I refused to give in. I went for nature walks, I went to the mall and walked - yes, I had decided mall walking wasn't so bad -I had lunch with retired teacher friends who told me 1) "You're crazy. I didn't miss a step once I left the school building," or 2) "You will grow into it."
By October, I was still having some issues. I placed my resume on Indeed. Guess what??? Resumes aren't what they were 27 years ago. I am an English teacher and writer, and I thought I could BS my way through anything. I found I really didn't have the words to build myself up to look good on the resume. My daughter told me what I was doing wrong, but I didn't care.
Finally, I decided to go back to my roots. I headed to our community college, talked to the English Department Head and asked for an adjunct job. I didn't even have to fill out an application. It was mine. The only thing was I had waited too long. The Spring Semester was full, so I would have to wait for the Fall Semester. Okay, I am good with that.
In January, I started subbing in my old high school. I really enjoyed it. I didn't have to make the plans or the rules. I would step in and interact with the kids and teach the lesson and leave with no responsibilities. Also, because I joined "Jobulator," I would get a job alert on the app and could accept or decline. Woo Hoo!! Much easier than in the old days when the principal would call at 5:30 a.m. It was easier to choose to accept/decline on an app than to talk to the person on the phone when I didn't want to go in but felt I couldn't turn down the job. With retirement, I can choose, and I like that.
In the meantime, I was trying to get ready for my new English instructor job. I enjoyed the planning but felt I didn't have much direction. Teachers like feeling in control and knowing what is expected, but I wasn't feeling that way. Maybe because of the newness.
Anyway, in June, a little over a year of retirement, for no explainable reason, I called a real estate school to ask about classes. Seemingly off-topic, I had also just gotten an 8 week old, miniature Dachshund that I was not planning on leaving home alone. I wanted to know about online classes. The lady said, "You do NOT want to take this class online." I told her my situation with my puppy, and she said, "Bring him. We've had puppies in class before." WHAT??? Okay. So my puppy and I went to Real Estate School. One week of class (my puppy slept most of the time and was the class mascot -ha) and two additional weeks of 8-12 hour days of study time and I passed the test the first time. Hardest test of my life! I kid you not!!
Today, I am working hard to stay caught up with what my two classes need, but I am enjoying the research and planning and the two days a week. My real estate license has not been used, yet, but once I am settled and comfortable with my college classes, I will pursue it more, which is scary and exciting.
My true love is education. Teaching in a community college is much better for me. The students want to be there (for the most part). The choices are theirs as adults, and I like giving up that responsibility.
The first year of retirement was rough for me. I had to do something, so I searched until I found a place I thought I could find fulfillment. I was not able to go Cold Turkey, like some. I will say it has been an adventure, but I did have to continue to "adult."
Thanks for hanging with me this far. I do hope to get back into writing. Hopefully, it won't be so long between posts.
Thursday, October 3, 2019
Monday, February 15, 2016
School Climate Has Changed - Elementary Days
I teach in my hometown. Some might think that is a mistake. Get out, experience the world, see other educational environments, etc., etc. I have no regrets and have witnessed changes in school climate.
When I was in elementary school, I thought all schools were the same as mine. There were 4 classes for every grade, and everyone knew everyone. If someone new moved in, it was exciting. It was also rare in the 1970's. There was not much diversity in my little hometown. The main diversity was in socioeconomics. If someone lived in a house with more than one bathroom, a finished basement, and a two car garage, that person was rich.
The principal's office was a scary place, and he had a paddle that hung on the wall. He didn't have to call parents for permission to use it. Fortunately, and not because I didn't deserve it, I never had the paddle used on me. Whew!
We had wooden seats for our swings, none of those rubber seated swings that squeezed you. We used to have contests to see how far we could jump out of them. No teacher ever made us stop.
We had merry-go-rounds that we purposely pushed to go around so fast to challenge the bravest to hang on, and some failed. No teacher ever made us stop.
