Long Overdue

I'm not a very good blogger, apparently.

Personal expression has never been a strength. It's been nearly two months since my last post. My mind is a lukewarm mush made from half-baked ideas, cut off cliches, and fuzzy pictures. It takes a lot of effort and an eloquence I don't possess to sift through and present the relevant information.

The other issue is I've boxed myself in with this "writing about teaching" concept. I can't separate my life from the classroom. Working for a boarding school is sort of like being a celebrity. A trip to the grocery store is seen, scrutinized, and discussed amongst both kids and colleagues alike the next day.

Kid/colleague: "I saw you at P&S yesterday with ___________! You were looking pretty dressed up. What were you doing together?"

Me: "Oh, I was just buying some granola bars before a meeting and ___________ needed to get some cookies for his class."

K/c: "Are you suuure that's all you were doing? Giggle, giggle, giggle."

Me: Blank stare.

I'm not used to, nor do I enjoy, being the center of conversation. The idea that others are watching my actions and making conclusions about my relationships and lifestyle based off of a trip to the coffee shop or with whom I eat dinner in the dining hall makes my heart beat a little faster and my cheeks automatically redden.

And so this is the problem I encounter. The above has NOTHING to do with the lessons learned and taught in the classroom, but everything to do with my job. I don't really have a life away from the school, and thus my life is my work. But it doesn't mean that my work is always education related. Does that make sense?

I enjoy teaching. I find my students (generally) willing to learn and open to new ideas. We get along well and I think they gain something along the way. But I feel like a fake. I teach dance, but have never had a professional career. It's certainly not a necessity, but I (at that age, and even now, actually) wouldn't respect myself as a teacher just for having a degree. If you go to a liberal arts college wanting a dance degree, it's pretty much only a matter of hanging around the studio long enough. Talent and skill aren't really vital elements.

So perhaps I'm learning more than I'm teaching. Sitting in a cornfield with 1200 other people offers (too) much time for thinking over old decisions and playing the "what if" game. I'm learning that although I've told myself being a ballerina is never going to happen it's not something I've actually given up on. Which is scary. Recently old video tapes have found their way onto my TV screen, showing images of a young me dancing away. It's a weird form of emotional cutting that isn't particularly useful or healthy.

It's a challenge to move forward at any sort of reasonable pace when you can't stop looking over your shoulder to see what's happened in the past.

But it's a new year just around the corner, and I have big plans, beginning with a physical reminder that what's happened is done with in the form of a new tattoo.

I will go back to the cornfields and stash the old videos in the closet and instead go to the studio and WORK. I will send my best friend old letters and photos that do nothing but add a sticky and nasty film to the brain mush of the past eight years of overly romanticized relationships. I will ignore the comments and probes from fellow boarding schoolers into my personal life. I will meet people with an open mind. I will love my children and do my best to educate them. I will nod and smile and be kind to my crazy fine arts colleagues. I will remember that I'm lucky to have a job at all, let alone a job in the arts, let alone a job that lets me work on my own art. I will be happy.

First Frost

I'm starting to feel antsy.



This happens to me on a fairly regular basis; as soon as I become somewhat comfortable in a new place or in a new job I yearn for freedom and something new. I'm not good at long term commitments and this makes me very nervous. Will I always be this restless?



Teaching appeals to me on some level for this reason; there are many, many breaks from classes to get away from the school. The students and courses change relatively often. Every day the schedule is a little different than the one before it. And yet.



I'm feeling confined by my smallish salary and heaps of bills. I have two long breaks coming up and no funds with which to take advantage of them. But I think I'll go ahead and live it up as best I can. Isn't that what your 20's is all about? Making impulsive, decisions based on emotion rather than rational thought? I read a New York Times article recently that told me that, and I think it's time I lived a little irrationally. So I'm off to DC in two weeks to see old friends and a new place. But I do wonder about the wanderlust. Will it ever go away?

Fall Break

One of the many perks of a teaching career are the vacation days. Anytime the students have days off, the faculty does as well.

