2023: My year in review, or why I am starting to sympathize with Mdme. Loisel

Note: Hey, whatever…just needed a place to track and store some of my intrusive and silly thoughts. I know others have it harder, I know the world is on fire and being emulsified with a mixture of gasoline and blood…I know. The specters of mortal sins rattle their chains on national media sources, and the clowns hit the applause sign for our cues.

And as I gazed into the abyss, I had a passing thought: why was it so horrible that Mdme. Loisel wanted one night of fun? To feel pretty, admired, and feel like she was part of another economic class? Because whew-howdy, did she ever get punished. I imagine her scrolling through her social media feeds, seeing the friends and families she loves going on amazing trips, curating lives and experiences that are out of reach for me, and coming to the depressing realization I can only blame myself. I lost the necklace.

“The girl was one of those pretty and charming young creatures who sometimes are born, as if by a slip of fate, into a family of clerks. She had no dowry, no expectations, no way of being known, understood, loved, married by any rich and distinguished man; so she let herself be married to a little clerk of the Ministry of Public Instruction.”

The Necklace by Guy de Maupassant

January:
- My husband picks me up from the airport after seeing my parents (my dad was in hospice at this point) and tells me he was just laid off.
February:
- I said something that triggered the trolls on Twitter and ended up leaving Twitter (after building a following of other teachers, writers, etc. since 2009), being doxxed, harassed, and given a document search request by said trolls.
- I turned 59 and had a fun “hobbit” themed party.
- My dad passed away at the end of the month.
March:
- My father-in-law isn’t doing too great, either.
- Started making a video for my dad, and also offended my youngest sister, who promptly blocked me from communications.
- My younger son went to visit my mom and stayed with her, and it was awkward. She did not communicate with me at all.
- She’s speaking to me now through one channel.
- My husband had taken over a lease from his dad, and it was time to turn it in, and we got suckered into another terrible loan.
- Received some mana from heaven
April
- I went to my dad’s memorial service, and it was beautiful.
May
- My father-in-law passed.
- At some point during this school year, another staff member was going to go to the Board over my tweet. Not sure if [redacted] went or not.
June
- School is out at the end of June.
- I rest for a bit.
July
- I teach summer school
- My husband and sons take a wonderful road trip down to California and also through Mesa Verde.
- Somewhere over the summer I lost a college friend to suicide.
- Somewhere over the summer I lost my cousin, who was one of the sweetest souls.
- Have fun going-away party for my BFF
August
- I don’t know. I was supposed to be in Ireland or Iceland. At least in my life plan, anyway.
September
- School begins again/end of August
- Still can’t shake ten-twenty pounds.
- Celebrate our 31st anniversary.
October
- This is the moment when my students will confuse Harper Lee (November) with Edgar Allan Poe (this month).
November
- Finally paid off all the trips
- Son’s roomate leaves him with all the rent. An expense we were barely covering during the good times.
- Still chubby. Meds not working.
- My best friend drives away in her bus. I will probably not see her again. I know this song.
- Hello, insomnia, my old friend.
December:
- Taking out predatory loans to get through to payday
- Trying to hang on emotionally
- Still showing up for students
- Thinking about the various years of my husband’s underemployment and how capitalism sucks. It’s taken a toll on me. (And, he’s tried everything he can physically do.)
- Still chubby.

In retrospect, (because is there any other kind of spect that stings as much?) my husband and I have maintained a particular philosphy/belief that serves us well: we make the best decisions with the information we have. I think most people do, even if they’re not aware of it. But there are shadowy forces that push on our decsisions, like the dopamine hits of crafting supplies and fast fashion. And damn, self, please: cut yourself some slack. Look at this year. My regrets are for the past four years when my spouse did have a job, and four years in his industry at his level is unheard of. For a time, I felt hopeful, like maybe we would actually start being able to save, fix the roof, go on a trip, or help with our sons’ finances and their dreams. I am not invited to out-of-state events because my friends know I’m perpetually broke. But then again I don’t get invited much anyway, and this isn’t me feeling pitiful for myself; I recognize that when I am the one “who leaves/moves” I lose that thread, the ties of tendons and bones. (Which is one reason why losing my local BFF fills me with grief…we were just getting started! We were just beginning our adventures! The ring was about to be thrown in Mordor!)

Financial Blunders

Responding to trauma and depression with purchases is definitely a curse, and a vicious spiral. My dad always said when you’re in a hole, stop digging. The problem is we hit many holes. I’m feeling the recurrant under-employed cycle throughout our financial lives together. One huge blunder was thinking I could be a SAHM during the years our boys were little. We tried. And my husband has the beautiful family trait of his family’s of being optimistic.
Fixed: getting my teaching degree for sustainable career was one of the best things I ever did. Probably leaving my former career was probably one of the worst.
Not having my spouse finish his degree early on was dumb. Or get his electrician’s license. His mom was right all along. Those computer jobs are garbage unless you’re one of the biggies in the company and have a yacht-ton of stock.

Blessings and Bounty

Oh, I feel better now. Rinsed out the gravel and silt from the wounds, and am pulling my head up toward the sun.
My list of blessings arrive on a wide horizon of hope, love, and creativity — I have an amazing life.
If I don’t continually write down the pain and mistakes, I am in danger of continuing to make them. And I literally and figuratively cannot afford to do that. I have shit to do, people.

