Seriously, I actually asked my mom to come help me set up at the library on Friday. Well, why not--she's retired, has been curious to see my school, and if my 77-year-old former landlady, Ruth, can volunteer on a daily basis for a school in my district, I see nothing wrong with mom lending a few hours of her time. So there she was, easily bypassing the throngs of frustrated Spanish-speaking mothers at the security desk, patting children on the head and cooing over their new uniforms, finally making her way upstairs to the library. I got her busy right away putting protective covers on books. If you think covering books is a misplaced priority when I have so much else to do, think again. Without those covers, that tens of thousands of dollars of worth of donated books, carefully selected by the Expert One (me), will be destroyed by childish hands within three years, guaranteed. I want our students to have these great books, and that means making them last for many years. Plus, I don't have the time to repair or chase after fine money for damaged books. So I leave book covering to the volunteers. The principal did send down a couple of paraprofessionals to help. I doubt that will last long, though. Frankly, I am quite furious with him. For now I'm simply letting it ride..what choice do I have??? Our elder stateswoman librarian in the district is raising our schedule issues with the union.
Anyway, the one bone the principal threw me is that he allowed me to wait an additional week before seeing my classes that are not teacher preps. This was not an unreasonable request on my part; even teachers with decent schedules often don't have to start seeing classes for the first two weeks of school. This meant I'd only have to see half my classes this coming week.
Anyway, so there we are--Mom and one of the paras covering books, me running around colorcoding my teaching materials by level and organizing my personal storage area, when Principal comes in...Still smarting over his indifference to my schedule, I instinctively CROSSED MY ARMS in front of my chest; then, aware of this, uncrossed them. But I couldn't smile. "Is the library going to be ready for Monday?" he asked, looking at the standing files spread around the table." "Yes," I lied, thinking, what an ASININE question...no school library, even in the best of schools, is READY the second day of school. He should know better. "Remember, I'm not seeing my non-prep classes next week," I reminded him. "No, we're going to start full throttle on Monday, you are going to be seeing all of your classes," he replied. I looked at him in shock and disbelief. "But you said..." My voice dropped. No use arguing with one's principal. He left. I fumed to mom and the para.
I feel like I'm being set up for failure, and I resent it even though I'm not going to fail. But Principal, I'm a professional, and expert, and have put my heart and soul into this job, and I love the kids and I love the school. You may not think you need my respect and my expertise, but you do. Once I had a lot of respect for you, but now I have lost it. You did not HAVE to pull that last-minute switch.
I don't know if this counts as psychic messaging (yes, Theo?) but it sure beats standing with my arms folded...one can't write with one's arms folded.
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