(Anne and Tasia at a sleepover)
Imagine scene: Me (worst athlete on the planet) teaching alt. kids (also worst athletes on the planet) to workout.
I will pause while you laugh.
The Principal came in to make sure I was fine, then the vice principal, then the other P.E. teacher, then the science teacher. The secretary chatted with me while I ate my lunch--an end of home-made bread with baby bells and an orange. The building was brand new and there were floor to ceiling windows in every room. It was such a nice school. The kids were nice too. So polite! They walked me to the main office, helped me figure out the music console, went along with my completely stupid and embarrassing workout...
Before I left I told the vice-principal that I want a job at her school. She was excited about the prospect of hiring me (despite the fact that I had taco shell shaped armpit sweat and greasy hair). We talked for a little while about the school. I have had many promising interviews with principals, all of which for one reason or another have not resulted in a job. I am reluctant to get excited. Also, this school has a catch; a later start time (good), and a later end time (bad). So maybe this isn't the one either. But I liked being in that place. I liked those kids with their F words and gages and pregnant bellies and face piercings.
4 comments:
You are so brave, and I love hearing about your teaching experiences. I hope a job comes along soon. Love you!
Where was this school?
Halarious, work there so you can blog about it more. It would be great!
You may want to listen to the slam poet Taylor Mali read "What Teachers Make." Maybe you've heard of him? He's a high school English teacher in Harlem, and every time I hear this poem, I get goosebumps.
I must warn you that the poem contains a few swears.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RxsOVK4syxU&feature=player_embedded
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