The Bloggess posted about it being September and how Septembers are always hard for her, and she doesn't remember it until she goes back to previous years and sees that, yes, Septembers are harder. There is less light, and it's time to get out the light box. And maybe it's other things, too, I don't know.
For me, the hardest month has always been February and not just because it's weird to spell. There's not a ton of light in February, either, and we're still at least month away from going onto daylight savings time* and everything is gray. The trees, the snow on the ground, the sky, everything. You suffer through 3 weeks of cold, neverending slush and wake up to realize it's February 6th. Every day is Tuesday and there's a staff meeting you forgot. That's February for you, and I hate it every year.
But this September isn't breaking any records for me, either.
Last year at this time we were starting a new and scary school year in hybrid, and learning how to use online teaching and zoom and masking and staying 6 feet apart and it was all pretty terrible and challenging. My department lost a staff position to budget cuts and needing the person to staff the online school, but everyone was taking hits for the team so we buckled down and did it. We were a TEAM, by gum, and we would pull together and do the job because it was important.
This year, the district hired over 140 new teachers and did not replace the one gifted teacher we lost.
We have more kids to serve than we did a couple years ago, and they could not, somehow, find it in the budget to replace one gifted teacher.
We have been cut, and cut and cut.
I have 100 kids on my list to serve. and 14 teachers to support. And my load is lighter than most. From higher ups I hear how I ought to be doing more, and I'm sent articles on how gifted education isn't having any impact.**
We are back at school full time, and we are all wearing masks now. We are trying to be as "normal" as possible, with some parents full on attacking teachers, attacking science, and accusing us of brainwashing their children for daring to read a book with a Black main character.
It is disheartening.
The kids are troopers. They are good about masking and they just want to be kids. They give me hugs and light up when they see me. They are the best thing, and they keep me going.
But this September has been hard, and while I feel the job I do is important, I don't have the time to serve the kids the way they deserve. The work I do does not feel meaningful, in the same way that spreading out a charity donation of $100 to 50 charities isn't really meaningful. The effort of cashing the checks negates the value of the $2. But I'm still out the hundred bucks, and all anybody got was annoyed. I want to have hope that things will get better, but it seems like right now the light at the end of the tunnel has been redistributed to another department.
The best news I've gotten is that the State wants to give teachers booster shots starting in October. And my hometown has gone rogue and declared masks mandatory for public indoor spaces. So there's that. But I'm still down.
And I'm not looking forward to February.
*which we should always be on, imo. To hell with reality and matching sundials. It's not like using time zones doesn't muck about with time anyway, and I'm okay with kids going to school in the dark. 90% of the kids in my neighborhood have parents waiting with them at the bus stop anyways if they're in grade school. And yes, I realize we've got a lot of privilege to do that, but having it be a little lighter in the morning for a month or two isn't going to fix the problem. Give me my light in the afternoons. I cannot abide having the sun go down at 4pm.
**how much impact does any education have when you reduce it 90 minutes a week at best? The answer here isn't "let's just get rid of it, it clearly doesn't work" it's "maybe we ought to try doing it right for a change, and then see what happens?"
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