While I may have lost the metaphorical necklace, and spent years replacing it only to find out my credit score hasn’t budged, I’m still existing not quite paycheck to paycheck, I still have some pretty cool gifts. If any of you reading this is taking this as a cautionary tale, “The Necklace” misses the point — it’s not about not deserving a night out on the town– we all do. But our celebrations and sharing are our best parts of being human and life on this planet. We let money block those moments too much. Have the potluck, split the check (with what each owes, and everyone leaves 20%), and get the career/profession that is sustainable: teaching, feeding, building, and solving: those are sustainable professions.

Now if we can only get the billionaires taxed properly.

Fluff the Knickers.

“There’s truth in every story told.” –Neil Gaiman

Last spring, when I made a commitment to my administration that I would create, develop and lead curriculum and classes for the critical and important vision of bringing technology instruction for our students; however, I wasn’t quite ready to give up ELA. I hoped to be able to continue my work in ELA and at least have one class. But it wasn’t meant to be, and I even knew it last year. Some instinct whispered to me, but I ignored it. Something didn’t sit right, but it wouldn’t have mattered anyway. My premonitions are usually accurate: it’s my lack of ability to stop or mend potential events where I struggle. English/Language Arts pumps my teaching heart with blood and purpose for the past eleven years: curriculum leader for five years, collaborative teams, professional development, hours of my own blogging, writing, research: every time a test changed or standards flowed in, I took it as a personal challenge to grow and adapt, all in order to help my students grow and adapt. I am not an outwardly competitive person (which I think confuses competitive people: I am my harshest critic), but my internalized coach is demanding. I have not found a teaching problem that can’t be solved with discussion, reading, trying: isolation is its kryptonite, however. Teaching is breathing: no oxygen = death.

If you take the time to read the thread above when I found out a week into the school year I wouldn’t be able to keep the ELA class, that hit me hard. The repercussions of this meant I wouldn’t be able to meet with beloved colleagues during PLCs and continue the work we’ve created in any formal way. The thousands of dollars of books, the Lord of the Flies unit, the planning, the money, the time, the curriculum –hours of the years, and the summer–stopped. Continuity and conversations: muted.

So when I process and grieve that due to numbers, budgets, and hard decisions that may or may not be in the process behind the scenes for over a year and I lost my one ELA class, please understand that need to reflect and process, but I will remain strong. And — full disclosure: the computer technology work I’ve been doing parallel these past eleven years, too, is also my heart. This is going to be very powerful indeed. I have my friend John Spencer in our decade-long digital friendship and discussion, my colleagues who know me, I share willingly and listen with open ears. My curiosity is a gift.

As I write this, pour a cup of coffee, I realize I am lucky, maybe even blessed, not cursed: our district is in big financial trouble. Being a building union representative, I’ve monitored this issue for some time now. We teachers and our building administration are justifiably scared. With fear comes an outward display of anger. From the information we’ve listened to in horror at union meetings, a few dozen teachers were forced to move to positions they didn’t want, or have the necessary credentials for. Trust me: if the district moved me to a calculus classroom parents could sue for educational malpractice. There isn’t enough Khan Academy in the world to catch me up in that content area.

But as my friend and mentor said, good teaching is good teaching. I am fortunate that my style and approach has never been concrete-content driven, but big picture learning. We create scientists, mathematicians, historians, journalist, writers, readers, and thinkers. I’m looking forward to continuing this work.

The Great Handshake started a series on teacher hacks. While the word ‘hack’ connotes a modern sense of coolness and ingenuity, it doesn’t really serve the powerful message of the posts. “Conferences that work” artfully and subtly underscores how data has gone wrong in a few powerful sentences: (typos are the writer’s: pay not attention)

“My principal and I have started to call these meetings “data chats.” At first, I thought that was a great name. But then, as is often the case, adults started to ruin the word “data.” People start to think that we are turning kids into numbers and charts, and forgetting the humanity that makes teaching and learning so challenging and meaningful.

But this kind of data is full of humanity. In fact, on countless occasions, students have cried about challenging years while recounting why certain times in their school experience were harder than others. Teachers have to be prepared to hear about pain that students should never have to endure, and reasons why they failed all of their classes a given year. At other times, students laugh as they remember middle school, goofing off, and all of that pre-pubescent confusion. During these conferences teachers morph from planners of individual instruction, to listeners and amatuer councelors, to friends, to mentors, to motivators and to all the other roles wedged in between those.”

Read some of his comments and noticings for the student. If I were her, there is no way I would leave that conversation without finding my dignity, integrity and moreover, power again. She is a lucky student.

But it shouldn’t take “luck.” Conferencing, relationships, conversations and heartfelt, sincerity supports all of us, teachers and students alike.Our building is fortunate to have strong leadership now. However, if we don’t have a role model or leader who promotes warmth and fairness amongst the staff, we must steal it for ourselves in order to have the strength to have the loving, difficult conversations with students. To reframe and refocus: “Yes, you are more than a test score. And here is why.”

What I research, read, think about, write about: all of that may not mean anything to the district, administration, or leaders. They have their own purposes and to-do lists. So, I’ll continue to grow back my tails, fluff my knickers, and carry on.

I have important work to do:

No Longer a Luxury: Digital Literacy Can’t Wait

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1srYlGLpB-Xck57Uj8P4DDjh1wSSqVcFA6m8FTMsYUTk/edit?usp=sharing

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Yesterday was a terrible, terrible day. A tragic event, which in an attempt to maintain some semblance of privacy for the family, I shall not name now. At some point I might, but not now.

But–I have a question:

One thing that is forgotten about many discussions of the teaching profession is at first, and fundamentally, we are humans. We are mortal. We hurt and heal one another. In all of our classes, courses, professional development, assessment and data design, how many more things can we layer on top, crushing this human spirit?

How do you handle the loss of a child, a student?

I need to know.