Last Friday marked the end of Trimester 2 at school and I have to admit I was thankful to say goodbye to it! The last week was very hectic with students turning in missing assignments all the way back from January. In a way it almost reminded me of finals week in college. I felt stressed, not for myself passing, but for my students passing! Unfortunately, many of them did not, especially 5th period. I never thought I would see a day when more of my students failed than passed, but it happened. About 5 out of 20 passed.
Monday begins Trimester 3 with 13 weeks and 64 days left of school. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. As my contract comes up for renewal mid-April I find myself at a loss for what to do. They say the first three years are the hardest, but I don't know if I can make it more than three trimesters. I find myself possibly becoming a statistic. I feel like a failure or quitter. Perhaps I should persevere, after all, I did go to school for 4 years and pay thousands of dollars to become licensed. I feel guilty for giving up on such a high calling. I mean, what could possibly be more purposeful than investing in young people's lives? Yet, I'm worn out with the apathy, the disrespect, the mean tricks played to get my reaction, the guilt that is placed on me. I can't help the relief that floods my being and the hope that rises in my soul as I see the light coming at the end of this long tunnel.
From the Other Side of the Desk--a statistic in waiting . . . 64 days
Monday begins Trimester 3 with 13 weeks and 64 days left of school. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. As my contract comes up for renewal mid-April I find myself at a loss for what to do. They say the first three years are the hardest, but I don't know if I can make it more than three trimesters. I find myself possibly becoming a statistic. I feel like a failure or quitter. Perhaps I should persevere, after all, I did go to school for 4 years and pay thousands of dollars to become licensed. I feel guilty for giving up on such a high calling. I mean, what could possibly be more purposeful than investing in young people's lives? Yet, I'm worn out with the apathy, the disrespect, the mean tricks played to get my reaction, the guilt that is placed on me. I can't help the relief that floods my being and the hope that rises in my soul as I see the light coming at the end of this long tunnel.
From the Other Side of the Desk--a statistic in waiting . . . 64 days
