And She Speaks.
10:55 a.m. - 2004-10-23

I�m being forced to write this entry in MS Word, because something is either wrong with my computer, or Diaryland absolutely hates my guts. I�ve been trying to write an entry for the past two days, and every time I get halfway through, my internet server shuts down. It�s pissing me off to the extreme, especially since this computer is pretty new, and shouldn�t be acting this way. A call to my technology guy is going to have to be made very soon, which will inevitably end up costing me a bundle (regardless of the fact that he�s a friend of mine, because sometimes even friends won�t work for free).

Yesterday was Parent-Teacher Conference, and it went really well, despite the fact that half the parents didn�t show up at their scheduled time. I walked into my room at 7:10, and the first mom showed up five minutes later.

First grade didn�t give actual letter grades (or even S�s, N�s, or U�s) this nine weeks. Instead, we wrote �READINESS� across an otherwise blank report card, regardless of whether the child in question was actually �ready� or not. I�d questioned the vice-principal the day before on the logic of doing that, and he told me that if they had passed kindergarten, then they were obviously ready for first grade. The answer irked me, because I have at least five students who aren�t ready, and should never have been promoted. If a kid can�t spell his own name or doesn�t know what sound B makes, then he has no business being in a classroom full of kids who are already learning to read.

In Bush�s effort to make sure that No Child is Left Behind, he�s doing a damn fine job of losing them. Add that to the plethora of reasons that the moron won�t be getting my vote this year. Kerry�s not that impressive, but I�m determined to do my part in getting the Shrub out of office. Hell, they�re even giving us November 2nd off of work, so you can be damn sure I�ll be down at the polls.

Anyway, back to the conferences. I was nice to the people who showed up, but I was brutally honest. This first nine weeks has been easy, but they�d better make damn sure that their kids start buckling down. I told a few parents flat-out that their children shouldn�t have made it out of kindergarten, and I have five sets of paperwork in my car waiting to be filled out on those who need to be in Resource classes. I have a handful of exceptionally bright kids, and it�s not fair for them to suffer because I�m being forced to repeat the same shit over and over again for those five that just can�t get it. It�s my job to make sure these babies are on reading level by the end of the year, and there�s no way I�ll be able to accomplish that if I spend 75% of my time reviewing stuff that the rest of the class already knows. I hope to have most of the referrals completed by Monday, and that will get the process started for the kids who need extra help.

The behavioral problems aren�t nearly as bad (for me) this year, but I�m still spending a good chunk of the day disciplining kids. It�s frustrating, because there�s SO much that they have to learn, and having to interrupt lessons to deal with unruly children throws everything out of whack.

On a brighter note, I had two parents that actually broke down in tears while they were talking to me. They were amazed that their kids are already reading. It made me feel really good, and reminded me that while I bitch and complain about the excessive amount of work that I have to do, I�m happy with my job. I�m making a difference, and I�m proud of that. Even though I sometimes have really bad days that make me question my career choice, I don�t think I�d feel the same sense of accomplishment if I were stuck behind a desk all day.

My mom�s birthday was also yesterday, so I rushed home to get her a couple of small presents and a card. She liked the things that I bought, but I have a feeling that me coming to visit made her happier than anything else. I�ve been so busy lately that I haven�t had a chance to go over there as often as I�d like, and it was obvious that she�s been missing me. We talk at least every other day, but it�s not the same as getting to see her. She�s leaving in a couple of weeks for her annual month in Florida (Panama City this time, since Navarre was completely devastated by the hurricane), and I�m very much looking forward to spending the week of Thanksgiving there.

It�s nearly 11 o�clock already, and I have absolutely no idea what I�m going to do with the rest of my day. For the first time since school began, I didn�t bring home a crate full of stuff to do, and it feels kind of weird. I�m glad, though, because I finally feel like I can enjoy my weekend without having to worry about things that I need to get done. There�s plenty of housework that needs completing, but it can wait. I think that I�m just going to relax, and that�s something that I haven�t been able to do in a very, very long time.

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I am: so very many things. A mother, a wife, a dreamer, a lover of animals and babies, a friend. I've been called a bitch, but if that's what you call someone who stands up for what they believe in and refuses to settle, then I guess the title fits.

loves: my family, horses, a full night's sleep, puppy breath, my daughter's laughter, thunderstorms, bubble baths, makeup, soft sheets, David Sedaris and Augusten Burroughs, wine, massages, the written word, and sour straws.

dislikes: closed minds, depression, pimples, extreme heat, math, panic attacks, black licorice, doing laundry, white chocolate, gin, Bush.

feeling:
hopeful