I chose that title because in spite of the fact that I have been teaching for 350 days, in spite of reaching the ten day countdown in my second year, today took me back in a time machine to a feeling I was used to having in my first year. A feeling of hopelessness. A feeling of being trapped. A feeling of wanting desperately to escape. Or hide... possibly inside a small, inconspicuous cupboard.
I hate that people reading this are probably wondering how bad six and seven year olds can REALLY be. Suck it up, you're saying at home. Hear me out.
Let me paint a picture for you of the last two weeks. I get to school at 6 in the morning and prepare my classroom. This is actually my favorite part of the day. It's quiet and I have a large amount of coffee to enjoy with no one else around. I've already gotten my daily dose of adult news thanks to a 20 minute commute and NPR's early morning programming. I'm not trying to make people feel bad for me because I get up early- I would do the early morning for the rest of my life if I could.
At 7, kids get there. They unpack, start their morning work, and try not to bug me. At 7:35, the late bell rings and I close my door. I close my door very slowly because it is the last time my students and I will see the light of day until 1:45 pm. I whisper last words to the other teachers on my hall, all closing their doorways equally slowly.
Okay, okay, I'm over exaggerating. We are allowed to leave for 20 minutes to eat lunch. But because of testing, there have been no specials, no recess outside, and absolutely NO noise. Ever. And my lunch break isn't so much of a lunch break. After 10 minutes of putting food on their trays at (they can't reach the plates themselves), I run to the bathroom for my one bathroom break of the day and scarf down my food in the remaining 10 minutes. And then we trek back to the room, silent, for the rest of the day. It feels like jail, not because I don't want to teach my kids, but because we are not allowed to leave the room and get some space from each other.
It's enough to put a strain on any relationship, but little kids need to move around. They need fresh air. They need to hear someone BESIDES me. They need a break. I NEED A BREAK. It's been nine days of this. Today, something finally snapped.
I won't go into details because it is not funny. Plus, I've been able to get over it thanks to some Starbucks, retail therapy, and a wonderfully intense power yoga class. But I wanted to be on the cyber record so that when it has been FOURTEEN days of no specials or outdoor recess, people know what happened to me when I don't return from work... yes, that's right. We still have five days of this solitary confinement left. Five more days of kids wanting to go to the hallway bathroom just for a change of scenery. Five more days of "Can we please go outside today?" Five more days.
I'm trying to stay positive. You can do anything for five days.
...except go without food. Or water. I fear this situation may be just as dire.
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