The past three months…

Hello everyone! So I said that I would eventually get around to filling you all in on the craziness that has been my life for the last few months, and as we all know, if there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s fulfilling vague committments to people over the internet….right? RIGHT?? 
Okay, so I have a tendency to disappear into the mist (both figuratively and literally, damn poor eyesight). Basically, stuff happened. We cool? Okay, thanks, bye.

Oh, you want more detail? Well, first things first: I got a job. Remember way back when I was unemployed and perfecting my impression of a duck using a mixture pringles and low self-esteem? Well, I finally got myself out of that rut.

   
                                                   
My reaction was quite bittersweet. Yes, I finally had secured employment after almost six months of what I can only describe as the worst period of my life thus far. I had been filled with self-loathing and despair and I genuinely feared that I would never teach again. To return to a school that I had already taught in (and adored) was the proverbial cherry on top…or, you know, in my case literal, as I celebrated with much cake. Much cake. 

So that was the sweet, why the bitter? Well, I’ve had to move almost four hours away from my fiancé and my pets, a.k.a. my reasons for living.
 
                                                                    

The job is only temporary, but it has been really difficult for us both. I try to focus on the positives though; I absolutely love the school I am in and I get to do what I love every single day…(in this instance, I mean teach, although I may also mean robot dancing…)I also get to see much more of my friends and family (the job is back home where I grew up) which is always a bonus.

The last few months have been difficult in many ways, however. My general health hasn’t been great, though I attribute that mainly to stress. I also found out in December that a past pupil of mine, whom I was very fond of, passed away in a tragic car accident. I suppose sometimes, all these challenges and unfortunate incidents come at once and they really are a test of character for us, aren’t they? I have been feeling much better lately though. Teaching really does help me, it’s what I feel I am meant to be doing and that gives me great comfort. My relationship with Jack has also strengthened because of our time apart, because let’s face it, I am a gigantic pain in the ass who enjoys yodelling and eating tuna melts. SOMETIMES AT THE SAME TIME.
Anyway, me me me right?! Bleurgh! Tell me about YOU! How have you been? Where have you been? What have you been up to? Come say hello!

Oh quick p.s. also…can anyone tell me where Rob from the v-Pub went? I’ve noticed his site is gone?? Thanks:)
 

                                                                           
 

 

Being a Teacher

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Source
Teachers in Ireland (and indeed in many countries) get a really hard time. In terms of public perception, we rank somewhere between politicians and circus clowns. Many people assume we are greedy, lazy and that the interests of the students are the furthest things from our self centred minds.

I’m not writing this piece to defend the teaching profession, per se. I’m writing this to frankly and honestly discuss my personal experience with teaching and what being a teacher means to me. It is an incredibly difficult and challenging job in itself, and the constant public derision certainly does nothing to help. I would love to say that it doesn’t bother me; that the most important thing is my own dedication to the profession and that baseless criticisms from people ignorant of the career shouldn’t matter but…well, after a while, you start to have doubts. When people say teachers are lazy, you start to question your own work ethic. When people say teachers are only interested in their pay packet, you start to wonder if maybe there is some truth in that.

I have been guilty of previously making these assumptions myself. When I was in the early years of secondary school, I had little respect for the profession. Like many students, I had good teachers and bad teachers. Unfortunately, it is the “bad” teachers that stand out. When I say bad teacher, I’m referring to those who act unprofessionally and who have little or no passion left for their job. I’ve heard of teachers who didn’t know their students names after two years, who smelled of alcohol in class, who had little knowledge of their respective subjects or who flew into unprovoked and scathing attacks on particular students in my class. I’ve spoken to many people who were only too happy to regale me with tales of incompetent teachers. I’m sure you too, dear reader, have experienced teachers whose methods left a lot to be desired. But we can also agree that we have all had motivational, inspiring and capable teachers who have invested their best efforts and time into helping us to realise our full potential. I also think it’s fair to say that every school I have been in, either as a student or as a teacher, has had a large majority of brilliant and dynamic teachers. There is a rising standard of professionalism that ensures the very best teachers are emerging from training courses. The problem is, we tend to focus on the minority that bring the profession into disrepute.

