Today, for the first time, it occurred to me that things will get better.
I panicked a bit once the reality of what this job entails set in. I get up at 5am, generally fall asleep around 8 or 9pm, and have no time or energy for exercise, cooking or friends. The few times I’ve dragged myself out to do things, I wake up the next morning feeling like I’ve been hit by a truck.
But I JUST STARTED. It hasn’t even been three weeks. I am literally brand new at this, I’ve been sick 2/3 of the time I’ve been at the job, and there’ve been lots of curriculum nights and book fair and faculty meetings and conference days. Why do babies pass out all the time? Because new stuff is EXHAUSTING.
I will get better at this. I am a new teacher. I am literally as bad at teaching as I will ever be. It will get better. It won’t always take me several hours to write my lesson plans for a day.
I don’t know anybody yet – Those scattered moments when I can peek my head out of the library and socialize will add up, and eventually I will have relationships leading to meaningful collaborations!
I won’t always be commuting. I didn’t plan to move for this job, but now that I have nothing tying me to the west of Syracuse, it makes sense to move. I will have the opportunity to choose a new home and a cat.
Eventually, it will be summer. I keep forgetting about this. The past five years have been such a continual climb, with each accomplishment flinging me forward into even more responsibility, that I forgot that there will be a period of rest.
None of this is to say that things are going badly, exactly. Just that I feel badly about how things are going, maybe? I have good classes, and I have classes where the kids don’t listen to a thing I say. Last week was pretty disorganized because of the book fair. This week I’ll get a better sense of how much, if anything, the kids absorbed from our lessons.