We had monkey bars that seemed to reach the sky - everything looks so tall when you are little. We would swing from bar to bar and sit at the very top. We would sit on the bars then drop to hang upside down from our knees. No teacher ever made us stop.
We had teeter-totters, and the funnest time making the other person's bottom fly up in the air as we dropped to the ground with a jolt. No teacher ever made us stop.
We played dodge ball, kick ball and baseball, and Red Rover. The rougher the better. We played cops and robbers, cowboys and Indians, and my favorite, Star Trek (our pretend phazers were rarely set on "stun.") No teacher ever made us stop.
We had fun and knew the "dangers." We got scrapped knees and bruises, but had been taught common sense. We were tough. This is a funny statement coming from me because I was always the smallest in the class, but I had that "small person syndrome" that caused me, not always with the most logical reasoning, to take a dare no matter the personal fear or hazard.
Sometimes fights would break out on the playground. A teacher would step in and take the two brawlers by the ears and take them inside to write one hundred times, "I will not fight on the playground." The two offenders were playing together the next day. We were taught to never throw the first punch, but to finish the fight. I was a runt, and I felt I had to stand strong or be trampled and never given any respect. If I went home to complain, my mother told me to hold my high and to handle it myself. Self-respect, self-control, and self-confidence bloomed from any tough times. She never stepped in to fight my fights or to soften the consequences of my own making. In fact, if I was in trouble at school, I was in trouble at home... no ifs, ands, or buts. That is what kept most of us out of trouble. Fearful respect of our parents kept us in line.
We walked home from school, rode the bus to our friends' houses, and took rides from other parents or older siblings. We didn't have to have a signed permission slip from our parents on record in the office.
If we got hurt at school, it was our job to go home to tell our parents about it, and the parents' job to ask. We never heard of a lawsuit against the school.
Some of these things have been turned into over-exaggerated silliness that have created an atmosphere of fear. Fear of what? Not a scraped knee or a black eye, but of parents who will sue. There is also a fear of hurting a child's psyche if a "situation" is handled too harshly.
We didn't even think about our "rights" as little kids. We were just kids, and the school and our parents let us be kids. Today's kids have so many pressures, and do not always get to be just a kid. Sad. There is a culture of victims rising up that creates havoc for the majority. Sad.
Today is very different. Trust is out the window. The school system has had to change to protect our children. Most changes are out of necessity because of the society we live in, but some are ridiculous. A little boy cannot even create an imaginary gun with his fingers today. We hear news stories of kids being suspended for such a minor offense - for being a kid with an imagination.
Article: Elementary School Discipline Goes too Far
When I was in elementary school, I thought all schools were the same as mine. There were 4 classes for every grade, and everyone knew everyone. If someone new moved in, it was exciting. It was also rare in the 1970's. There was not much diversity in my little hometown. The main diversity was in socioeconomics. If someone lived in a house with more than one bathroom, a finished basement, and a two car garage, that person was rich.
The principal's office was a scary place, and he had a paddle that hung on the wall. He didn't have to call parents for permission to use it. Fortunately, and not because I didn't deserve it, I never had the paddle used on me. Whew!
We had wooden seats for our swings, none of those rubber seated swings that squeezed you. We used to have contests to see how far we could jump out of them. No teacher ever made us stop.
We had merry-go-rounds that we purposely pushed to go around so fast to challenge the bravest to hang on, and some failed. No teacher ever made us stop.
We had monkey bars that seemed to reach the sky - everything looks so tall when you are little. We would swing from bar to bar and sit at the very top. We would sit on the bars then drop to hang upside down from our knees. No teacher ever made us stop.
We had teeter-totters, and the funnest time making the other person's bottom fly up in the air as we dropped to the ground with a jolt. No teacher ever made us stop.
We played dodge ball, kick ball and baseball, and Red Rover. The rougher the better. We played cops and robbers, cowboys and Indians, and my favorite, Star Trek (our pretend phazers were rarely set on "stun.") No teacher ever made us stop.
