Dance, Monkey, Dance

It took me forever to get that post up, about my favorite texts. Normally, I am overjoyed about an opportunity to ramble on about poetry and hymns and Christmas music. Especially when I know I am not bothering anyone by doing it. Nobody has to read it. I just had to put it out there. And yet, after I started the entry, life went a little crazy insane. Normally I share the classroom load with another teacher. But she was laid off last Thursday, and the repercussions have been immense. I don't really want to go into great detail here, but lets say the choice looks a little shady on the behalf of management, and the parents I work with are in fact, rocket-scientists when it come to math and politics. Soo the parents have been in an uproar that this teacher was let go. She has worked with their children for 5 years. That means since these kids were infants and since their older brothers and sisters were in her class. And all of the sudden they have assigned temporary help, recently hired help, to be in the calssroom with me. The parents are calling meetings with the director, with corporate, and there has even been talk of demanding re-instatement with threat of lawsuits. It's just a mess. And in the middle of it all stands me. I was kept on because I have more qualifications and more experience. I have been working with these kids for 5 months, and the parents are just beginning to trust me. They know that my coworker and I got along well, that we had a system, and that we were doing great things with the kids. Now that I am pretty much on my own, they want to know all sorts of things about whats really going on. And they pull me aside and ask me quietly and then directors and regional managers pull me aside and ask me to buffer the consequences of the lay off. (At one point in one of those meetings my brain sort of shut off, and all I heard them saying was "dance, monkey, dance" and I was sorely tempted to get up on the desk and dance a jig, but then I snickered at the picture of me dancing a jig on the bosses desk and they looked at me funny and I was brought back to the conversation. But ever since then, the phrase "dance monkey dance!" runs through my head, especially when I am at work.) And I can't get any more straight answers from my bosses than the parents can, except that then they put more pressure for me to be the "warm fuzzy" person that helps the parents transition and come on people, you know me, am I warm and fuzzy? No. And the parents don't want warm fuzzy. They want honest. And I want to be honest. But honestly, I am afraid that if I am honest, then my head will be the next one on the block. Dance Monkey Dance.

Oh, and by the way, don't forget that our "priority is the children, and that their transition is smooth and their education is uninterrupted"

I am a good teacher. These kids will be ready for school in spite of politics, pressure, lay offs and NAEYC. (They're actually the biggest hindrance to education, bigger even than No Child Left Behind, but don't get me started there) Dance, Monkey, Dance.

So how do I say to the parents "I know you love that teacher, but we will be fine without her. You are the ones causing the stress and interruption. If you will back off, help that person find a new job, pay her extra for babysitting, and let your kids come to school and learn without pressuring me for more info than I am allowed to give, then we will all come out of it just fine."

It just sounds a little callous to say that we will be fine without her. But we will. Do I miss her? Yes. Was she a great teacher? Yes. Did she love your kids? Yes. She was practically a member of your family. But educators are not supposed to be members of the family, that line has to be drawn in order for an academic education to happen. I know the line is blurry. We deal with that every day.

Anyways. Stress at work has gone a little off the charts. Adding that to the Christmas season is really frustrating. I don't even have a tree up yet. And I find myself having to turn my phone off in order to accomplish even simple tasks. Last Saturday, I had no less than 12 missed calls and 8 texts. I'm sorry if I haven't gotten back, it's not that I don't love you, it's just that if I add to the anxiety by answering the phone, (remember how I have phone anxiety?) then I will find myself back in the fetal position, losing the months of progress I have made. I will take the next few weeks one day at a time. I will call when I have something positive to say and at least a half an hour to say it in. Until then, all you may get is an earful of undecipherable ramblings or a rampage about something riduculous and possibly offensive.

But here is the peaceful positive note. I learned how to turn off my phone for a day. That's healthy. I learned how to accept a peaceful evening in the face of a to do list that was three miles long. It wasn't even the procrastinating-avoidance kind of acceptance. It was the "My priority is here, with friends and with mental health" sort of acceptance. That's healthy. And it was a wonderful evening. No knots in my stomach from worrying about what I should be doing, no pressure to be anyone other than myself. No "Dance, Monkey, Dance" Not once. It was the most "at home" feeling in the world. And so I've decided that if I ever go "relief society" enough to want one of those cutesy sayings over the doorway, it will probably say something like "Home is where nobody makes you dance like a monkey." And you can quote me on that.