Finnegan begin again....

"There was a man named Michael Finnegan,
He grew whiskers on his chin again,
He shaved 'em off, but they grew in again,
Poor old Michael Finnegan, begin again."

Everything seems to go in circles. Cycles. A year ends, another begins. Finish to Start and back around. This is the theme of my mind's wanderings of late. Boomerang. I am back to where I started, and it feels very right to be here. I am welcomed with smiles and arms open (yes, and rolled eyes, but why not?)

My new school is my old school. I have a new room, with new furniture and old furniture. I have a new aide and an old one. I have familiar students, and unfamiliar ones. People to say "Nice to meet you" to, and others to whom I can say, "It's nice to see you again."

I have new ideas, also. Mixed with the freedom to exercise my old ideas, I don't want to let go of the new thinking. I want to push myself a bit harder, expect more and do more. Demand excellence of myself, that I might in turn coax it from others.

I'm excited about the new school year. This is a cycle, also. Teachers generally begin the new year excited and in a state of high anticipation. By October or so, the shine wears off a little, and we lose impetus around December, when we glide greatfully into Winter Break. Winters are often low and somewhat disillusioned, but with lengthening days, more direct sunlight and warm thermals come new ideas and plans, hope and challenge. We know what this year has brought, and we are already looking toward next, without quite relinquishing our hold on this one. By June, we release, and hold out our hands for the next year. New, yet old. Boomerang!

I am also oddly calm about this year. I generally get all worked up, wanting things to be perfect and smooth from day one, working myself into a frenzy just to be frustrated by imperfection. I already know the flight will wobble, I will be tested and tried and may even crash and burn. No matter what happens, however, I know I'll be back again next year and anticipating the flight.

Because it's flight! Wobbly or smooth, high or low, it is miraculous motion! It is learning, teaching, laughing, crying, worrying and hoping. It is loving a handful of kids who were made perfectly imperfect, and hoping to teach them a little of the joy of flight until they take off themselves.

Circles, cycles...round and around....
And so it begins again....

Hours

I have decided, on a lark, to record the actual hours that I spend in my classroom each day. I'm sure lots of people have done this, but hey, I'll add a hit to anyone who might google "teacher hours" in a vain effort to prove us all wrong.

I actually began this journal in July, when I first went to my new school to pick up the keys to my room and fill out some housekeeping-type paperwork--what username did I want for the Intranet, Health Card and the like. On July 31st, therefore, I began the school year with an hour on campus. Couldn't get into my room yet, however, because the previous teacher still needed to move out so the maintenance staff could shampoo the carpets. (Anyone who wants to survive in a middle school MUST be interested in the yearly shampooing of carpets--this is a necessity!)

It must be noted here, I think, that I have just moved back to my hometown after five years in Boise, ID. So, this beginning is twofold: a "new" town and a new job!

So, the countdown begins. Five weeks out: First contact! Get keys. Four weeks out: First full truckload of boxes is unloaded into my classroom. Three weeks out: 16 hours spent in my classroom plus 6 hours of training in something called "Direct Interactive Instruction." Met the Special Education staff from the district, as well as my own, brand-new building Special Education team. (We're all new to the building. The E/BD teacher has a year of experience in the district, I have 5 years' experience in Boise--so basically, on a whole different plane of existence--and the other two Resource teachers are fresh, new, "baby" teachers. Don't let the nickname disillusion you--they are ALL highly qualified young women!) A total of 23.5 hours spent working on my program so far.

Two weeks out: Two full days of "Algebraic Thinking" training, and four hours of caseload review and management with the department co-chair, a highly educated and extremely talented paraeducator who is an eight-year veteran of our school and our primary link to "how things work" at this middle school. Ten more hours spent reviewing IEP's and setting up my classroom for a total of 27 hours, bringing the grand total to 50.5.

One week out: One more full day of "Algebraic Thinking," a full day of "Welcome to Our District, an Orientation," a trip to the District Office for fingerprinting, signing my contract and getting my badge, and a full-day staff "Retreat" at the middle school. At this time, I still don't have a class list or a finalized schedule--my planning hour seems to flip-flop between fifth period and sixth, and I have no idea which of the 25 kids on my caseload will actually show up at my door next week. Throw in one parent meeting, a two-hour cram of how-to-use-the-IEP-program, and three informal parent meetings during 6th grade registration, and the grand total of hours is now 89.25. Mind you, only about 37 of those hours are considered "contract" and will eventually be added to my paycheck.

And so school finally begins!!