Vacations are always tiring

It wasn't so much a vacation, but the trip back home to the prairies had a much more positive connotation this time... the marriage of my little sister.

K and I made it to Calgary on Tuesday evening and stayed with the in-laws Tuesday night. I'd wanted to go to the Zoo for a long time now, so we spent Wednesday touring the Calgary Zoo, hoping to catch a glimpse of this year's babies. Although the baby gorilla was in some sort of hiding from the crowds of zoo-goers, we did get to see the adorable baby elephant and a tonne of other cool animals. I was exhausted by the time we'd walked around the whole park, but it was well worth it.

After making it down to Bridge City that night, we spent the rest of the week eating, drinking, carousing and celebrating the fact that we were all together as a family on better terms. It was a week of celebrations that involved a lot of food, a LOT of beer and wine, and, last night, a HUGE amount of dancing. If you see K anytime in the next little while, she'll let you know. The speeches were touching, the groom sang a wonderful version of "I Wanna Grow Old With You", and we just had a great time seeing my little sister start a whole new family line. Congrats to the both of you crazy kids!

Alas, I had to return to reality on the Island in order to get to work tomorrow, so here I am, ready to turn into a pumpkin and head to bed. The joy and bliss of painting calls my name for another day, so off I run. Until again...

T

Coastal living

I'm officially out on the coast to work for the summer. Actually, I've been out for nearly two weeks, but there's no need to get caught up in the details. I'm here, and the weather is gorgeous and the ocean I miss so much is still here, so I shouldn't complain.

I'm back painting/training with the student painting company I've worked for in the past. Things have been going tolerably well, but I'm still having trouble hitting my groove. I think I'm just perpetually obsessive about getting things right, and in this line of piece-rate work, that's not really the best trait to have... financially speaking, anyways.

It's been fun living with SW and his lady... pretty chill, and there's always someone around to have a beer with. I'm still worried that I'm intruding into their world and throwing a wrench into the gears, but there have been enough interruptions that I don't think they're getting overwhelmed. I was gone last weekend and am leaving again on Tuesday, and by the time I get back they're going to be leaving for SE Asia after that for a month. Thus, just when they get all topped up with TM, off I go or off they go.

It's been a bit of a rough week and a half. After learning about my lack of work for September, I came out here to learn a few short days in that my grandfather passed away. So the following Friday (last week) I flew back to the prairies for the funeral and to spend time with the fam. That, along with the fact that work has been pretty "meh" so far and the fact that KM is a long way away makes it tough to be out here. Someone's always home, but I'm still feeling a bit lonely and sad at times.

Still, though, when I feel the ocean breeze on a sunny day and I don't fall off a ladder and I get a phone call from KM and there's beer in the fridge after a long day in the heat, life's not all that bad. It could definitely get worse, but I'm hoping it doesn't.

Until again, loyal readers (hi to both of you!),

T

So many things...

Life is sometimes (often?) overwhelming. It seems like I'm just being drilled with a million things at once right now, and I don't know where to put all of this emotional stress and energy. Just when I thought I could take my mind off work, I have a new job and a new location to worry about, and new employers and co-workers to please. I'm back in a town that I grew to call home, but after two years of being away, it's seems slightly strange... foreign. And I know I'm only here for 6 weeks or so, but it doesn't change the feeling that everything is just a bit foreign and although the streets still seem familiar, I feel like a sad nomad without a home.

And maintaining the sensation that nothing is solid or founded in stone, the rock of my paternal family has passed on. At 93 (0r 94?) years of age, my father's father, my grandfather, Joe Mrak has passed awau. I rationally understand that he was ready to go and he lived a good life so there's little to mourn, but knowing that he's gone is just another crack in the foundation of my world. Trying to talk to my dad over the phone from 500 miles away is even harder... how can I be strong when the superman of my world has been brought to sadness and tears?

Still, I remain here, looking out on the ocean, apart from my family, my wife, and the things I know so well... alone to deal with the world as it stands. When faced with everything uncertain, I just keep walking. Sometimes I get the feeling that if I stop, I won't want to start walking again... walking is sometimes the hardest thing to begin. So I simply don't stop. I don't often think of destinations... just motion.

T

Letting go

So often in life, we get caught up trying to control things that are out of our hands. I've been especially guilty of this over the previous few months, and I haven't really had the wisdom to see the difference between what is in my control and what isn't.

The big realization I've come to is that I just have to let go of the things that are out of my hands, and I keep thinking that I should've embraced the words of the "Serenity Prayer" long ago...

"God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
The courage to change the things I can,
And the wisdom to know the difference."

I can only do the best with what I'm given. And so, I let go and find some solace, all the while hoping (and in all reality knowing) that things will work out the way they need to work out.

- T

Ends

NOTE: In the editing process of this post, much of it was lost. I'm too lazy to type it up again, so ya'll will get the abbreviated version with a couple of pictures. My apologies...

My alarm went off at precisely 6:00am Saturday morning (8 days ago). I felt like I was already somewhat awake, anticipating what was to come. After showering, getting my clothes together and checking the abysmal weather forecast, I got K up and we headed out the door.

It was race day... I signed up for the race a few months ago and have been running a few times a week with my running group to train for it. Twenty-five kilometres of hills and trails lay before me, and although I was a bit nervous, I just wanted the rain to hold off and I simply wanted to finish.

K didn't stick around at the start... she wanted to get back to bed so she could come back and watch me finish. Luckily, a friend happened to show up and sign up for the race unexpectedly, so I hung with her for a little bit beforehand. We watched people slowly gather around the start lines and go through the regular pre-race motions of warming up and stretching and making sure shoes were tied and water bottles were filled.

After seeing some friends and acquaintances and making an attempt to mentally prepare myself, we toed the line and took off. Throughout the race, we battled mud and creek (the area has had huge amounts of rain lately, and the mountain runoff has been travelling down our formerly wonderful trails) and fatigue and hills... but I made it out alive. I was aiming to complete the course in around 2hrs 50mins, and my final time was 2:33:34... I blasted my hopes by nearly 17 minutes! I was pretty excited not only because I'd never run that far before, but I placed 12th overall out of nearly 50 people in my first ever trail race and I was in front of people who ran these races regularly throughout the year.

Good on ya, legs... you did good. (The time clock on the right is at 3:33:35... the 50k runners left at 7am and the 25k runners left at 8am... the time looks longer because of the earlier start time, just so you don't think I'm lying!).

The end of many chapters

The metaphor of reading a book and closing it's cover is definitely overused. However, it's used often because it seems so suitable. Just like the seasons, all things come to an end.

I have exactly 10 days of teaching left before final exams arrive for my classes. Therefore, each block of students only has 5 remaining classes until they are completely finished for the year (other than the final exam the following week). Not only is this ending, but so is rec volleyball (playoffs are on Wednesday) as it my training for my 25k trail race (takes place Saturday). By the time July hits, my weekly schedule will be blank. In many ways, it makes me sad... but in many ways, it can't come soon enough. I'm exhausted quite regularly, my marking pile never seems to disappear, and there's always some student problem to fix. Also, it seems like when I'm in the house, K isn't and vice versa and now that she's re-starting cardio bootcamp on Monday, she'll be starting up her busyness (not to mention her new job starts the same day).

I guess we're in a time of flux... we've become distant with the craziness of late, but I can only hope that summer brings sunshine, walks in the parks, and some time to find each other again. Sometimes it's just too easy to lose touch with everything important in life because we get so busy, well, living. Bring me the sunshiney days and starry nights and the loving eyes of the one I love.

T

The myth of stupid questions

As a teacher, I feel as though I need to clarify the age-old idea of "there are no stupid questions".


My response to this? It's B.S. Why do I think that? Let me tell you (in a round-about way that comes back to the question later...


Students can be lazy. No, not all students, and no, not all the time. But quite often, they're lazy. They want the teacher to do the work FOR them. They want to sit back and "learn" everything through some miraculous form of osmosis I've never encountered... it's like they'd be a great audience for that sort of hypnotic-like sleep learning where you play a CD with information on it while you sleep and when you awake... EUREKA! Brains!

I got in an argument with a student a few months ago about something similar. Yes, I realize that, as the adult in the situation, I should not argue with students. However, she insisted. She was upset that I was unfairly negative to her in class, and that I was always telling her that she was wrong. There was a long history of encounters behind this, but this was definitely one of them. And the thing is: I didn't deny it.

The reason I didn't deny it was because she was CONSTANTLY wrong. Or, at least off-topic. And I'm not the type of person to say that it might be her interpretation and that's fine, but I was looking for something else... I'm a bit more blunt as I want them to understand that it was a myth to believe that anything can be interpreted in any way and, in reality, there are a finite number of ways we can interpret literature. She didn't really appreciate this academic perspective and simply thought I was being "mean".

