I’m telling myself that this is my last year, which I said last year. But this year makes more sense. I’m on track to get vested in March of next year, a carrot for my pension. I am sufficient if not good, and even though they’ve given me bad ratings, I feel like that’s just been politics and it certainly doesn’t amount to any real gauge of my teaching talent. I’ve seen how the books are cooked and I know where all the bodies are buried. I’m not political, I don’t kiss ass/suffer fools well, and it seems as if Education is about as enamored of me as I am of it.
The job is thankless and grueling. The vacations are great. The greatness of vacations reigns supreme and paramount when juxtaposed against the gig. There are intermittent moments of fulfillment when you are able to screen out all the bullsh*t and the fulfilling stuff comes through. There are moments of support where the wind is at your sails. Some years have been awesome, and others crappy. Most recently, crappy. But tomorrow starts another academic year. Last year I didn’t have my own classroom. This year, I’m supposed to but who knows?
Optimist that I am, I’m going to try to express some of that in this blog, which will now start chronicling, sans filter, my perceptions and experiences of this intended last year of my almost 10-year long teaching career.