I'm having a rough day, educationally speaking.
For one, I'm having trouble understanding the way kids see things. Or don't see. It's lunchtime, they're sitting at the computers, or studying in the other-room part of the library, and they're eating. Snacks, lunch, drinks, whatever. Now it's not as if there aren't signs up at the door that say
NO EATING!
NO DRINKING!
IN THE LIBRARY!
PLEASE!
I mean, could it be clearer than that? Why would someone sit at a public computer and eat or drink? The girl in the other room was eating a sandwich! When I ask them to put the food away, or not to drink at the computers, they're very very nice, say "Oh, sorry!" and put it right away, but come on! Why should I have to tell everyone individually? I don't want to be an icky nag.
And now that I've ranted, let me say it isn't just kids, not at all, because yesterday, one of the younger in-her-own-world teachers was sitting at a computer in here and guzzling from a giant water bottle. So really, how could I expect the kids to know any different?
And that's what it is, it's not knowing any different. The lines between home and public places has become incredibly blurred in recent years, hasn't it? Kids come to school in pajamas, after all, pajama pants, boys and girls. Underwear is showing all over the place. The Colleague said to me before, it's a matter of respect, they lack respect. But I don't think it's that at all. I think they would respect standards if they knew they existed, understood what they were. They are polite, after all; the kids in my school are still nice kids, nice people. But standards are so relaxed for them everywhere, people all around them are seeing traffic signs and still doing whatever they want. How would they know, really, that when I posted these NO EATING! signs, I meant it? That these are signs I would actually like them to obey?
And on another note, we had another retirement announced today -- teachers in my district are required to put in their papers by January 31, or they forfeit a chunk of terminal leave pay when they go -- and it's very close to home. The elder statesman of the guidance department is leaving. He was my guidance counselor in high school, his very first year. So we go way back, he and I. In fact, as I've told him, I remember a day in high school when I had an appointment with him and came in to see his office dark, and I was annoyed because he was out until I saw the sign on the door "It's a boy!" Well, he reminds me every year now on his son's birthday, and tells me how old he is. I guess he's about 34 now. So I'll miss him a lot; he was my kids' counselor too, and he practically held my hand daily through K's year-and-a-half illness. This is a tough one.
But the truly toughest one is on the horizon. Chum, my dearest Chum, is suddenly thinking that she may retire this year instead of next. She's even willing to forego terminal leave; if they make an anticipated change in the pension system, she's out this year. She says she feels terrible about leaving me here, and I said that I wouldn't be anything but happy for her if she goes, because I know this place is making her miserable. I will be very very happy for her. But it will be very peculiar here without her. It will be a completely different place for me. It was terrible for the two of us when E, our third musketeer, retired a few years ago. So I'm not looking forward to that, although I will be happy for her.
Today's report from the world of assistive listening devices:
When I went to wish the departing guidance counselor well, and we hugged, he was saying something while we were hugging, and I could hear him! This has been an odd problem for me since the hearing loss, that I can't hear what people are saying right into my deaf ear when I'm hugging them. But I could hear every word, clear! In addition to all the bells and whistles I've got now, I think this is also just the best transmitter I've ever worn.
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I'm watching Seinfeld
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