I'd ask a question about a topic and she'd put up her hand. When I called on her for a response, she'd often get away from the textual discussion at hand and dive into a personal tirade on what she believed. Now, I'm all for having beliefs... but they have their place, and the academic environment of literary analysis isn't it.

An example would go as follows: I begin to make a point that physical descriptions of characters in stories DO NOT dictate WHO the characters are or necessarily what they are like. Just because the character has blonde hair does not mean that the character has any characteristics that only blondes hold (Disclaimer: I'm very aware that some authors do, in fact, utilize physical descriptions in order to develop a certain facet of a personality. William Golding does this shamelessly in Lord of the Flies). However, I wanted to make the point that when we discuss character in a story, the physical description is generally meaningless unless the author intentionally connects the two. In essence, it was a discussion about stereotyping and unfair assumptions being made without evidence to support it, which is a much more universal lesson than they realize... we, as readers must rely on evidence from three main sources: what the character says, how the character acts, and what the other characters (or the narrator) say about the character in question.

I connected this to our real lives... I made a comment that, "Just because Joe-Blow dyes his hair doesn't mean I can assume anything about his personlity. I could, but I would be working on stereotypical assumptions. This is the same as saying this: Bobby-Lou has blonde hair so she must be unintelligent." So, my little friend put up her hand and said, "If you knew Joe-Blow, you'd know that the dye-job DOES say something about him." I conceded the fact that this was wholly possible, just like blonde girls can be unintelligent and skinny guys with glasses can be interested in Friday nights spent working out mathematical equations. I explained, though, that in literary analysis we cannot assume this and we MUST focus on evidence from the text. The same goes for life.

Did she just let it go? Nope. She kept on going. She explained that she could tell things about people by the way they dressed. I explained to her that she was starting to get away from the point and the whole problem with stereotypes is that they're often inaccurate or completely untrue. Did this deter her? Not a chance. She kept going, trying to convince me that everyone is limited to how they dress in her mind, so she should be able to talk about it in her paragraph. Just to be able to move on, I pointed out that the fact that she was simply wrong because it was a superficial assumption and she simply couldn't do so, especially in a liteary response. Her response? She got upset and started making rude comments about me to her friend.

There was also an essay written about a moral dilemma... we'd talked about moral dilemmas in a short story and then I gave them a news article, asking them if the man in the article SHOULD have received a reduced sentence in jail for carrying out a mercy killing on his daughter who suffered from cerebral palsy, constant pain, and had the developmental capacity of a three-month old (she was 12). In her essay, she made countless errors in various areas, and ended off by saying, "I know [the daughter] would have been sad to see her dad go to jail. And I know that God would have forgiven him, so why can't the government?" I explained that these personal assumptions were fine to hold in her own worldview, but their overtly personal and unfounded nature had no place in a formal persuasive essay. Her response? I was unfair and she could believe that if she wanted. Again, there was a complete disconnect between what the expectation of the assignment was and my explanation of instructions, and what she wanted to say and believe. This was only one episode out of many (so don't assume that I overreacted in one isolated situation), and although I could've borne a single confrontation, repeated challenges of this sort without a sincere interest in actually improving and understanding the perspective of the other person deflate me to the point where I find that I lose all patience in the matter.

It got me thinking about a lot of things, and frustrated me to no end. It made me realize that some kids don't want to learn or understand or improve their skills... they simply want someone to take their word for it... they don't understand that without an interest in understanding and learning from their mistakes (and they do, in fact, make many mistakes), they just won't improve and succeed.

This brings me the long way around to the quote I put up on the board in my room (I have a whiteboard behind my desk that I fill up with quotes about various things from famous people)...

"Some say that there are no stupid questions, but we must be quick to see the flaw in such reasoning... unless the question is asked with a sincere interest in the pursuit of truth and knowledge, all questions find futility."

I didn't attribute the quote to anyone, which surprisingly made the words garner more interest than most of my other quotes. A few students asked who said it... I simply responded with the question of, "what do you think?" Most said they liked it, and only then did I attribute the saying to someone... me (yes... this is a shameless celebration of my nugget of wisdom. Just passing it on)

:)

T

Days

I know pretty much nothing about Einstein's Theory of Relativity. However, I think today is one of those days that proves his theory. The influence of emotion and sensation on the human experience determines time, determines space, and so many other things. In all reality, it determines life. Today drags, and continues, and meanders miserably and slowly into the grey, overcast, Tuesday afternoon. The end of work signals nothing more than a transition to something else, but but the transition will only bring more slow movement... more silent voids.

Only anxiety remains strong.

T

The (in)ability to embrace uncertainty

Some days, I feel like a walking paradox. I need structure, but I rail against it. I need certainty, but I provide myself and others with none. I often despise ambiguity and just want it told to me straight, but I, myself, am ambiguous and ambivalent and I don't know what to do about it. I need control, but give it up to others regularly. I can take charge, but I don't mind being the sheep. I thrive in the quiet, but idleness makes me crazy. And I want patience from others, but I fail to be patient myself.

The previous few months have shown me exactly this. My last post likely hinted at it. I get inside my head and become trapped, uncertain, scratching to escape. I know I need to let go of things, but I hold on to them greedily, like a rottweiler. Can it be that I hold the key to my own imprisonment? If so, why do I insist on hiding my mode of escape?

I realize this is clear as mud and likely makes little sense to the three friends who continue to indulge this wholly egotistical practice of blogging, but we all need an outlet. Running has been one of the latest outlets, but I can only run so far and so long before body gives out and my mind remains. But the impulse to write stays strong, just as it did when I was just an angsty teen looking for an argument or some way to engage with the world around me. So I guess I'll keep on writing and trying to figure out my life. Pen to paper, foot to pavement... question to question to question...

T

The pursuit of tangibility

I have a fundamental flaw in my ability to believe. I'm a skeptic… a cynic… a person who is often unwilling to take things at face value. I need proof… something tangible I can hold in my hand, hold up against a light, sink my teeth into in order to prove its validity and value. At the end of the day I need something I can grab onto without doubt… if doubt exists for any reason, I may release it unto its own accord. Show me God and I will show you faith. Aye… but there's the rub.

How can any man believe without seeing… trust without knowing for certain? I need to see… to trust… to be shown. But what of faith? By definition, faith is not something proven, but something trusted without this structure… without proof… without the solid foundation of tangibility. It lies outside the human sensory experience and must exist intellectually. It is a time where we must abandon the "seeing is believing" mentality to dive head-first into the pool that is faith. Herein lies the problem. My problem? What if my pool of faith is too shallow for such diving? What if I feel as though my pool has been tainted… how does it become clean? I'm not sure if this will make sense, but is it even possible to taint such a pool? Is it possible to drain such a sea?

Not only do I feel a need for tangible proof in anything deemed suspicious or uncertain, but other areas of my neediness have created problems in my relationships as well. I'm quick to trust, but also quick to be cautious. I'm quick to love, but also quick to be critical. I give much of myself, but I also need reinforcement and support. It's like I'm extremely willing to empty the contents of my cup, but I'm also quick to need it refilled in return. I am not so selfless that I can give without receiving… I'm not referring to goods and things, but emotional needs. I give, but I must also get.

How do we go about releasing the anxiety related to losing sight of our faith to return to a place where faith is regained or rediscovered? I guess this is my path… my journey.

As C.S. Lewis said, "For the longest way round is the shortest way home."

T

Fighting the rain

The forecast wasn't wonderful. Leaving the house at 6:30am, I knew the cosmos may not conspire to give us sunshine, but I guess they were willing to conspire in one way. How was I to know that the conspiracy would feature rain and wind and more rain?

I shook out the nerves I was feeling as the race approached. After reaching the destination and hopping on the bus out to the start line, I could feel the nervous butterflies beating actively in my gut. "There's nothing to be nervous about... this is just for fun." It's funny how there are things you know... but all the knowing in the world can't help you shake the fact that you feel something else, contradictory and completely unavoidable.

We arrived and hopped off the bus, and I noticed that although it was obviously overcast and a bit chilly, rain was absent. It was dry on this part of the road, so I thought maybe, just maybe it wouldn't be too bad. I saw our fearless leader... the man who has been running my training clinic for the past few months, and you could sense the excitment in him. This was just another day on the road for him... another day to strap on the shoes and give 'er. I could sense his relaxation and thought again that there's nothing to be nervous about... just put one foot in front of the other and you'll be fine.

The race began and the action plan went through the window. I planned to start off at a slow pace... barely a jog, and pick it up a bit each kilometre. Unfortunately, my feet had other plans and within a minute I was striding at my typical pace comfortably. I knew this may not be the best idea, but sometimes I just let the feet do the talking. I'd never run a road race of this distance before, but I wasn't about to get in an argument with the things that were getting me home. I shut out the intimidation of the uber-runners with their fancy gear and years of experience, and simply put rubber to the pavement.

