They changed my email today.
And that is how it hit home. An email from some dude, meant for his colleagues, about how he wants me to pray for his daughter. Seemed a bit random and too personal, so I looked in the address box to see how it was sent to me. And it wasn't addressed to me, but was grouped "all______workers". So I have been moved on the email system. I had to go to the address book to check.
And yeah, I knew . . . and the union wasn't helping . . . and this is all happening for a REASON, some plan that they won't share. But it wasn't really, real until that email. Because someone had to go somewhere and talk to someone to get that changed. Tech department people.
And so I did today what I was resisting. I emptied out my desk. And cried. And then I stopped. Pulled it together and started cleaning out the cabinet with all of my containers. Just dumped the stuff out of them and piled up the containers. Which I was avoiding, because when this got "fixed" I didn't want to have to put everything BACK into a container.
Removed all that I had purchased for my classroom over the years. And the cabinet is surprisingly empty. Tomorrow I will move magazines . . . glasswear that I saved from the dumpster . . . Mirrors that I purchased from the dollar store . . . cardboard that I carefully collected in case I ever wanted to do printmaking . . . My desk fit into two small bins. I left a broken camera and some dry eraser markers that I didn't want to pack because they weren't in a box . . . which much more than anyone left me. I plan to be out by the end of next week.
So this new chapter is happening. There will be no coming to their senses. No realizing how much I have done for them over the years. No changing their minds.
And I had accepted leaving. I was EXCITED about finding another job and leaving. But I really thought they would come to their senses, so I could be comfortable until I left. And that is my selfishness. My flaw.
I am a great art teacher. I am a great teacher. And everything is going to be alright.
I will miss my students. I know I made a difference. And the people that walked down to the tech department will realize that . . . eventually. And I just have to do the best job with what I have . . .
And that is how it hit home. An email from some dude, meant for his colleagues, about how he wants me to pray for his daughter. Seemed a bit random and too personal, so I looked in the address box to see how it was sent to me. And it wasn't addressed to me, but was grouped "all______workers". So I have been moved on the email system. I had to go to the address book to check.
And yeah, I knew . . . and the union wasn't helping . . . and this is all happening for a REASON, some plan that they won't share. But it wasn't really, real until that email. Because someone had to go somewhere and talk to someone to get that changed. Tech department people.
And so I did today what I was resisting. I emptied out my desk. And cried. And then I stopped. Pulled it together and started cleaning out the cabinet with all of my containers. Just dumped the stuff out of them and piled up the containers. Which I was avoiding, because when this got "fixed" I didn't want to have to put everything BACK into a container.
Removed all that I had purchased for my classroom over the years. And the cabinet is surprisingly empty. Tomorrow I will move magazines . . . glasswear that I saved from the dumpster . . . Mirrors that I purchased from the dollar store . . . cardboard that I carefully collected in case I ever wanted to do printmaking . . . My desk fit into two small bins. I left a broken camera and some dry eraser markers that I didn't want to pack because they weren't in a box . . . which much more than anyone left me. I plan to be out by the end of next week.
So this new chapter is happening. There will be no coming to their senses. No realizing how much I have done for them over the years. No changing their minds.
And I had accepted leaving. I was EXCITED about finding another job and leaving. But I really thought they would come to their senses, so I could be comfortable until I left. And that is my selfishness. My flaw.
I am a great art teacher. I am a great teacher. And everything is going to be alright.
I will miss my students. I know I made a difference. And the people that walked down to the tech department will realize that . . . eventually. And I just have to do the best job with what I have . . .
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