Drivel Alert

The gray dusk outside my windown fits my mood perfectly this afternoon. I feel utterly defeated, and today's drizzle is making sure I stay that way. Oh for a forsythia bush to explode into bloom about now...

Things are going well with my classes, knock on wood. The students are all enjoying the book we're reading, Lay That Trumpet in Our Hands. The expressions of sheer, total boredom on their faces were apparently to deceive me. (I was so desperate, I flat out asked, "So, do you guys hate this book or what?" The explosion of "no's!" was wonderful.) Every class sat and argued in their groups for five minutes today about who the most important minor character is, and every kid had an opinion that they wanted to back up. Which is good, because that's the essay assignment...

I have a student who told me that she can't live without me, and I can't be absent anymore (I missed a day last week due to a bug). That's always nice to hear, especially since I love this kid dearly.

What's my problem, you might ask. I can't seem to shake the feeling that everything I believe in about education is anathema to the school where I teach. Joy? Fun? Love of reading, writing and learning? THEY'RE NOT TESTED ON MCAS, SILLY WOMAN! And not only is what I believe completely off the radar for everyone who makes the major decisions, but the teachers in our school who traumatize kids--embarrass them in front of peers, tell them they're stupid, etc.--THEY win awards. Go figure. I'm so bleah I can barely hold my head up. It sure would be nice to teach in a place where kids, their learning, and good teachers are valued.

On a happy note, Larry and I are probably going to go see Montana this weekend in our push to be chosen as his "adoptive parents." I'm all for shameless self-promotion if it means this puppy can come home with us.