A few minutes later, the sky started changing and soon it was spitting. And the wind picked up slightly. And the spitting trickle turned into a more intense spray. And the spray turned into rain. By mile four, I was soaked. By mile five, I could hear sloshing in my shoes. And by mile six, I could feel my jacket collecting rain and become more heavy and begin to slowly shred my nipples, a layer of skin at a time. Because of this predicament, off came the jacket. But then it was cold. But at least my shirt wasn't moving around... I'd rather feel the slapping of my wet jacket against my legs than the uncomfortable burning sensation on my sensitive parts.

Needless to say, I slogged through the final four miles in some discomfort. I haven't discovered the joy of bodyglide quite yet, but an investment will be made soon. I ended up running the race in a respectable time (1:18:50), but I'm paying for it... sore chest (bleedy nipples), lower-back chafing, and some mild leg pain from I-have-no-idea what. But it's over and done with and I happy to say I did it. The route featured some fantastic scenery and I was pleased with my performance... my breathing and gait were contolled, the hills didn't bother me, and I think if the weather was better, I may have shaved off a number of minutes from my time. But, a pancake breakfast and some dry clothes at the finish did well to soothe the discomfort. Mmmm... pancakes.

I have another 5 weeks to go until the race I'm actually prepping for. I'm still somewhat scared because it's much longer (more than 1/2 marathon length), and there's a tonne of hills, but it should be a good test for me. And should be something I can be proud of for a while to come (as long as I don't die). I'd spend more time explaining my plans, but I've got a leg to ice.

T

Although I knew it had been looming...

... the anniversary has passed. This is a post from just over a year ago, when I lost one of my students from my practicum school.

RIP K.L.

T

The world of anxiety

It's that time of year again... posting season.

For the non-teachers out there, it is a time of importance only in the areas of getting outside and enjoying fresh air. Sure, for some it is the stressful time of tax season (or the release of stress post-tax-season), but for most persons in Canada, it's just a newly sunny time of year.

For new teachers, though, it's a time of year that is met with a combination of dread and excitement. When I say "posting", I mean the posting of new job opportunities. Gaaa!

Last week it began. It always starts with a round of jobs posted for those who already have (or are in a seniority level where they can apply for) continuing positions in this district. Many of these jobs have certain people in mind, and are posted in such a way that very few people (other than the anticipated prospect) would have the qualifications to take on the role. Examples are similar to this: "Secondary School looking for a qualified individual who can teach the following: senior English, Social Studies, Dance and Psychology". Or... "Senior Math teacher needed who can also teach Physical Education and Foods". Some are simply retirements and people leaving the district, but even those often have a certain someone special in mind.

Realistically, most people aren't qualified in all these random areas and the people that may be qualified are likely not interested in teaching such a smorgasboard of classes. However, the one person who the administrators have in mind IS looking for exactly this job, particularly since it's unlikely that all the necessary qualifications may not be needed when the teaching schedule gets finalized over the summer or early in the fall. Playing politics, people... that's what it is.

The problem with such a system is two-fold: A) You have to be willing to play into the system by doing a bit of sucking up and self-selling... and, B) you must rank high enough on the ladder to actually have the possibility of playing such games. I, my friends, have no such luck. I'm at the bottom of the pole. So, until the leftovers are offered to the non-humans (A.K.A. those without any seniority status), I will be waiting in painful agony for news about work. Likely, it'll be June 23rd before I hear anything solid. Until then, it's all just rumours and hopeful expectations.

On a brighter note (read two ways!), I'm running in a 10-Miler race down in the southern Okanagan on Sunday! It should be lots of fun and good opportunity to see how I do when I'm pushing myself a little bit. I haven't been doing any real road-running as of late, so this'll be a bit of a challenge. Still, there should be a handful of the runners from the running clinic participating, and it's a small crowd that participates. K won't be tagging along because she's abandoning me tomorrow to head down to sunny California with her mom for a family wedding. She's gone until Sunday afternoon, so I'll be zipping down to the Skaha region, running my race, and zipping back before she flies in (as long as I don't die on the course!). While she's gone, I'm going to be a busy boy... volleyball, running, a potluck, a birthday party... oh, and I guess a bit of teaching too... so much to do in so little time!

Hopefully I can actually get some sleep tonight so I'm not a total wreck for the rest of the week. As we all know, though, hope is a feathered thing my friends, so I guess we'll just have to see how it all comes out in the wash.

T

The existence of a twin...

What do shadows know of heartbeats? I think they only know of silence...

T

Sunny weekends and new shoes

It's been nearly 2 months since signing up for my local trail running clinic, and I have to say I'm enjoying it more and more. My participation has been greatly limited because of my busy schedule, but now that coaching is done until at least September, I have a bit of breathing room and some time to get out and train.

I was never a runner as a kid or teen... as a guy who suffered from exercise and allergen-induced asthma, I would start wheezing and hacking after about 5 minutes of sustained activity. I was always a bit out of shape because of this, and didn't ever consider myself particularly athletic... that title went to my older brother who played more sports and was better at them (except maybe badminton and golf... now, the golf thing is definitely in his favour). Not only was it laborious, but I was always quick to blame my struggles on the asthma and was never particularly interested in figuring out ways to get past them... it was always a crutch on which I readily leaned.

Since high school, though, my asthma symptoms have greatly faded to something that rarely bothers me. I suffer more from seasonal allergies now, but I've learned how to control my asthma through controlled breathing and I've got some pills to battle the sneezing and eye itchiness. So after being lazy and never doing anything more than once or twice-weekly rec volleyball, K and I did the two months of bootcamp last fall.

This was one of the best decisions I've ever made. Although we stopped going and bought gym memberships afterwards, I've been much more ambitious when it comes to personal fitness since we did it. And now that I'm running with an organized club and training for what I consider a "real" race (25k cross-country trail race in 6 weeks time), I probably feel better than ever. Sure, I haven't really done any cross-training or workouts since, well, January at the gym, the running thing is awesome. Yesterday we did over 2 hours and 16kms through a local creek greenway. One of the girls in the clinic took some pictures...

You may not have guessed, but I'm the one on the left. And there's more...

I was going to point out some serious irony in the next picture, but it's sideways and won't work very well. On the inside of each of these kilometre markers, they stamp a sponsor who maintains the trail. We began our run yesterday morning at the 8km marker, came to the end of the trail (the 16km marker) and ran back. The ironic part is this: the sponsor for Kilometre #16 is: Springfield Funeral Home! I guess I was a little nuts to do this cross-country running thing. But I thought it was hilarious.

Since I'm the youngest person participating in this training clinic and the only male that is actually training for the race (our fearless leader "D" is an ultra-marathon champ, is 60, and outruns me without any problems), I've needed to challenge myself, which is why "D" is such a good guy to have along... I need a chase rabbit, and he does a great job of doing just that.

I don't know how I'll finish at the race, but I'm hoping to do it in under 2 hours and 50 minutes. Is it realistic? I'm not too sure, but I think so. Regardless, the next 6 weeks are going to be full. Wish me luck.

T

Oh, and I forgot to show off my sweet new shoes!!!

Often

During my quiet days, my anti-social days, I often look back at my friendships, relationships and my interactions with my family and I get introspective. I wonder about whether or not I'm responsible for friendships that fell to the wayside or relationships that fizzled. I wonder who I hurt and who has hurt me... I know some of the hurt was unintentional... collateral damage for the situation. But other times, the hurt was due to carelessness, or immaturity, or disdain.


I also look back with a smile when I imagine some of the moments I've shared with people... watching the Northern Lights on the coulee edge with a close friend from University... sharing the perfect sunrise with someone new while extremely intoxicated during safe-grad... sharing moments of frustration with my travelling partners while navigating through a mysterious continent with what seemed to be an impossible language barrier... hiking to the top of a mountain without enough water and running the entire trail down to our stock of H2O... drinking wine for hours and talking about how lives become intertwined and how this moment in time was a conspiracy of the cosmos... talking to my wife while walking along the ocean or through a park, just trying to sort out our lives, all the while knowing that I have someone who will always listen and always forgive and who knows that even when I make mistakes that I have good intentions and I would never want to hurt her.

There are other moments... quieter moments I've spent alone, left to my own thoughts and my own devices. Strange moments where I feel lost, even in a familiar environment. Moments where I stare off into the distance or into the eyes of someone familiar, and suddenly things have changed. How, I cannot say. And moments where I write and feel like a poet who is all alone, even though I'm surrounded by people, realizing that lonliness has much more to do with our need to share than it does with our immediate environment and surroundings.