It wasn’t until I was nearing the end of my time at school that I began to really appreciate my teachers. My worst subject, without a doubt, was maths. I lacked motivation and I didn’t really care if I did poorly in my final maths exam, as the outcome of that particular exam wouldn’t have affected my chances of getting into university. My teacher had other ideas. She didn’t care that I wasn’t aiming high. She refused to let me fall behind or slink to the back of the class and secretly read Jane Eyre. She was on my case day in, day out. If I didn’t understand something, I couldn’t pretend that I did. She knew I was lying. She would keep repeating the methodology of a sum until it clicked with us. She would give up her breaks and her free time to offer us free tuition. And in the final exam, I got an A. An A in a subject I had previously despised and feared. That grade made me realise that hard work and effort does pay off and it gave me a confidence in my own abilities that I have never forgotten. I also haven’t forgotten that teacher; a woman so dedicated to her profession I’m sure she must suffer from a permanent exhaustion that is only challenged by her unwearied assiduity to her students.

There were other good teachers too. There were those who made me laugh and who sparked interests in me that I don’t think any book or film could have. I started to realise that my teachers were having a massive (and very positive) impact on my life and were helping to shape my future in a way that I could never have imagined. That’s when I decided that if I could have such a positive impact on someone’s life, I would have found my dream career. I knew teaching would be a challenging career, but I also knew that it would make me happy, and that I could help students to learn new things every day, not only about the world around them, but also about themselves. This may sound cheesy, disingenuous even, but it’s the truth.

I studied hard to become a teacher. I did a three year degree course in my subjects. I then studied for a Master’s Degree. After that, I studied for my teaching diploma. During this time, I was supervised in my teaching by a former school principal who critiqued my methods with honesty. It was a very intense year, and I can safely say that it was the most challenging experience of my life (I also had to contend with a lot of personal and medical issues).

At the moment, I have been qualified for three years. I’m working in a sometimes difficult environment, where many of the students are unmotivated and ill-disciplined. I like the school I am in (the management and staff are superb) but I have shed tears, I have been ill from stress and I have had many sleepless nights. I have mounds of paper work to contend with, difficult classes and demanding parents. I’m not just speaking for myself here, I’m speaking for all teachers. Yes, classroom engagement time (contracted hours) might be minimal when compared to other jobs, but there is more to teaching than that.

The preparation that goes into a week of classes is immense. There’s also the assessment of our students’ work which takes up much of our evenings and weekends. All of this I can handle, as it’s part of the job and we must accept that. In Ireland, we are also expected to do unpaid overtime, thirty three hours a year to be exact (depending on your timetable), which had led to feelings of resentment surfacing in many teachers. We are also routinely inspected, which is fair and of course standard practice in many jobs, but it just adds to the pressure that is already placed on teachers by society at large.

This week alone, I’ve had a student run out of my class sobbing (a close friend of hers died and she’s finding it difficult to cope), a student get injured in the hallway, given detention three times, met a concerned parent, have a difference of opinion with a colleague about a particular student, refer another student for counselling…I could go on. What am I saying all this for? What am I hoping to achieve? I understand that there are many jobs where employees experience far more stress than I do. There are amazing doctors, policemen and women, firemen and women and nurses that provide such important and potentially life-saving services everyday. The thing is, I would never think of denigrating any of these careers. I know that teachers don’t save lives (usually), but I would like to think that we influence the outcome of some lives in a positive manner.

Despite all the disparaging comments that I hear (by the media, but also by people I know quite well), I wouldn’t change anything about my career. The other day, a student I have was struggling to understand what the different poetic terms were (alliteration, onomatopoeia, simile, etc). I spent two classes explaining until finally he excitedly exclaimed “I get them, I get them ALL!” Seeing that “eureka” moment in a student is truly rewarding and it makes everything worthwhile. It makes me realise that the profession is bigger than my insecurities. It’s about the students. It’s about their potential. It’s about guiding and helping and being a positive influence. I’m learning to deflect the negativity and to remember why I decided to peruse this career: I wanted to make a difference to someone’s life. Even if it’s just a handful of people over my entire careers, I’ll still be proud.

Teenagers say the darndest things

The funniest thing happened a few years back with a student that I felt I had to share. Here is pretty much the conversation:

Me: So, Sarah*, I need to talk to you about your story.

Sarah: Am I in trouble miss?

