oy vey

I am so overstimulated at this point.

I feel like I am a ride operator at an amusement park - the only ride operator for all the rides. There's so much on my mind, that I really don't know where to begin.

The critiques were difficult. I jumped into a discussion about the art works without setting a model for the students to follow. I assumed they could follow along.

In regards to the new project: I received complaints about the amount of 'paperwork' - meaning 2 articles to read and respond to - that they now have to do.
"Ms. So and So never made us do this" ...I'm not sure, I think that may have embarrassed us both. It sure didn't help morale.
I wasn't expecting some silly response of "oh boy, I sure do love the amount of reading you give us, Ms, B", but it still just kills ya a little inside to have worked on a lesson so hard, and have it met with resistance even in the begining steps.

Later in the day, a light-hearted conversation turned in to a sobering splash in the face - some of my students have been shot at. One students' brother was shot... on two seperate occasions. The brother was not in a gang, or doing anything to provoke a bullet graze to the head, and later a fingernail melting off when a seperate attack landed a round on his finger. This isn't my first experience with guns, gunfire, murder, gang violence, whatever. I'm not some naive PollyAnna who can't see past my own porch. I know that many of my students use drugs, some probably sell them, many are affiliated with gangs, some want to be, some have children older than my own 17-month-old, etc. It's just maddening that these issues are a part of our life. Though they are nearly old enough to vote, the students are still children. Some of these children are making very adult decisions about how they live their lives, without having the cognitive capacity to weigh possible consequences.

"sometimes showing up is half of the battle." No kidding. I've taken for granted the success and amount of luck and effort the students have to make just to get to school sometimes. They don't believe me when I tell them I'm happy to see them at the beginning of the period.

I get teased and corrected for using the word "please".

Oh boy - when did I become such a 'professional' and an 'ADULT'??

Some of my successes:
One of my special needs students (who doesn't speak with anyone) talks with me. He's doing great in the project, even though he may need explicit step-by-step - AND 'only one step at a time' instructions. I can do that. I need to do more of that with the rest of the class anyway.

The student I pulled aside and conferenced with is talking to me about his life, his issues with other instructors, etc. He sent me a Lolly-pop Valentine for Valentine's Day. He's brilliant, but just doesn't have full reign over his emotions yet - sometimes his mouth acts before consulting with his brain. Sometimes, I can relate.

I fixed the sink, and cleaned it to a shine. It has stayed clean all day since then - and not for lack of use, and not because I yelled. I didn't have to.

I repaired a sewing machine so that the Master Teacher could use it in her classes.

I talked about cars, college, and life with a student of my Master Teacher, and she asked me to teach a special technique to another very 'at-risk' student in her class. We seem to have made a connection.

This weekend brings another three-day weekend. Thank all that is good and wherever it comes from for that. It feels like my paperwork mountain has fought back, and has tripled in size. It will not win. I will defeat it.

I'm having a ton of epiphanies, and having all sorts of ideas for my own classroom (should I ever become employed doing this sort of thing). The sparks are flying, but the smell of my own brain on fire is telling me to shut down for tonight, and power up again tomorrow.