I changed the heading quote today after reading a story by an author named Jack Hodgins. I thought of my relationship with my parents and how it's transformed over the past 10 years, especially since moving away. Although I think I've acquired many of my mother's genetic traits, my father and I struggled to find common ground when I was younger because of our combined stubborness and our common need to be "right" in anything we did or said. Although I've learned how to reign in my stubborness more these days, I still have moments of weakness and I'm still easily frustrated by many things. I only hope that I become more flexible in years to come (even though I realize that the opposite is more likely). Dad and I still look at each other from across a metaphorical space of falling debris, but I know the space isn't nearly as wide as it once was, nor is the debris as dense. It felt like a chasm years ago... maybe it's simply as wide as the distance across a Sunday dinner table.

T

Adventures

This weekend marked the second-last week of coaching for the year for me. My buddy J (one of the other assistants) took our team down to the Fraser Valley for a tournament, and made a repeat in 5th place. The drive out there was splendid, and I'm still convinced that the drive between Cranbrook and Osoyoos, and between Hope and Chilliwack, are two of my favourite drives ever. The scenery was stunning, and I could've been content to simply drive back home after driving into the sunset on Friday night. I also got to meet up with a good friend from the coast for a drink at a pub close to the river, and it reminded me of home on Vancouver Island. I sure miss the coast.

Even though we could've turned around after the drive, we decided to stay for the weekend and the boys finished fifth. Provincials are coming up this coming weekend in North Vancouver, so I'm just excited to have it over and done with. For the first time all season, the entire coaching staff will be attending, which should help our team perform to their best ability. Although I'm happy that we're building toward a positive finish, it is the finish itself that I'm excited about.

School's been challenging lately, as I know my previous posts have related. I'm quite over-tired, and yesterday morning was possibly the most trying day I've faced all semester. It's still the same block that is giving me trouble, and the same girls that are causing me stress. However, it seems like I'll be able to much of the problem tomorrow by creating an independent working environment for one particularly toxic student, and I'm hoping that many of my problems will be solved. I also had to lay down the law on a regularly tardy and drama-filled student, which will hopefully have some productive results.

I explained to my afternoon block that my morning was challenging so I might have a bit of a short fuse, and they were happy to oblige and be as positive as possible. One student even brought me a small slush to brighten up my day. Another student saw the look of frustration in my eyes and said, "Mr. M, don't quit life". His words are now immortalized on the whiteboard I use for putting up inspiring quotations behind my desk.

Yesterday even started off with a mouse fiasco. K called me into the kitchen as I was getting out of the shower because she thought she heard a mouse. Well, this is episode #3 since moving away, and #2 here in the OK Valley. So, I went to investigate, and after realizing that he wasn't hiding in the stove drawer, that he was actually under the sink. It turns out that in the process of rummaging around in our recycling under the stove, the stupid thing managed to knock over a can which overturned on top of him and trapped him. The noise was him trying to get out. I tried to figure out what to do with him, but since I was running a bit late, I didn't have time to sort any action plan out, so I simply put a shoe on top of the can and left him there. When I got home last night, I thought he was dead (no noise in the can when moving it around). I thought I'd flush him but just as I went into the bathroom (with some cardboard over the can which I slid underneath to get him out from under the sink), he started scurrying around. Not wanting to risk letting him loose in the house and not wanting to drown him, I took him out to our patio, stood over the side, and sent him flying out into the parking lot. Don't worry... after a brief tumble, he got up and ran away.

Disaster averted.

Now I just have to battle another busy week and get as much marking done as possible (report card marks due by Friday!). Otherwise, I'm just hanging in there. I can't wait until this week is done. Until again, all...

T

Settling back in

Spring has sprung and after a hectic week following spring break, it seems like the kids have started to settle back into the typical school routine. For the first day since starting my new job, I had every one of my kids attend class in both blocks today. It was a bit of the ol' too good to be true (I had a student leave at the afternoon break), but overall I was pretty excited about the situation overall.

Things around the house have been pretty hectic lately. I'm still coaching, and we're into the final two weeks of our club season. Our guys are playing pretty well (placing 5th in the province at the most recent tournament), and they seem to be gelling as a team. I'm still struggling to become a voice of authority with them, because many of them still see me as the inexperienced friendly guy who helped coach them last year. I was very open about my inexperience with them last year, and some of them take this to mean that I don't know what I'm doing. Although I'm the first to admit I am still figuring things out as far as the coaching goes, my knowledge of the game is fair and I have a lot of playing experience. Being young doesn't help either. And both of these factors have played a role in players not wanting to listen to me as an authority figure when our head coach is absent.

The same has gone for parents... being young and inexperienced, I'm an easy target for disgruntled parents who think either their kids are the centre of the universe and expect me to believe the same, or that I'm simply incompetent and I couldn't coach a team to save my life. Just the other day, I ran into one of my player's parents... being congenial, I went up and made small-talk about him being at my schooling selling his wares (high school study guides), and it didn't take him long to launch into some heavy criticism about the way the team is being coached and the fact that his son (who is used to being the premiere player on the team) is splitting time equally with another player who plays the same position. In essence, he was mad that his kid wasn't on the floor at all times. He was especially critical of our most recent tournament (where, ironically, our team and the other setter had their best performances of the season so far) and that a number of parents were upset with the way we were running things. I found this doubly-interesting because of the fact that our head coach was away and myself and my buddy (one of the other assistants) were left to run the team. I explained to him that a) it was really late in the season to start bringing such things up and b) if he had any concerns that our head coach would happily discuss them. So, I emailed our head coach explaining the situation and he set up a time to meet with Mr. Parent. Did the parent show up? Nope. We had two practices on the weekend, and he was supposed to meet our head coach before the first. No show. He didn't show up for the next one either. There was no explanation or excuse. Just an absence. Like I said... I'm an easy target being young and inexperienced, and people who are willing to lose it on easy targets aren't so willing to face confrontation when it would be with a man of a similar age with 25 years of coaching experienced under his belt. Needless to say, I'm not too surprised. His kid is definitely one of the ones who has a problem listening to me. Hmmmmmm.

Other than coaching, I'm supposed to start playing spring league volleyball this week... I won't make it though, because Paul Brandt is in town and K is a big fan. Thus, I'm taking her for part of her birthday present. Then, on top of these two things, I also signed up for a 3 month trail running clinic that is set up to prepare us for THIS... a 25k trail race in June. So, I'm punishing myself for having a lazy winter by being a glutton for punishment. We run twice a week with a group and then have a training schedule set up for us on other days. Have I actually done more than one of the activities on the training plan other than the organized runs? Well, not yet, but I have high hopes! If I get out tomorrow, I'll be happy that it's a good start.

So, coaching, playing, and running (along with the normal obligations of teaching) are overwhelming me a bit, but I only have 2 more weeks (and travel-weekends) of coaching left and the other obligations are physical and not mental (as well as recreational), so I should be okay. Still... I have this tendancy of overloading myself from time to time, so for now I'm not going to do much else... just run, work, and play some ball.

K's busy too... she'll be starting a new job (well, same job, new advisors) in the next month, and she's off to LA for a cousin's wedding with her mom in May. Then we have my little sister's wedding in July, and some camping to do in the meantime. The sun has started shining pretty consistently and the mornings are warming up, so it's just a short while longer until summer's here to stay.

And it couldn't come quickly enough.

T

Months slipping by and the willingness to show up

Over the past year or two, I've come to realize that I'm a bit flighty.

Since graduating from high school, I've done a number of different things... travelling, working various jobs, changing universities, changing locations, etc. I've developed interests and temporary obsessions with a variety of things. Often, though, they're quickly abandoned. I guess I just get bored a little easily.

At one point in my life, I thought I had an addictive personality. However, I think it's more of an "infatuation personality"... I become really interested in a certain thing and immerse myself in it. Then, at one point, I stop doing it regularly and find less interest in it. In the beginning, I can't live without it. I crave it... need it. Soon, though, I abandon it like a couch in a back alley... I might see it out there in the cold as I look through the window over the kitchen sink and think about it... but I think to myself, "it's been a good run. It was fun while it lasted." After that, it's rarely thought of again.

I guess the same thing goes for the blog. Some days I feel an inner compulsion to share what's on my mind... I need other people to read what I write or listen to what I have to say. In truth, I know that very few people actually read this thing (thanks, K.S. and Cibi!), but the compulsion remains. Often, though, it's fleeting and will disappear altogether after a while. Like March, 2008. Although there was a lot of stuff going on in my less-than-exciting existence, I really felt no compulsion to write. And I even had two weeks of spring break. Did that change anything? Nopers. Not a word.

I think my wife should be truly happy with me... before we started dating, no girl had lasted past my 4.5 month curse (I didn't date a single girl for more than about 4.5 months before K got her hooks into me!). Not only am I happy, but I usually can't wait to see her at the end of my days and to wake up beside her every morning. Sure, sometimes I want to launch my coffee cup at her when we're in the throws of marital angst (which, of course, is inevitable), but it never makes me want to leave or give up. If anything, it just makes me want to show up more. We talked about it a few weeks ago... about the fact that love is only a fraction of the marriage... that marriage takes a tonne of work and how we assume most people underestimate that.