Me: Well, it’s just that… your central character…

Sarah: Oh miss, I worked so hard on him. I wanted to create a complex hero; a kind of a Mr. Darcy, but kinder. It’s so cheesy miss, but I created what I feel would be the perfect boyfriend.

Me: But his name…

Sarah: Well, I chose ‘Ted’ because I thought it was kind of a cute name. He’s an everyday guy.

Me: So you’re telling me this was an accident?

Sarah: What? The name? Like I said, I chose ‘Ted’ because it’s a cute name and then I was looking around my kitchen and I saw a packet of hotdog buns called ‘Bundy’s’ and I thought ‘Ted Bundy’ has a certain charm.

Me: Erm, not quite Sarah. Ted Bundy was one of the most famous serial killers of the twentieth century.

Sarah: WHAT?! I thought it sounded familiar alright. Oh my god, sorry miss.

Me: No, no. I mean, your Ted is lovely. It was just hard to take the bit where he takes his mother out for dinner seriously when all I could picture was the cold hard stare of a prolific serial killer…and then there was the part where he saved that puppy from the pound and I actually wanted to dive into the story and save the puppy.

Sarah: Can I have the story back so I can change his name?

Me: Yes, just stay away from ‘Adolf Hitler’ ok?

I just love my students.
*Name changed

What you’ve been DYING to know

I fear it might be slightly vainglorious to write an ‘about me’ entry but I’ve garnered a few new followers and lets face it, my ‘about me’ section is fairly lacking in information because I substituted an attempt at humour for actual relevancy so…

~Well firstly, I’m a girl. Or more accurately, a woman. But I don’t like calling myself a woman because it suggests that I have to be all mature, sexy and grown up. At the moment, I’m on a recliner, wearing my boyfriend’s jumper and I just giggled at the word ‘horn’ on television, so I’m not sure I can call myself a woman. Maybe ‘old girl’… Nope, that makes me sound like a beat up ’54 Chevvy.

~I live in Ireland. I lived way down south but I moved a long way from home with my boyfriend because I got a job in a school up here. We do love it here, but we don’t know anyone so we are slightly lonely. I may have resorted to doing this last week:

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from timberwolfhq.com

~I’m a teacher. I teach English and history to secondary school students. I love my job but I’m not going to lie, my voice is already hoarse. And yes, it is kinda like ‘Dangerous Minds’.

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~I live with a wonderful guy called Jack who is doing a PhD and is so much more clever than me. No, he didn’t pay me to say that. He’s also handsome and kind (he did pay me for that). We’ve been together for nearly eleven years. Our relationship mostly revolves around us watching tv and making fun of each other.

~We have two dogs: Molly (a Border Collie) and Oscar (a Westie). We also have a cat, Billie, and four guinea pigs: Dolly, Emmy-Lou, Coco and Stevie. I love them all like they’re my kids. Who am I kidding? They are my kids. Get away from me with that giant net.

~I went to college for five years. I have a BA in English and history. I have an MA in International Relations and I have a Postgraduate Diploma in Education. You would think my blog would be slightly more intellectual but nope, I prefer to write about farting.

~No one, except Jack, knows that I have this blog which is why you won’t see any pictures of me, at least for a while. Just picture Cindy Crawford. Yeah, I look nothing like that.

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from Wikipedia

~My real name is not Jane. Sorry. But you can imagine it to be something much more interesting: like Champagne or Chaniqua.

~I used to suffer from Temporal Lobe Epilepsy which I have to admit, was pretty craptacular.
I experienced terrible bouts of depression, déjà vu and I had a terrible seizure in 2009 that resulted in a prolonged hospital stay.
I’ve been off my meds for over a year and I’ve been seizure free for four. It has affected my memory though, which is why my friends sometimes call me ‘Dory’ (the little fish from ‘Finding Nemo’).

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~I like film, poetry, reading, music, writing down all the weird thoughts my brain sends me and rolling around the floor with my pets being normal.

So now that we’re friends, why don’t you tell me something about yourself?

Sidenote: I know I’ve been producing blog entries at an insane rate (picture me looking like Howard Hughes and laughing manically) but it’s because I’m on holidays from school. Anyone thinking ‘calm down there, lil lady’ don’t fret, I’ll be back to school soon and my posts will be less frequent(ly annoying).