156 Days to go.
- 156 people died in the ferry boat disaster off South Korea on 4/23/14.
.
Today at 4PM is the last day I will have to realize the weekend is over and I will be back to the grind tomorrow. It seems almost unreal that there is only one more week of school. At the beginning of the year in August, June 13th is too hard to even imagine. Almost as far off as 156 Sundays from now. As unreal as imagining an America middle class that has not been ruined by the Republicans and their giveaway of our nation’s wealth to the corporations and the richest 1%.
But it is almost here. One week to go. Little markers start occurring to me, like tomorrow will be the last time, my wonderful wife and I will have to drag our carcasses up on a Monday morning. Monday will be the last full day before minimum days the rest of the week. I have already started dividing the day into fractions. I had a lesson with my 3rd graders showing them the full hours of the day we are in school, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 1, and 2. Then we brainstormed what each hour’s fraction would be if we broke the day into fractions. It is on a chart in front of the class. Every hour they can raise their hand and say, “Mr. Smirthwaite, there is now only four and two-thirds days left in the school year.” They’re pretty excited about it too knowing they only have 4 and 2/3 days of dealing with Mr. Smirthwaite. Actually I’m always surprised at what a high percentage of kids are dreading the end of the year. I’m a hard task master and I drive them pretty hard. But I’ve found that children prefer a disciplined class setting with a strict teacher. The rules are well-defined and strictly followed and they find comfort in that. Some of their home situations are all over the map and my class is the only security some of them have. At the end of the year some of them are crying and don’t want to leave. This year might be especially hard since I have had some of them for two years. I was moved from 2nd to 3rd last year and “looped” the majority of them.
I appreciate that teachers get 2 and half months off during the summer. I got into teaching late when I was 37 years old. My wonderful life had been teaching since she got out of school while I had office jobs. Always used to be jealous in the summer that my carcass was still having to be dragged out of bed while she got to stay there. I understood that she earned it and seriously, the same gig and summers off was open to me. I just had to go back to school after a four year degree and go to another 2 years full-time to get a teaching credential. Then I had to face the rigorous pressures of teaching and the pressure of being responsible for the safety of 26 children as well as the endless daily lesson preparations. Then I had to go there and actually handle a class all day and deliver a challenging curriculum to children who frankly would rather be outside screaming their heads off or playing video games. The same “cushy” 2 and a half months a year off is available to everyone. Well not for long if the republicans and the rich they serve are able to privatize it and make a profit off it. Then we’ll have the same gig only two hours of class time longer, do it 48 weeks out of the year, for zero benefits, no chance of retirement, at minimum wage and be made to feel grateful for being screwed over. We’ll have the same restrictions if not more of how we can teach. And if we don’t like it we can quit and go work at 7-11. Of course the quality of teaching will disappear because only someone insane would want to go through that. Teachers are dedicated but we all have our limits.
The last week is no cakewalk despite the minimum days of actual instructional time. The preparation is the same. I teach until the end of the last day. Some teachers cut back a little and try to do more fun activities but I find the children can sense that and their behavior begins to go south. I lead them to believe that every lesson counts even though their grades are already being determined. They have to be entered into the computer on Wednesday to be run off and passed out on Friday. On the last day in fact, I’m giving a spelling test and they think its going to make or break them passing on to the next grade.
There is a little bit of fun. Tomorrow we are going on a walking field trip to the park for an end of the year celebration and picnic. We make a year book that has a lot of room for their creative illustrations. They think they’re really getting away with something. I let them sit with their friends as long as they can work quietly. We have more enjoyable writing prompts. I’m busy going through my files, organizing my cabinets and putting together their grades. Every once in a while, I stop and give a student who is getting a little boisterous my best Mr. Smithwaite glare. He or she feels the heat and settles down. That’s when a strong and consistently reinforced behavior management system pays off. I don’t have to scream and yell. A quick, serious teacher look is all that is necessary. He or she goes back to what the student should have been doing in the first place and I’m done.
The last day is just a whirlwind. On the drive to school, my wife and I usually listen to a public radio jazz station or a classical radio station. We both cannot stand the man and woman radio team banter about the Kardassians or the shockrock DJ delivery. But we found this public radio station that plays Hawaiian music on Fridays. At 7AM they always lead with a song called “Aloha Friday.” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kOvS34KxsQU The chorus goes “It’s Aloha Friday. No work til Monday.” The last day we’ll sing, “It’s Aloha Friday. No work til August.” And we’ll laugh like we’re listening to a Richard Pryor stand up. We’ll laugh until my wonderful and careful wife realizes I’m occupying two lanes from being doubled over, people are honking at me and she has to snap me back to reality.
Once the day begins the students have some seat work and some fun activities and I’m a duck. Calm and controlled on top of the water for the benefit of a calm classroom. Underneath, I’m paddling like hell because I have a million things to complete and barely enough time to do it. Somehow it all gets done. The last half hour, we empty and clean our desks, push them all to one side for the custodians and their summer cleaning. We then gather around Mr. Smirthwaite for one last speech. I tell them how proud I am, how much they’ve grown and I always at some point turn on the water works. I get choked up and no matter how much I try I cannot control it. I know its coming but I still get choked up, can’t finish a sentence, start again, sputter again and the kids are staring at me like I’m some sort of freak. And I am. But its good for children to see a man get emotional and cry and tell them how much he cares about them. The one line that always opens up the floodgates for me is when I say, “and next year I hope you come back to visit me. Because at that point I won’t be your teacher anymore, I’ll be your friend.” We all have a group hug and rain a few more tears and suddenly its over. Incredibly, the whole thing is over. I straighten some last minute things, shove and cram loose ends into closets and cabinets and close the locked door behind me. I turn in my keys to the secretary and walk out to my car. It is a bizarre feeling pulling out of my parking space and leaving the parking lot. I turn right and head for my wonderful wife’s school. It’s over. It’s really over. I can’t believe it. I made it another year.
200 Sundays to Go 