Somebody gave me a simple but effective piece of advice when I was getting overwhelmed during my practicum:

"The biggest thing is to keep showing up"

The times I've failed were the times when I just stopped showing up. Now, showing up goes beyond the physical... it involves the mental. I think this is one of the biggest challenges for the high school students (and teachers)... for some of them, the biggest challenge is actually making it to school. For the rest, it's showing up mentally. If they can show up mentally and engage in what's happening in the classroom, success follows almost unanimously.

The same thing is definitely true for relationships... showing up (and, of course, wanting to show up) is more than half the battle. Or, so it seems in my limited marital experience.

There's your change for a nickel. More on my actual life later (maybe in another month or two)...

T

Six weeks down (started about 2 weeks ago)

The teaching profession features (what seems like) few victories and many defeats. On certain days, no matter how many decent everyday kids are performing tolerably well in the class, one or two students can make a teacher feel completely hopeless and ineffective. I had one of thsee days recently, and wish I could rid myself of them altogether. I came home restless, and couldn't sleep... the whole night, I was dreaming of being constantly and overwhelmingly frustrated by confrontational and defiant attitudes and a complete refusal to work.

Such things are frustrating for the very fact that the minority generally spoil things for the rest of the decent kids. Many days, I realize that I need to be in control of my emotions and deal with everything with a cool head. Sometimes, though, it's difficult.

Beyond these generally minor troubles, the majority of my kids/classes have been quite good. I've definitely been able to convert a number of former Shakespeare-haters and turned them into lovers of The Bard. Now, I'm hoping that I can take credit for some of this, but that may not be the case. Regardless, it makes me happy.

These first six weeks have stormed by, and now the long haul to June begins. We just got back from two weeks of holidays, and I'm already exhausted. The worst part is, I know I won't be catching up on my sleep anytime soon. I'm stretching myself thin, and I feel as though a breaking point is coming soon. It's not like it's the first time I've felt this way, but at least I'm not panicked... yet, anyway.

Coaching is winding down, and a new season of rec-league volleyball is about to begin. I still have two more tournaments to coach (one of which I may bail on), and the end can't seem to come soon enough. I also signed up for a new trail-running training clinic that is prepping us for a mini-ultra trail race here in the sunny Okanagan in June. It's a 25k race through the hills and trees on hiking trails... and although I've never run in anything more than a 10k, I figured it would be a great way to get ready for the 1/2 marathon I was planning to race in the fall... have I gone a bit overboard? Methinks, well... maybe.

So, between teaching, coaching, running, and playing volleyball (oh yeah, I have a wife too), I'm definitely doing too much. Something's gotta give and it might be my sanity (or my marking load!)... if only I can get through the coaching, I may make it... the rest seems manageable. Three weeks seems like a long time from now, though. Lord help me...

T

The art of doing (very) little

My days have been quite full. It's been weeks since I've been able to sleep late and just spend a day doing nothing. Either work or coaching or errands have shouted my name throughout the weekend, and it was just getting a bit tiring. But today, my friends... today, I managed to accomplish just what I was hoping for... very little.

After waking up late (or late-ish), I spend the morning slowly washing dishes, drinking coffee, and just hanging out with K. It seems like we haven't seen each other in weeks, which is somewhat true (particularly this last week). K's been fighting an horrendous cold/cough/flu combination from being run-down and over-tired, and I know that this would be a terrible time to suffer from that same fate. Thus, I banished myself to the futon for a few nights to stay healthy and get some shut-eye.

I thought it would only be for a night... but K just kept on coughing and had the electric blanket on high (I can't sleep when I get too hot), so I kept on passing out in the spare room. I don't really mind much... she's able to sprawl and take advantage of some extra space, and I don't come down with whooping SARS or whatever it is she's been afflicted with. Also, the futon was my actual bed for the whole first year I was on the Island, so I sleep like a baby when I'm on it. It's definitely been a few years since it was home, that's for sure.

Last night, I tried to venture back into the bedroom... K had started to feel better, and her cough seemed to have calmed down, so into bed I climbed. Between the time I crawled in at about 11:00 and when I finally woke up for good at 12:47am, the coughing didn't cease. So, off to the futon I was (again). Still, though, I slept like the dead and crawled in with K about 8am when I knew the coughing had subsided long enough to get a few extra winks.

After finally getting out of bed, I made some coffee and started on the dishes. K woke up shortly thereafter, so I got her some coffee and breakfast, and worked my way through the mountain of dishes that had accumulated throughout the week. After getting tired of wet hands and having some breakky of my own, we lounged some more, watched some Harry Potter, made some lunch and finished that off with even more lounging. It was about 3pm before I had a shower. It was lovely.

K had a coffee date with a colleague, so I headed to the gym for the first time in a couple of weeks. Saturday afternoon is a great time to go... no waiting for equipment, no rush, no jostling for space... quite enjoyable. After working on some cardio and some core, I came home, made some delicious spaghetti, did some more dishes, and capped the night with a soothing class of peppermint tea and a cookie.

It's barely 10pm, and I'm ready to turn in. No more work for this guy... it would just be out of place. Tomorrow's schedule seems a bit more full... but hopefully, it can mimic today just a bit. Sometimes doing nothing is just about the perfect thing to do.

T

Staying ahead of the curve

At this junction in my life, I feel like I'm constantly fighting to stay ahead of the curve in any of my present ventures. I'm a new teacher, and it takes a tonne of time to stay on top of the kids and the material and make sense of what I'm trying to teach them. I'm also a new coach, so I'm trying to soak up as much information as possible in order to pass that on to my future players down the road. And since I'm still fairly young and new at the whole marriage thing (even though, realistically, by year two I feel like a seasoned vet), I'm still learning what it takes to have a solid relationhip. Every day is a new challenge on how to learn as much as possible and utilize what I learn in my day to day life.

Learning from a mentor coach has been extremely eye-opening thus far. I've learned about my faults and inabilities quite quickly working with A, who has almost as much coaching experience as I do life experience (which is intimidating on a number of levels). I keep thinking of the old adage, "The more I learn, the more I realize I don't know" (or something to that effect). Now, I'm not sure who said this, but there are few things in this world that are more true. Every day I work with him, I learn that I have a endlessly more to learn. I've also come to know my bad habits as a leader and a coach, and how my persona plays into the level of respect students/players have for me. So far, I've approached my classes and teams with a desire for them to know things about me and become friendly with me so they feel as though they're in a safe environment. However, A has really challenged this mentality and approaches the leadership position from a very different angle... one of disciplined aloofness... friendly, but distant always as a method of separation between the roles of teacher and student/player. Even though I'm not sure I'd be able to adopt the same approach, he's definitely developed an ability to handle kids in just this way.

I guess it's just being the new guy in town... everything I'm doing seems new, so it's a big challenge. I can only hope that I take in as much as possible and constantly improve. Some days I realize my work ethic prevents this, but I can still work towards improving. Always to improve...

T

Piles

When weeks like this arrive, I start thinking of Jenga. Piles of blocks, vicariously perched on one another. Just things piled on top of other things, with very little room in between.

I guess I should qualify this statement. I don't feel like my Jenga-world is going to suddenly topple to the ground. But this week has just been a bit hectic, and stressful, and there hasn't been any time to really step back. Being back in the classroom full-time is still a hard adjustment... so many more people have so many requests of me and my time and expectations of me and my abilities, and it seems to stretch a person thin.

Yesterday was just the epitome of such a day. I had to go in for my "New Teacher Orientation" yesterday morning, which is about, well, 3 weeks late. Still, one of my VP's wanted to get it done and make sure they went through the proper motions with me, so I met him yesterday morning before school. I figured it would take about 10 minutes. However, after waiting in his office for 10 minutes, we spent the next 45 going over the orientation checklist of every possible scenario I may run into throughout the school year. I'm a pretty resourceful guy, so I'd actually sorted all that out already, but we went through the motions anyway. Thus, it left me about 5 minutes to get my room ready for the animals.

I then ended up with only about 10 minutes of my lunch because of a student who was having some serious issues keeping up with the material in the classes, missing my meeting for a social justice group I thought I'd have time to help out with. After school, I cleaned up my stuff, did a bit of prep work, then had to book it home in time to get picked up for my rec-league volleyball which started at 6pm last night, which was followed by another game at a different school with a different team (helping out a friend who was short-handed), and finally had to take off to the University to coach from 8-10, getting home just after 10. K had to run out to the office to get something done that she forgot (at 9:30pm!), so I arrived home to an empty house, and upon her return, she had to fill me in on her stressful day.

