i'm sure there's a passage about teacher inservice in the book of revelations
August 18, 2003, 8:04 pm

It had to eventually come to an end.

The summer is, officially, over.

I know all of you who aren't teachers are sitting there tapping your temples in an insane rage, saying to yourself Goddammit, Jess, what the hell? You teachers suck my working all year 'round ass! Complaining about going "back" to work after you just had a 54 day vacation? You've got to be kidding me!

If you're that guy right now, I'd like for you to think for a minute about any given vacation you have taken from your respectable place of employment. Have that in your head? Good. Now think about how much you dreaded going back to work after aforementioned vacation. Multiply that by 1,000. That's how teachers feel upon going back to school.

And yes, I'm well aware that I'm not winning any sympathy points from you, so I'll just shut up right now. Perhaps if you listen to what I had to endure today, well, maybe you think this whole working 50 weeks out of the year thing isn't so bad. Right.

Because my school is just incredibly special, we're involved in a school reform model that I like to call "Schools that Don't Exactly Work Because No One Knows What the Hell Is Going On or Buys Into It, Really." (Those educationally saavy amongst us probably have their own versions of this "school reform model".) Anyway, as part of this iniative, the teachers from my school were asked (very politely) to go back to school today instead of tomorrow. For our pains we were to be given lunch and a small stipend that may cover Friday happy hour at Fireside this week.

Had I spent the day inside, staring blankly at the living room wall and alternately picking my toenails, I would have considered today a far more productive one than what I had to sit through in my school's cafeteria. Jesus wept. Really.

The problem with all teachers is that we make the WORST audience in the world. If anyone giving a presentation to a group of teachers so much as falters in placing a transparency on an overhead projector, the collective sharp intake of breath can be so powerful it can suck up the presenter. I will never, ever understand WHY the state board of education insists upon hiring complete idiots to talk to teachers about teaching. We don't care what you have to say because chances are we can say it far better and in ten seconds. We are tired, cranky, and would much rather grade a stack full of papers than listen to idle prattling about data and test scores. Good teachers already intrinsically know this crap. Don't preach to me about the benefits of keeping students engaged when you've never seen me in action.

Megan and I made use of the day by doing the following: drawing ideal bridesmaid dresses, discussing the scandalous pregnancy of a co-worker (hint: the baby is NOT her soon-to-be ex-husband's), designing engagement rings, writing down funny things that Mrs. I-Have-Taught-Every-Class-in-the-World-Because-I'm-Ancient-and-I'm-Going-to-Keep-Talking-because-You'll-Listen said during the group discussion to share with a notably absent CNET tomorrow, eating free doughnuts and cookies (the diet is working well, thanks), and eyeing up potential suitors amongst the new-hires (status report: they're all married...and don't even say what I know you're about to say). I was relieved when our captors released us to the wild.

The building has been painted, including my classroom. The walls are stark white instead of vomit colored; the floor tiles have been buffed considerably and they're all shiny. I christened the shiny tiles by trying to move a desk and in doing so, removed a sizable chunk of blue tile from the floor. Oops.

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I haven't talked much about Coach Mike except to say that on the biggest day of his coaching career he took the time to nurse my fainting blood drive shell back to health, but I think I should. See, Coach Mike was in love with one of my pals who has left to be with her fiancee. My pal really dicked him over hardcore. I just talked to him for an hour about what an idiot she's been, not because she left, but because she let it go too far in the first place. He's a man about it, but he's understandably upset. I love a man who wears his heart on his sleeve, truly. I just talked to him for an hour about what an idiot she's been, not because she left, but because she let it go too far in the first place.

Same goes for Dave. He's being a man about the whole break-up thing. "Man," Dave said last week, "It's so much easier helping you people through this than to go through it yourself." Chin up, buddy.