“Why yes, I‘ll work for free, who wouldn’t?”

 As I enter year thirty-two of teaching, I am excited to see my students. I am excited to see my colleagues. I have new ideas for what to teach and how to engage today’s screen-oriented children. I am also mad as a hornet, once again. Evidently I am expected to get in my classroom and have it ready to go - for free. 

A strongly worded note from the boss insists that we spend days for which we are not paid to get our classroom ready. You see, we are required  to pack anything away over the few weeks of summer break, because the floors must be polished. So we have to put back all the furniture, rearrange and re-assemble everything s well as update the decor and bulletin boards. Most teachers do this alone or in teams of friends. Music is fairly isolated, so it’s mostly alone for me, unless I ask for help. 

I know that everyone has seen how many extra hours teachers work. It’s a fact that walks alongside a profession that is the scapegoat for society’s problems.  My contract pays $$ a year for 186 days of work. (And by $$, I mean kind of enough. But that’s another story.) Of course, since I am flat out told to have that room ready by close of business on the day before the 186 days begin, I’ll work for free. Wouldn’t anybody? Grrrr. 

The Turning Point, or Rebounding from "Burnout" 7/21/13

When the last day of the school year arrives, I do not cry.  Yes, I'll miss the ones that are moving on.  No doubt.  One in particular this past year - more than any one in a LOT of years.  (Godspeed, Chelsea!) But by the time the beginning of June rolls around, there are no tears left.  There is just tiredness, backed up by being fed up with excuses, whining, arguing, meanness crying, roughhousing gone too far....in other words, burned out.

"Burned out" is one of the awful insider insults in the teaching field. We see another teacher lose their patience, not turn things in, arrive late, depart early......and we whisper "burned out" among ourselves. I personally am always showing signs of "burnout" by the time summer is here. When I am finally home day after day, it takes a while to re-charge.  For the remainder of June, I don't want to be around children, hear  child's voice, talk cute to a child.....thank goodness, mine are grown and there are only college-age semi-adults around.  But sometime in July, it always happens;  I miss the kids.

I start looking at kids again.  I start smiling at the things I hear them say.  (Let's face it, children are, quite often, hilarious!)  I watch them goof off in the grocery store, or at a restaurant.  I'm ready to interact with small humans again.  It takes about six weeks, but the turning point always arrives.  After that, I'm anxious to prepare the classroom and get ready for that first day of school.  Welcoming my little darlings is so much fun. I know that if they are greeting me with a smile, a big hug, and "I missed you so much!" that I'm doing something right in their little lives. I must not be completely "burned out".

I think the turning point has come for me is the past couple of days.  I wondered if events at home would delay the turning point and extend the summer "burnout".  That remains to be seen, because imagination and the actual classroom with the actual little darlings are two different things.  I have been lonely for a few days now, and I think (hope, wish, pray!) that my job is the perfect counterbalance to loneliness.  Children are always needy, or excited, or wondering, or hurt....you get it.  I see one hundred fifty different little ones each day!  There's no way I can be lonely if I truly connect and teach them.  I may be sad underneath, but I won't be lonely!

I do worry some about the coming school year.  I worry that my underneath sadness may surface and cause me to cry, or speak sharply to a child that just needs a gentle correction.  I worry that older little ones, now that they have probably heard why I missed a week last year, will ask me about it, and crack my happy shell and the sadness will pour out.  Hopefully, the very fact that I am worried about them - and how my actions will affect them - will keep me in check.  I like to think I have a protective instinct around the little ones. 

Let's say for now that the turning point seems to be happening, right on schedule.  So many other things have been happening right on schedule since Scott died:  the garbage is collected, the bills have to be paid, haircuts are needed, fingernails keep growing, meals have to be cooked and dishes washed, dogs need grooming.  It shouldn't be amazing to me that I would start feeling ready to see my little ones at school again.  But then again, any good feeling right now amazes me.

In a few weeks, the imagination will become reality.  I really do hope that I can keep the happy face on for the kids and that my twenty-fourth year of teaching music will be as fun for them as it has been for all the little ones through the years.  I'm thankful for the family of friends that will be there with me, and may we all stay away from the "burn-out"!