By 11pm, I was about ready to pass out, so off to bed I went. It was just one of those days. Although today's a new day and a new start, I have to get home shortly after school to cook dinner and start cleaning the house, as K's mom is coming for out for a funeral and is staying at our place. Oh, did I mention that I have a Pro-D day tomorrow, and I'm leaving for the Fraser Valley at 4pm (immediately after the Pro-D) to coach at a tournament until Sunday night? Like I said... Jenga. Piles and piles. The holes? They must be the fatigue.

Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow.

T

New songs in my IPod...

Over the past few months, I've been adding a variety of new music to my IPod. It's quite varied, and because of this, the music I put on definitely depends on the mood I'm in.

Last night, on recommendation of a friend, I acquired some blues music from a musician named Harry Manx. Now, he's been around for decades, but from what I can tell, his music is seeing a bit of a renaissance. He played a show recently here in the Valley, and friends in attendance said it was wonderful. Typically, I never turn down live music so I'm disappointed that I didn't attend, and this was even more so the case when I actually listened to his music.

It's fantastic. He blends soulful southern blues with the sounds of India (by way of his acoustic slide guitar manipulations), and his voice is strong and pure. I absolutely love it, and you should too. You need to go here to see a performance on YouTube... you won't be disappointed.

I've also added music ranging from Everlast and Jay-Z, to John Coltrane and Ella Fitzgerald, to Lily Allen and Jack Johnson. I think I even have a song or two by the Dixie Chicks. I've definitely stepped away from the louder, more intense tunes of my youth as my main listening interests, even though my youth is, in reality, still here and I still have a quite glorious collection of 90's rock and alternative tunes on there. But, overall my tastes have mellowed, and I definitely enjoy more of the jazz and blues music that I always liked but never pursued. I think part of my soul lives in Louisiana... not only because of my love for the music, but my taste for spicy food and catfish too.

T

I'm not generally one for awards shows, but...

The Grammy Awards last night were absolutely spectacular. I don't think I've been entertained by such good quality live music on TV, well, ever. Kanye's performance of "Stronger" with the tribute to his mother was extremely touching, Alicia Keys is not only one of the most beautiful people on the planet but also one of the most talented (both with her "duet" with Frank Sinatra and her performance of "No One" with John Mayer), and seeing Aretha Franklin bring it home was great. Not to mention Feist put on a great performance, as did Foo Fighters. I'm a huge Amy Winehouse fan, so I was really excited to see her win, and the fact that Herbie Hancock won Album of the year just redeems my faith in the modern music industry... at least a little... maybe it's not all shot to hell.

If you haven't seen the performances, track them down online somewhere... it's well worth the show.

T

Sunday morning routines at their finest

The sun shines outside the patio windows, and Jack Johnson's new album is playing softly in the background. K and I just finished a breakfast of chocolate-chip pancakes with blackberry yogurty and raspberries on top, with a few cups of coffee and juice on the side. It's supposed to reach about +7 degrees today, so we might have to take in a walk through M.C. Park, only a few kilometres from home. Of course, reality will be calling later in the day as I set out to do some marking and tackling the prep work for the rest of the week. Although I'm somewhat ahead of the game, I need to keep on top of everything... I've always been a bit of a procrastinator (okay... that was a HUGE understatement), but so far things are going alright, so I just have to keep on keeping on.

This Sunday morning routine has become pretty common over the past month. I woke up a bit early one morning to cook K some pancakes, and since then it's become just a bit, well, expected. Not that I mind... I like starting off the day with a quiet and casual breakfast, enjoying time that we never seem to have during the week. K's been working overtime for nearly two weeks now because of RRSP/Mutual fund season (she works at a financial office), and since I've started my new job, I need to put in some pretty major hours in order to keep on top of skipping kids and missed assignments and sorting out where, exactly, the ESL room and the department resources are. That, and the day to day planning as well... gotta keep up on that, as well. K had to go into work yesterday, so I went with her and spent the day typing up questions and quizzes and assignments for my Macbeth unit that I started this week. The more I read the play, the more I really enjoy it, and I get really excited about it's contents. In a way, I feel like I'm cheating the play by not teaching every important tidbit, even though I know that if students can walk away just a little more comfortable with Elizabethan English and respecting the highly figurative nature of Shakespeare's language, then I've accomplished my goal. That, and making them think that maybe Shakespeare isn't so impossible at the end of the day after all.

My first week has been pretty successful, all things considered. I've already started calling parents about absent students, and have tried to do my best to set a tone for my high expectations regarding both behaviour and effort. At least one of the classes seems to be truly on board (which is also my biggest), and another seems to be following in that direction as well. The third is, well, going to be challenging for sure... a few of the girls in the class are already challenging the way I run the ship, and I've had to make an extra point of not putting up with any crap if they're going to skip and complain and be pylons while they're supposed to be working. I've been told a million times that the first few weeks are all about setting the tone, and I've tried to do that as well as I can. Then again, we're still inthe honeymoon period... talk to me again when it's May and beautiful outside and kids are more concerned with partying than poetry. Not that anything like that would ever happen... 17 year old boys love poetry...

Right??

Since he's singing along with his guitar in the background of my life, here is a good line from Jack Johnson's new album...

"... don't daydream again
Just help me to believe and then
Show me that there's more than just the meantime"
- Jack Johnson, "Monsoon", from the album "Sleep Through The Static".

T

Finding home in a new environment

It hasn't quite been a week since day one of the new job, but I'm still here.

So far, the experience has been great (don't worry... I'm rapping my knuckles on the wood of my desk as I type with one hand). The kids have responded really well, and they've settled into my routines without any issues. I've started organizing my materials as well as I can, while trying to learn at least two or three new names every day... this is always an uphill battle, but it's coming slowly but surely.

In the days leading up to my first official day, I spent a great deal of time going through materials of the teacher I was more or less replacing. He'd been in the district for decades, and had compiled a massive amount of materials over the years. Class copies of previous provincial exams from the early 90's, grammar worksheets that were still on Bible-paper-thin carbon paper with purple writing (I remember these from elementary school!), and texts that dated back to the 70's. Everything had to be either recycled or adopted by me. As it turned out, a few of the texts made the grade (notice the pun??? Get it? I'm a teacher??? ;) ), but a ridiculous amount of paper was recycled that didn't even get perused. There was just too much stuff, and to start fresh, I needed to embrace the "out with the old" mentality. I'd guess that there were hundreds of pounds of old photocopies that met their maker throughout the week. Sad... but we all have an end of the line.

The room is starting to feel like home. The geography of the class has changed to suit me a bit better, the old posters are off the walls, and the cupboards are starting to get filled with my own books and binders and materials. My desk feels like mine... or, at least most of it does. And I get to come back to the same kids consistently for the next few months. Although that will almost definitely get tiresome, there's a good feeling that goes along with knowing your environment and where you'll be going every day.

The teachers at this school have been super-supportive, as has administration. Everyone seems like their willing to lend an ear or a hand with whatever I need, and it's made the transition form TOC to Mr. M a really easy one to make. I know that I have a lot of work ahead of me, but it's work I'm looking forward. For the first time in this new career path, I have a place to call my own. In the general scheme of life, isn't that what we're all looking for?

"Home is a name, a word, it is a strong one; stronger than magician ever spoke, or spirit ever answered to, in the strongest conjuration."
~Charles Dickens

-T

The advent of change

I'd like to say the countdown is on, but to be honest, the day has already arrived. Today is the first day at my new job. Although I'm not getting paid until Thursday, I entered my new classroom for the first time just a few moments ago. It still feels occupied... established. I shouldn't be so surprised, considering the man I'm about to replace has been here for years and he hasn't yet cleared out all his materials. Still, I looked around at the posters on the wall and the papers on the desk, trying to mentally sort out what kind of changes I'd make to the geography of the desks, and what I could get to fill the walls around the room. How did I want my classroom to look, to feel, to BE.

My practicum last year consisted of five different sponsor teachers with five different rooms in various locations around the school. It's true that I had my own little hideaway "office" which I shared with a few other teachers. However, when the place you call your own consists of a space on a desk that is about one metre squared, it's hard to settle in and make yourself at home. Even the students weren't mine... they were just on loan from another teacher, another place. Their report cards had another teacher's name on them, their parents called the school asking for the person on the schedule from the start of the year, and many saw me as something less than a "real" teacher.

As with the tides, things predictably change. There is no sage-like sponsor teacher to go to when the students are acting out anymore. There is no relief at the end of your practicum, where you can hand the reins over to the people in charge, the people who know what they're doing. Nope. It's just you. And them.

I guess this post sounds a little bit ominous and makes me sound like I'm terrified. To a certain extent, I am. Worried that the kids won't take me seriously... worried that my reputation (how limited it may be) may procede me as a fun guy but a bit of a push-over. Worried that my kids won't learn anything and they'll perform miserably throughout the semester because I'm not effective enough. Worried that I'm not cut out for this whole teaching thing.