We had fun and knew the "dangers." We got scrapped knees and bruises, but had been taught common sense. We were tough. This is a funny statement coming from me because I was always the smallest in the class, but I had that "small person syndrome" that caused me, not always with the most logical reasoning, to take a dare no matter the personal fear or hazard.
Sometimes fights would break out on the playground. A teacher would step in and take the two brawlers by the ears and take them inside to write one hundred times, "I will not fight on the playground." The two offenders were playing together the next day. We were taught to never throw the first punch, but to finish the fight. I was a runt, and I felt I had to stand strong or be trampled and never given any respect. If I went home to complain, my mother told me to hold my high and to handle it myself. Self-respect, self-control, and self-confidence bloomed from any tough times. She never stepped in to fight my fights or to soften the consequences of my own making. In fact, if I was in trouble at school, I was in trouble at home... no ifs, ands, or buts. That is what kept most of us out of trouble. Fearful respect of our parents kept us in line.
We walked home from school, rode the bus to our friends' houses, and took rides from other parents or older siblings. We didn't have to have a signed permission slip from our parents on record in the office.
If we got hurt at school, it was our job to go home to tell our parents about it, and the parents' job to ask. We never heard of a lawsuit against the school.
Some of these things have been turned into over-exaggerated silliness that have created an atmosphere of fear. Fear of what? Not a scraped knee or a black eye, but of parents who will sue. There is also a fear of hurting a child's psyche if a "situation" is handled too harshly.
We didn't even think about our "rights" as little kids. We were just kids, and the school and our parents let us be kids. Today's kids have so many pressures, and do not always get to be just a kid. Sad. There is a culture of victims rising up that creates havoc for the majority. Sad.
Today is very different. Trust is out the window. The school system has had to change to protect our children. Most changes are out of necessity because of the society we live in, but some are ridiculous. A little boy cannot even create an imaginary gun with his fingers today. We hear news stories of kids being suspended for such a minor offense - for being a kid with an imagination.
Article: Elementary School Discipline Goes too Far
Sunday, February 14, 2016
Thinking about Retirement
Retiring is a big deal. It is the end of an era. It is the end of a career. It is a sign of accomplishment. It is difficult...
I am still a couple of years away from retiring as a high school English teacher. I am starting this blog to share my thoughts about my career and my possible upcoming retirement. Please feel free to add your comments and experiences.
I know many teachers who have gone to and over 30 years. Right now, I just don't think I can do it. I may change my mind, but as of now, I am thinking it is my time to leave. I want to discuss these reasons in more depth and hear from others who feel the same. I almost feel like a traitor to education by thinking about retirement.
I have so many mixed emotions. Everyone expects teachers to talk about the love of the job for the sake of the job, and I do - I mean, why would someone stay so long in a career working with teenagers if not for the love of it. I have seen people go through college, begin their student teaching, and quit before finishing. I have seen people leave after one quarter. I wish those people well because they realized early that they were not cut out for teaching. You have to KNOW. I have always known that I loved working with kids. I guess that is why I feel guilty about wanting to retiring.
Yes, I say "want" to retire. I hope to dig deeper into that component later.
This is where I leave you.
I am still a couple of years away from retiring as a high school English teacher. I am starting this blog to share my thoughts about my career and my possible upcoming retirement. Please feel free to add your comments and experiences.
I know many teachers who have gone to and over 30 years. Right now, I just don't think I can do it. I may change my mind, but as of now, I am thinking it is my time to leave. I want to discuss these reasons in more depth and hear from others who feel the same. I almost feel like a traitor to education by thinking about retirement.
I have so many mixed emotions. Everyone expects teachers to talk about the love of the job for the sake of the job, and I do - I mean, why would someone stay so long in a career working with teenagers if not for the love of it. I have seen people go through college, begin their student teaching, and quit before finishing. I have seen people leave after one quarter. I wish those people well because they realized early that they were not cut out for teaching. You have to KNOW. I have always known that I loved working with kids. I guess that is why I feel guilty about wanting to retiring.
Yes, I say "want" to retire. I hope to dig deeper into that component later.
This is where I leave you.
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