Which brings us to this past weekend and first few days of the week. I've spent my time off for Fall Break lounging around my parent's house feeling very much like a college kid visiting for the weekend eating my parent's food, using their washer, and sleeping in my childhood twin bed.

My favorite sort of trip is a weekend trip. It's just long enough to throw yourself fully into an adventure involving any combination of the following things: getting horribly lost, indulging in very little sleep, drinking too much, eating too much, meeting new people, catching up with old people, etc. etc., but has you happily back home before you tire of over-indulgence. I'm feeling well rested (mentally, if not in the literal sense) and rejuvenated and ready for a return to boarding school living.

So ready, in fact, that I spent a very solid amount of time looking slightly crazy at the local coffee shop choreographing for my class and company. I'd forgotten how challenging it is to create movement seated, in a public place, without moving too much. None the less, I soldiered on and completed all of my work for the rest of the week, leaving my evenings once I return to school blissfully free (not that my particular area of study really requires extensive amounts of diligent preparation - thanks, dance!)

Having a long weekend away from the fishbowl gave me time to sit back and assess how I feel about my job. Here's what I've concluded:

While I, of course, have some issues with the politics of the school and wish I had the power to tweak a few things within my department particularly, I'm extremely lucky to wake up every day and NOT feel like I'm going to work. I love my classes and my students and teaching and all of that far outweighs my other issues. For now, at least.

I know that this is not a particularly linear blog so far; I've left out bits and pieces of ideology and full anecdotes that might give more insight into the life. Those will come, certainly. I've felt overtired and uninspired since I started this thing. Break has, as I said, given me a pulse of energy, which, I hope carries with it some creative inspiration to somewhat eloquently and endearingly tell the tale of this year.

Now it's time to continue the sweat pant-ed lounging and end this wildly erratic little post.

Much Delayed

Autumn has a way of causing nostalgia flare-ups for me. Despite the fact that, like every other Fall I've experienced in my adolescent and adult life, I'm on an academic campus running around in scarves and coats attempting to stay on top of my schedule, this feels wildly different.

It is different. I'm no longer a student. I'm a teacher.

It still sounds strange to say that, despite the fact that I've been here for two months, wearing my name tag that proudly declares me "Ms. Jackson" on a daily basis. I still feel young and uncertain. Nervous. Full of wanderlust. Nostalgic.

Drawers and shelves in my old bedroom in my parent's house hold many a started and quickly abandoned journal. I grow bored and unsatisfied very quickly, I'm afraid. I'm hoping that the more public nature of a blog with possible readers will shame me into continuing to document this year. I've been told I'll learn many new (and generally unexpected things) and that I'd better write them down so that I don't miss them as they happen.

What have I learnt so far?

- Boarding school education is so wildly different than public school education. The kids here are at once much more independent than I was as a high schooler, but infinitely more confined. They'll never know the joys of a snow day spent watching movies at a friend's house, or driving around late at night, holding hands with a boy, or trying to transform the truly and unfortunately reliable looks of the gym into a pirate ship or a casino or a beach for Prom or Homecoming, because every minute of every day is scheduled and supervised, literally right down to the socks they're allowed to wear. I suppose I missed out on things (mainly academic in nature) by not attending boarding school, but I don't feel like I missed out on any opportunities because of it.

- All that said, the boarding school block schedule is fantastic. I teach at 8:30AM twice a week, and beyond that never have to be anywhere before noon.

- Living in two motel rooms will be a good story one day. I hope.

- Dining Hall food does not improve with age.

- The biggest issue I have with teaching has everything to do with school politics and nothing to do with the students or the classroom.

My age and newness to this school and town (population: 1200) occasionally makes me feel like I'm living in a fish bowl, with every action and inaction being carefully scrutinzed, discussed, and judged by various members of the community. I'm hoping that the longer I'm here without incident the more I'll feel like an insider and less the new dance teacher with (fill in the blank: a tattoo, a swearing problem, innappropriate dining hall attire, cats, etc.) Time will tell.