But alas, there's no time for hesitancy. All I can do is show up. Be here. And do my best. Ignore the dreams of insecurity that haunted me at about 2am this morning when I was forced to get out of bed and watch TV for an hour before being settled enough to return to my slumber. Ignore the mental chatter that makes me uncertain. And just be.

And so, mes amis, off I go into the fray. Wish me luck.

T

Tearing up at Tim Hortons at 7:45am

K had to go into work early. I received a call for a 3 day job at one of the high schools in town to finish out the week, but K needed to be at work by about 7:30am... far too early to show up expecting keys and TOC notes. Since there was the loveliest of Timmy Ho's right across the street from K's office, I stopped in for an extra large and a doughnut and some reading.

Over the past few months I've been reading A Complicated Kindness by Miriam Toews. I first thought about reading it because K did and really enjoyed it. Then I found out it was one of the most recent additions to the local school district's Approved Literature List for secondary schools. In preparation for the the possibility of getting a job, I wanted to read it. I finished up the Kite Runner at the end of November and picked this one up.

Needless to say, I wasn't disappointed. It started off with a tonne of biting wit, was written in an extremely casual, conversational manner, and although it was slow in the beginning, there were enough charming moments throughout the book to keep me coming back.

As I'm sitting in T.H.'s this morning, I'm just finishing up the final two chapters of the book... and I think to myself that I truly know what "having heart" means for a novel. The whole story set up a beautiful and tragically sad (but still triumphant) ending about a girl who just tries to navigate life in small-town, rural, uber-Mennonite Manitoba. And it was great.

I've already admitted that I'm a big sap and I love a good cry from time to time. And although I held myself together in this very busy location, I really thought the ending was suitable, unexpected, and completely appropriate. I know this is close to the ending, but I just wanted to share a few lines from the story...

"... no, I preferred the first story, the one about sacrifice and pain, because it presented opportunities, of being reunited, of being happy again, somewhere in the real world, our family, and because it was about everlasting love and that's what I like to believe in... I've learned from living in this town that stories are what matter, and if we can believe them, I mean really believe them, we have a chance at redemption."
- Miriam Toews, from A Complicated Kindness

If you haven't read it, I give it a hearty thumbs up. Sure, it may be considered a "girl" book, but when was I ever the type to embrace only the macho? For those who don't know me, the answer is, well, never... the James Bond good looks and my machismo persona aside. ;)

T

Dreams that wake

Over the past week or so, I've been afflicted with something I am rarely affected by: dreams.

I do know about psychological research which states that all people dream... it's only those who wake up in the middle of a dream whom ever recall their dreams. Lately, though, I've recalled more than one dream in an evening, which means that I've been waking up in the middle of said dream, which also means I haven't been sleeping soundly for a number of nights. All this filters down to the fact that I'm tired. I've definitely been in bed for a reasonable number of hours each night... I just haven't had the satisfaction of a deep sleep recently, which generally makes me a bit grouchy and touchy and easily distracted.

I was in today at my soon-to-be work location for a teacher I've been in for a couple of times. Her kids generally know me and know what kind of guy I am, but few know when I've been a donkey on the edge (due to my poor slumber experiences as of late). Well, needless to say, a few were acquainted with this version of Mr. M. I just find my patience fleeing out the window as I move through the paces of the day. I guess this is one of my most obvious downfalls as a teacher... my lack of patience that seems to make itself apparent when I don't have a full night's rest.

On a school related (but non-sleep related) note, I'm getting back into listening to interviews on
CBC radio watching poetry slam performances on YouTube. I heard about a guy who is apparently from the Okanagan Valley who'd won a few slam poetry competitions who was a graduate of a local high school. So, being intrigued, I looked it up, and so should you. His name is Shane Koyczan and he's won a number of poetry competitions around North America... CLICK HERE to take a look at one of his earlier performances... really good stuff.

Another one I think you should all watch is by Talib Kweli from the Def Jam Poetry performances also found on YouTube. Go HERE to see him perform one of his poems. For now, adios...

T

Do kids lose out with subsitutes in the class?

I received this story from a teacher at the high school I'm going to be working at for the rest of the year. MSNBC ran it this week, and it discusses how having substitute teachers in the classroom can damage teaching progress and can set students back rather than help them progress forward. Although the teacher that sent it pointed out that things are much different north of the border, she thought it was interesting. In an attempt to protet my TOC brethren, I'll respond...

I'll begin by saying that qualifications in Canada to be a subsitute teacher (known here as a teacher-on-call, or TOC) are the same as those of a regular teacher. We are subject to the same background checks, the same interview processes, and the same guidelines and expectations laid out by the provincial college of teachers (and this goes for most, if not every province in the country). We are not underqualified baby-sitters, and we are not unintelligent pylons.

It is true that in some districts and in some situtations, a TOC will have to teach outside of their particular subject area training. Sometimes this is because of a clerical error, and other times it is simply because of a shortage of TOC's on a given day. I, for one, have taught Junior math and science. Still, I have a degree in English lit with a second concentration in history, so I'm certified to teach Social Studies and English. However, I also have coverage areas in Phys-Ed (due to my coaching and athletics background) and in Foods (a few months working in a kitchen and I took a mini-contract in Foods at the end of last year). I am a full member of the college of teachers and a certified member of the local teachers union as well.

The reason I point these things out is that I believe that when I come in to a class, I'm definitely not responsible for setting students back in any way unless, of course, I'm outside of my subject area or a teacher leaves insufficient instructions. To date, I have only taught outside of my subject area a total of 3 times (for no more than one day at a time) and is quite uncommon. When I come in to teach a class for another teacher, I follow the directions as closely as is possible and am as thorough as possible when it comes to teaching various concepts with the kids. The same goes for any other TOC's I know... we are trained teachers who know our stuff... sure, many of us may have limited experience (I only graduated last year), but we are doing the best we can with what's available.

In most districts in Canada now, a person must apply to get on the TOC list before they are allowed to apply for contract jobs within the district. They must have a teacher-education program (which is almost univerally a minimum of 4 years), and related training in their subject area if they are to teach high school. That is definitely the case here in BC... you have to be on the TOC list before you can even apply for any teaching position. It is the TOC's that are used to fill vacancies... this is not a problem, though, since all the TOC's are qualified to take on the jobs they are hired for.

I fully agree with the article when it says that sometimes it's simply a holding pattern when it comes to behavioural challenges and classroom routines, but one of the things a TOC has to develop is their own expectations that can translate almost universally to any class they come into. Also, and maybe this is strange, but there is enough support in our schools that if, in fact I run into a serious behaviour issue, there are people at the school to help solve any conflict.

It seems to me that many of the symptoms and issues related to the U.S. issues relating to ineffective substitute teaching is directed related to adminstration problems/requirements, and a complete lack of funding for the schools. I've heard a lot of talk about this issue in the news it seems like it's a huge philosophical issue as well. How are teachers valued? What kind of standards are expected? At what point is education going to become the top priority of government? Even though many experienced teachers and administrators may disagree, I'd say that Canadian governments in general value education much more than governments south of the border.

This seems like a terrifying fact:

"...states with the fewest standards for substitutes also rely most on subs. Principals in Arkansas, Louisiana, Mississippi, Tennessee and Washington, D.C., are most likely to identify teacher absenteeism as a big problem, according to Education Department survey data from 2003-04, the most recent available.

Among those places, only Washington requires all substitutes to have some college. And even there, principals sometimes ignore that requirement when faced with teacher absences, according to a district review."
- from MSNBC.com via the AP

Only one state requires subs to have SOME college? Obviously this needs to be addressed. Again, the administration and the lawmakers/governmetns providing funding need to give their head a shake.

It is this sort of article that makes me thankful that I am working in a district/province that does, in fact, provide a somewhat reasonable amount of support for TOC's and teachers in general. Sure, it can always get better (wages, support funding, etc.), but when looking at what goes on elsewhere, it's kinda nice to look at our job and say, "Geeez... it could be SO much worse".

T

A completion to the update...

Well. I guess I should begin at the start.

K and I got on the road back home on the 22nd of December. Typically, we're short on time so we end up driving during the early evening. This causes issues. Actually, it only causes issues for one of us: me. K fights night blindness and doesn't see well enough to confidently drive when it gets dark (particularly on the highway where there are no street lights). Thus, I have to take on the driving duties. Now, I don't really mind driving. I actually kinda like it for the most part. But I hate driving in bad conditions. Lucky for me, though, we had some extra time over the holidays, so K was able to drive during the day over the icy/snowy roads through the northern Okanagan toward the Trans-Canada before getting back to the 4-0-3. Growing up in the boondocks north of Calgary turned her into a ninja of a winter driver, so she's much more confident on the snowy/icy roads than I am.

