The words are from George and Ira Gershwin’s song The Man I Love, but the point of this ramble has nothing to do with looking for a man . . . unless you consider this writer’s search for himself. Actually, I’m in search for SOMEONE searching for me: for my friendship, to employ my talent for dollars instead of thrift-store platitudes . . . but I digress.
It’s been too long since monologue-ing wicha, and I’m about to burst with “catchup.” Last week I was BLESSED every day with a substitute teaching assignment and this week on a Tuesday, having worked neither Mon or Tue-day, I feel as bereft otf a future as Don Rumsfeld must feel about ever again working in the shadow of the White House.
A scenario: You know a guy who hasn’t quite connected successfully to liife since 1999. You know he’s behind in his bills, he drives a 20 year old car without a muffler and hasn’t had a date since 2002. He’s seldom happy-happy when you’re around him; at best, he appears to have reached an agreement with the “tiger of life” that the tiger will allow him to hold onto his tail, and in return, the tiger will not consume him. In this kind of deal, the tiger sustains legitimacy by appearing kinder than his true nature, and the guy gets to live. There’s no reason why you might want to give this guy anything for Christmas, even though your relationship has been mutually rewarding for five years: favors repaid by favors, regular phone calls made from both ends of the telephone line. But it’s Christmas, and you want to give him something because you can afford to give him something and you want to show you appreciate his presence in your life. So what do you give? The possibilities are endless: a gift certificate to a muffler shop? A baked turkey fromSchnucks? A subscription to an aviation history magazine? No. You give him a subscription to Time and Newsweek. And on December 19, both issues sarrive in the mailbox. And you think: “Maybe microwaved for 45 seconds on high with a little Catalina dressing poured over the front cover and a decent steak knife, you MIGHT net positive sustenance from that kind of magnanimous Christmas thinking! “Join me now in merry measure/While I tell of Yuletide treasure.” . . . . YAYES! Tuesday will be my good news day!
I still haven’t figured out the picture posting. Had some nice feedback from an anonymous reader about how to do it. Printed the answers at the FAQ area, and I’m just gathering the resolution to try to understand them and getting things going with picture. I KNOW I can do it, but the prospect of actually thinking about it pretty hard is more intimidating that I want to wrestle with. Maybe later today.
Last week I began enjoying sub teaching like never before. The epiphany came in Ms. D’s language arts class at Washingtom MS. The office manager is an acquaintance from Capitol Caffe poetry open mic days, and whenever I carom into the office, I reap a warm smile and convivial welcome. I had subbed at Ms. D’s class for about an hour the week before, and this time, I came for the day. Suffice to say, as I responded to raised hands during a test each class was taking, I saw appreciation in the eyes of those I helped. To have made the leap from contempt which is the usual student feedback, to appreciation . . . well, for the first time in five years, I knew why teachers teach middle school. It was the highlight of my time with District 186, and I’ve resolved that after Christmas and New Years Day, I am going to get SERIOUS about finding full time employment in the system.
Also subbed at Franklin MS, Springfield HS and Lanphier HS. I prefer the HS action, but this year, I’ve been lucky with assignments to more civil MS classes. Put an accused war criminal from Gitmo’s special hideaway into a language arts class at a southeastern Springfield MS, and you will make a Yahweh-fearing stool pigeon out of him before lunch break. This is probably just my opinion.
The week of honest work set me back a fur piece maintaining all the web pages. I slowly caught up over the weekend and am almost to the point of enjoying life again. IF ONLY the SUB TEACHER LINE WOULD CALL ME TO WORK! I find myself in poetry and journalism and photography and aviation history, and I lose myself substitute teaching. Go figger.
As I toddled down to Writers’ Bloc Saturday morning, I began to think my prospects for success as a writer/photographer are behind me DAMMITDAMMITDAMMIT! . . . . BUT I would rather be anonymous, a non-entity who’s paying my bills on time and eating more frequently than a failed writer who screwed himself. Now, if only the sub line would call me to WORK. It’s going to be a grim week next. No school, meaning no pay check. And NOBODY’s going to be hiring between now and January 2 at least! dang it.
It’s lunch time. Where did I put the Catalina dressing?
Well, I really enjoyed reading this. Even though I’m 57 I haven’t been as poor since I was putting myself through college and eating oatmeal everyday out of the electric popcorn popper. Your still young enough to get that taching job and don’t give up your other career dreams. Msu didn’t tell us back in 1973 that the chances of getting an art teaching job was slim to none, when they cranked out so many teachers that year. Anyway took alot of other jobs. After moving to Ohio about 20 yrs. ago I did actually teach art for one yr in a Montessori school. Then the partents freaked out there was a revolution they fired the principal there went my job. Got a divorce a couple of years later. My aunt left me some money I went back to college to get ceritified two classes $2,500. The job that came up in my district well I wasn’t even interviewed, after subbing ther for 5 years the principal hired a neighbor of his. Can’t afford to update it again and it seems like all of the ones just out of college get the jobs. Oh well, I’m over that but what really gets me is getting up at 5:30 in the morning and waiting for the phone to ring. I can’t sleep until the phone rings because I would have a tendency to like to stay in my warm bed. The other thing that gets me is we have no real buddies to hang with at work. They have their secret Santas their lunches, their cookie exchanges and we don’t even know its spirit day or slipper or opposite day. And do you think would could get on that free flu shot? Well last year I was called in alot more also, This year the memo must have gone out that they were warned not to take time. I can’t live like this anymore and I’m looking for a different job. But your right the cool thing is is when your in your element and your accepted by the student, they trust you they like you.
I think I used up my quota of electricity for the day.
Michelle
Michelle - Thanks for reading and THANKS for posting your comment! I’m not bothered by the “inside track” activity amonng the full-time faculty when I sub teach. I am the convivial observer. Being recognized by teachers who don’t even know me (thanks to my visits to their schools over the years and apparently, good words getting around the grapevine, most of the full timers know I’m no threat, I’m friendly, and they are friendly in turn. By the grace of God, I am as healthy as a healthy horse. Hope you have a warm, reverent and rewarding Christmas!