In July I started to write a blog called "My Last Year Teaching".
I walked in the door of Hinkley this year and said "I'm leaving at the end of the year."
That was 7 August.
Today, 2 October 2024, I am 19 days away from leaving this building for good.
RelatedUnrelated, I walked out the door of LHS on 4 October, 2019.
The original plan was to make it through the year here as half time theatre half time lang arts and then retire at the end of the year and work online from home for Progressive. From Home. The Dream.
By the second Week it was abundantly clear that I was not going to survive LA 12 with my mental health intact. It's not like LA at Littleton, or an elective. It's on three platforms, daily assignments and graduation capstone requirements. Half the kids on IEP's and several not on track to graduate. Thank God for co-teachers. Yet, relying on her to carry the weight for both of us also took a snicker snack to my mental health. I started mumbling, and checked out of the class in the name of working on Steel Magnolias.
I have a new, kind hearted AP, but his job is to do as he's told, and what he's told makes no sense for performing arts, and takes up two planning periods a week. Another clipper clap to my tottering mind. I began low tirades against using AI in writing. I upped the snack factor for rehearsals. I stared bantering with the AP regarding data collection which is going to tell me what I already know: If you do not rehearse, you do not improve. I dug in harder to teach Theatre of the Oppressed. I actually taught Oedipus to ten kids who speak only Spanish.
North Middle School reached out the first week of August. I replied that I would be interested if they could hurry it up before I started rehearsals, thespians, cabaret, collage... Silly Billy Am I. This district moves at the speed of global warming.
First it was the email "Are you interested?" But no job post, just vague "electives opening". Scrolling through turned in assignments in LA 12 - I paused. I answered "Yes".,
Then it was "It's posted as electives" but was posted in a secret hiding place to which I had to be directed. Grumble mumble snap pop, I am not digging around on another platform. Thank you. Click.
Then it was "just email the principal directly" who sent the link. Tap,snap, upload.
Surfing IC and Naviance and Study Synch to locate turned in LA12 material was making my brain fog worse. But I stopped everything to ferret out the job posting at North. Eyes are bad, need a new prescription. Just take them off and read naked eyed, running my hand through my gray and green hair, three inches from the screen. 3 September. Old Lady Searching For Her Resume: Black on Silver, 4X8.
By the time they called to interview on 11 Sept, I wasn't interested but invested in my kids. I blew off the first interview by shutting down entirely on my way out the door. My brain screaming "Nope nope waste of time you're old with all due respect to your experience stop it, kryssi, just stop". And... they rescheduled for the next week. Ugh. So I went. And two days later I was hired.
So.
I am transferring to our middle school who want a theatre program. I've been asked to build it. They've not had one for six years. I'm wanted. I feel valued.
That can't be right.
My creed has always been “I don't want to belong to any club that would have me as a member”. Groucho Marx meant it as funny, self effacement. I took it as a life mantra for my loser mentality.
Let's take a derailed moment here to appreciate that when I left The Building in May I was scheduled to teach LA 11, which I did not want to do due to SAT prep. The principal switched it to LA 12 without asking me---the same way she struck my theatre classes. When I asked why she switched me from LA 11 to LA 12, she said "You said you were worried about SAT prep." So giving me a graduation requirement class is better? My brain feels like it's getting hit by a 2X4 every day.
Staying here and teaching half and half was not working. Living in a building with no hope sucks. Theatre is dead---you can't teach only freshman and seniors with no middle ground to train people. And you can't recruit for classes that don't exist from a class of seniors trying to graduate. It is a dead end.I live in the center house in the middle of a dead end, one way street. Steven Wright. I don't even write my own material, but at least I site it appropriately. And I'm screaming to empty space in the cul -de -sac like hurricane Harvey sitting on Houston. Nobody's listening, and I'm now irreparably angry and seen as the crazy woman jumping up and down on the stage.
Edward Albee wrote, " It's one of those things a person has to do; sometimes a person has to go a very long distance out of his way to come back a short distance correctly."
My long distance journey began 4 October 2019.
I thought it referred to driving to Aurora from Lakewood.
Then I thought it was teaching theatre online during Covid.
So I doubled down, focusing on "correctly" and built the theatre program back slowly and respectfully, using a trip to NYC, returning kids to Thescon, The Bobby G's and CHSSA. No drama with parents, personal feelings or ego.
Collage. A Christmas Carol with band, choir and fourteen small children from the community.
Uphill. Like Sisyphus. Against bullying admin, apathy, trauma, loss of hope.
I don't know what what "coming back a short distance" looks like. I don't even know where "back" is located. But I feel strongly that I prepared for it correctly. And it is not here in this building.
And to follow up, Mr. Albee's quote is Jerry's from Zoo Story. He's referring to how far he's traveled to reach this spot in Central Park, at this time, so that he can coerce Peter into killing him.
To be continued...
