Days Off

I have a day off today. Friends and family have asked what I'm going to do on my day off. As I write, it's 9:00 a.m., and I'm officially 1 hour and 45 minutes into my day off. And I've done nothing school-y yet, except check my email. That will change soon. I have a list.

Today I've got some correcting to do. Unlike my bestie, who had oodles of papers to grade this weekend and even posted a photo of the stack of Facebook, I got lucky this weekend. I only have quizzes and reader responses to assess. Only. Then I've got some reading homework to do. I've joined a regional book club on teaching English Language Learners, and we meet next week, so I need to do that reading and write a response for that. Sure, it's voluntary, but I'm participating for two reasons: 1) to better my understanding of ELLs and how they learn best, and 2) for formalizing my professional development. Gotta keep accruing those CEUs. Then I've got to write my syllabi for the next three weeks in my five classes. It'll be tricky because standardized testing begins in March and daily schedules are changed, classes are shortened and lengthened, and my classes will be meeting in other classrooms than mine. After that, I will set up my next round of parent video conferences, part of my professional goal for the year. After that, I need to write a bunch of emails and do some research for a project that the school counselor and I are collaborating on for the ninth-graders. After that, I will hopefully have time to work on my part of a conference workshop an out-of-district colleague and I are presenting at the end of March. Then hopefully I will get to work on a new assessment project for The Odyssey that I dreamed up last week.

After that, I might be able to do what a lot of other people do on days off: not-work-stuff.

Some people may never understand why teachers (and students) need breaks. They may argue that we are highly-paid for "having summers off." I don't want this to become a forum for debate, particularly. I've intentionally refrained from politicizing this blog. But days off are not that for us. Not during the school year, when weekends are extensions of weekdays. And so summer becomes the time when we can go correcting-free and daily-planning-free, at the very least. Of course, most of us also spend our summers long-term planning, taking classes and courses, attending workshops, writing curriculum, or completing professional reading. Some of us teach summer school, or work at summer camps, or run other summer programs. Some of us work full-time at second jobs. Some of us full-time parent our school-aged children.   All of us use the summer to think deeply about our work, to re-visit, review, and revise our lessons or methodologies, and to plan, plan, plan for next year.

So on this day off, my list is full. I think I'll squeeze in one more thing, though: think about summer. Check.

Avoiding the Flu

I'm 20 years into my teaching career, and after the last batch of essays I corrected before winter break, I realized I might have finally figured out how to get them all done and not feel like I'd been run over by a Mack truck in the process. You may be thinking, "Don't we reserve that Mack truck metaphor for the flu?!" Or you may be thinking, "Hey, that's how I feel after correcting, too!!" Well, assessing papers, tests, quizzes, homework, projects, and labs is flu-like, or at least, it can be. Here's how I avoid catching the bug:

I remember that I am susceptible, and I prepare. Every fall, I line up with my colleagues at our local firehouse, roll up my sleeve, and receive my yearly flu shot. Likewise, I prepare for correcting, too; I schedule long-term assignments not only in line with the curriculum, but also in line with my life outside of school (this can be a bit tricky, and may require some creative manipulation - of what, I will let you determine). And then I reserve those weekends, or those evenings, for correcting. This is a part of teaching that the rest of the world doesn't see (unless you've got a teacher in your family), and a part that some of us seem to resent, but weekend and nightly work is how I validate my summers off. And this way, I can reserve long weekends for myself if I wish (or use that extra day for correcting, sometimes), or specific nights to be work-free, or times around holidays left open for celebration. I try not to be caught unawares, but rather girded for the long haul.

I have seen the enemy, and it is I. During flu season, I wash my hands frequently and use the hand sanitizer I keep on my desk. I stay rested, take my vitamins (I swear they help), and steer clear of sneezers and coughers as much as possible. When I know I have correcting to do, I try to do the same - I recognize what will bring me down, and I avoid the pitfalls. To avoid procrastination (a paradox of sorts), I do some math (uh oh) and create a written schedule: by noon, then by 3:00 pm, then by dinner, I will have corrected x number of papers. I look at it frequently (often, admittedly, to double- or triple-check that I divided correctly). To avoid the achy frustration that comes after the fifth essay in a row isn't formatted properly, I find the essays that are, and I correct one or two of those. And to avoid the spiky fever of overwork, I set up a reward system: after x number of essays, I will take a walk, or eat my lunch, or read this or listen to this.

And when I'm done, I feel this incredible surge of energy, sort of like how I feel when I get through another week or month without getting what's going around. I might even praise myself out loud, or high-five myself in the mirror, or dance around a bit. It's a combination of oh-thank-goodness and damn-I'm-good. There's a heavy emphasis on relief, with some wood-knocking for future endeavors; I wouldn't want to be over-confident, ever. That's exactly when I'll get run over by that Mack truck, which I'm trying to avoid... like the plague.