A new level

Some of you who have been around a while may remember my post from last spring in which I informed you readers that I'd be making a change in my job this year. Others, who have been around much, much longer, might remember this other one, written 4 years ago on my first day teaching 6th graders. It has now, strangely enough, become a story that the middle school principal reads to her new teachers every year during their orientation. Pretty funny.

Anyway, my sister in Pelham has been moaning and groaning about how there's nothing to do where she lives, and how the highlight of her and Anna Claire's day is when, first thing in the morning, they sit down at the computer to see if "Meeyam" (we're still working on the pronunciation. heck, who am I kidding? We're still working on getting the 1 1/2-year-old to know my name.) has updated her blog. And guess what? She hasn't. Not in over a month. And guess what? She knows it. I told Julie that she could blog for me, if she wants, but she declined.

So here I am, wondering how to come up with a story to write about my first year of sophomores that will rival the one about my first year of sixth graders. No scary locker stress this year, no tears (from students and parents) as first period begins on the first day, no dads with power tools in the hall after school, installing mirrors and shelving units in the teeny weeny little spaces that belong to their kids. None of that.

The interesting part about it all is that the sophomores that I'm teaching now are the very same 6th graders that I wrote about that year. You see, four years ago, these guys, now so big and macho and cool, were entering the 6th grade. These were the ones who stared at me in wide-eyed wonder as I revealed the mystery of the correct combination of numbers, these were the ones who cried when they couldn't do it themselves. Now, I'm merely "Miss Terry...oops! I mean, Mrs. Powell." Now I hold no power to them, no mysterious trait, no reason to be respected merely because I'm a teacher. Instead, it's the opposite.

Merely because I'm a teacher, I have to prove that I'm worthy to be listened to. I have to prove that I know what I'm talking about. I have to prove that I mean business.

It's like that "innocent until proven guilty" thing in a different form. With 6th graders, I was respected until proven unworthy. Now, I'm unworthy until proven otherwise.

So far, I think I'm doing okay. I have one class that's really testing me, but I'm done with them after 1st period. The other four have gone well. We'll have to see how that lasts. For now, I'll leave you with a few of the questions I've received from my students, all prior to 11 am this morning, as they were taking a test over a novel we've been studying. Seriously. are these truly 10th graders? and what do these questions say about me, one of their former teachers, and my abilities? Hmmm.

1) What is an "assertion"? (pronounced, ass' er shee' yun)
2) What does "i.e." mean?
3) Is worldly-est a word?
4) What about "calmness"?
5) Can we abbreviate?
6) 10 seconds later ... "Can we abbreviate?"

Right. Wish me luck!