We got back to Alberta in one piece and had a lot of time to spend with our respective families. K's family was riddled with the flu, which they passed on to K and which she ended up passing to my little sister, but I managed to stay alive and fought off my cough/cold without it ever settling in. I popped more echinacea in those two weeks than I have in my life! We had a nice visit, though, with K's family, and then made it down to see my family in Bridge City on Christmas Day just in time to get the last part of Christmas dinner. As always, my family spoiled us with too many gifts and we left with more stuff than we came with. I also got to meet up with the old high school crew... 6 or 7 of us met for brunch the day before we got back on the road to BC, so it was great to see everyone. One is in Med School, another is doing a Masters in Performance Piano, another just left for Australia, still another is finishing up a teaching program, and another buddy is just about to have a baby with his lovely wife (who couldn't make... doctor's appointment). Always so much stuff going on.

On the 28th, we headed back to Calgary for an extended family Christmas get together with some of K's aunts, uncles and cousins. We were thinking of spending the night again, but decided last-minute to simply get back on the the road to the OK Valley so we could spend another day out in Victoria. So we stayed for about 2 hours, then made the drive back home, arriving at the apartment at about 11pm.

By 9:30am the next morning, we were on the road to the Island. K and I got stuck behind an accident on the Coquihalla for nearly 2 hours, but since we had left a whole day earlier than anticipated, we got there about 7:30pm, had some dinner and beer, and turned in... K at her friend's house, and me at my friend's house.

After playing lots of games, drinking lots of brew, and seeing a bunch of people, we were back home on the 1st with K's friend in tow. I did nearly all the driving after the first day (on the 22nd), but the roads weren't too bad, and although it was a bit stressful at times, we made it home in one piece. AND, after visiting with K's friend for 5 days and relaxing, it was back to life and work and such.

And so, here I am... two weeks away from starting my new (very REAL) job, and two weeks into the TOC'ing world. Subbing hasn't been too bad, and although it was quiet last week, I'm working 4/5 this week, and I'll be able to get some planning/cleaning done today to offset the lack of work that's been taking place over the past 2-3 weeks. I did some painting for my uncle last week, but with coaching and a busy subbing week, I haven't had time to do much planning, so today is what that's for... heading up to the school to get some materials and chat with a couple of the English teachers about some stuff, and hopefully snagging some keys so I can get copying and preparing more effectively. I can only do so much here at home.

Now we're all caught up... I'm going to make another unrelated post shortly about substitutes in the U.S. and issues surrounding their effectiveness. For now, I can only say that the standards are much higher north of the border, in most provinces anyway. But more on that later...

T

Holiday hiatus...

I'm back now. However, I took a few weeks off due to the craziness that has ensued over the previous weeks. Unfortunately, I won't full return until sometime this next week, but I'll give a bit of information related to the craziness...

I finally got a job! I accepted a contract at a local high school (about 8 blocks from my house) for a full-time position for the next semester. I'm really excited, and since it's all English, I couldn't have received a better schedule (unless they paid me for a prep, which they don't). This means that I'm going to be super-busy for the next six months coaching and playing volleyball and tackling my first full-time teaching position ever. I was also being pursued for another job at another high school I really like, but I'm not one to be picky (not yet, anyway) and took the first offer I received.

I was also gone to the motherland (also known as the windy, bald prairies of southern Alberta) for a week and was out on the coast for a few more days... we've had company for the past 5 days as well, so I haven't accomplished much of anything work-related (i.e. getting ready for the semester), and haven't even had a chance to catch up on my sleep. So, those are priorities, even though we're all going out for a big night of booze and bowling.

Thus, for now I must make an exit... more details to follow soon. Happy New Year to the three people who stop by from time to time :)

T

The Impact of Bureaucratic decision making

Since I've entered the field of education, there has been a great deal of talk about changes taking place. Theoretically speaking, secondary teachers are not simply expected to "teach to the exam" (I'm sure this was never officially the policy, but it was, in fact, the practice for many teachers). Rather than focusing on evaluation via standardized testing, teachers are now to focus their efforts on getting students to successfully fulfill a number of prescribed learning outcomes for every course they take. Also, particularly around my school district, there is a big focus on Assessment for Learning (rather than evaluation of learning), where teachers take in assignments and look at them to learn what they need to focus on more in future lessons, and students receive analogous, non-evaluative feedback so they can focus their efforts on improving specific facets of the skills they are expected to acquire. Most of these outcomes are concerned with skills and concepts rather than the memorization and rote regurgitation of facts and figures. No longer are teacher expected to get students to memorize a series of facts to be recalled for a trivia-laden final exam. Nope... the concepts are the key.

Although this philosophical shift has been taking place in the theoretical environment, the fact remained that students were expected to take a standardized examination for most subjects at the end of their schooling (particularly in high school). In order to graduate and put oneself in a position to go on to college, a student had to successfully write a standardized provincial exam in all core subjects in order to be considered for any post-secondary programs and, in reality, graduation as well. For many subjects, a large portion of the test would likely be fact-recall based (particularly in history/biology). If you failed the final and the average of the final and the school mark were below that infamous 50%, no credit was given. So, the problem remained that the theoretical talk of concepts was overshadowed by a need to perform on a standardized examination. Again, this is somewhat specific to the course, but was a reality all the same.

Another part of the problem was seen to be the relevancy of the exams in general. In the OK Valley, only about 15-20% of high school students are attending post-secondary programs after graduating high school (college and university included). So the question being begged is this: why should students who have no plans to go on to post-secondary education be forced to write standardized academic examinations if they were successful in completing the learning outcomes for the course as designated by their classroom teacher? Also, the pressure issue was also in question... if students can satisfactorily complete the outcomes for the course as designated by their classroom teacher, why should the province require them to write an extremely stressful marathon-length exam in order to prove they deserve the mark they've received? This was even more so the case because the skills and concepts being taught might not connect with the content of the provincial exam at all. The Ministry of Education in BC thought long and hard about this and they came up with a response: students were no longer required to take provincial exams (other than English Language Arts 12 and BC First Nations Studies 12).

Now, the recommendation still stood that if, in fact, students were expecting at ANY point to attend university or college anywhere, they should still write the provincial exam in all of their examinable subjects. The reason was that universities and colleges still required a combined mark of the classroom grade and the grade from the provincial exam in any relevant subjects in order to be considered for admission. Also, since ambitions and attitudes about education changes in the minds of young adults, they were generally encouraged all around for anyone with the ability or interest to go on to post-secondary studies.

Even more interesting is the change that took place this week. The University of Victoria, my alma mater, recently published this notification on their website which states that the writing of any optional BC provincial exams is no longer required for entrance into the university. If an exam was still required for completion of the course (English 12 and First Nations 12), then the blended mark would be needed and accepted. Otherwise, the higher mark of either the classroom grade or the blended exam/classroom grade would be taken as the application grade for the course for non-mandatory exams. In essence, students could bomb their Bio/Chem/History 12 finals and as long as they performed well in class, they'd be fine (again, if they were only planning to attend UVic).

Now, this has some big implications for students and teachers around the province. Although I haven't been able to come close to sorting them all out, it will still cause quite a big stir. An interesting thing is that no other universities or colleges (to my knowledge) in BC have changed other than UVic... UBC Vancouver just recently rejected the possible amendment to admissions but apparently the vote was quite close.

My first worry is about transitioning to university. If writing those big standardized exams is no longer required, I'm worried that some students may crash and burn under the pressure of testing that takes place in university. Those people who have attended university know that class sizes are often large and impersonal, learning if generally a self-directed pursuit, and exams are based solely on lectures, reading assignments, and personal research. At least, that was my experience.

Another curiosity... are these bureaucratic changes going to have any effect on the way universities run classes or test students? My first response is a vehement NO. Since most university profs have no training in the teaching of their subject (but uber-amounts of training in the study of their subject), are they really going to change the tried and true format of lecture, assign readings, evaluate on examinuation? Again, my personal thoughts are, well, it's not likely. However, I also didn't think that university admin would aquiesce to the changes made by the Ministry of Ed here in BC.

I think I'm just curious about what the talk is going to be like around the schools... I think there's going to be a big division among teachers on how they are going to take the news.

As for me, I think I'm a bit ambivalent. I guess I'll just wait to see how it all comes out in the wash...

T

Funny mid-week adventure

Being a TOC is always an adventure in written communication. The art of interpretation should never be underestimated. What seems simple may not be. What may be implied may be completely incorrect. And as a teacher friend reminded me... to "assume" means to make an "ass" out of "u" and "me".

Here's the story.

I received an email from S (the teacher I'm in for) relating to today's lessons a few nights ago. In the email, she attached the lesson plans for today. I've been in for her a few times previously, and since it was a requested day, she typically sends me the notes for the day ahead of time.

They were in a Word document, so I opened it up and perused the events for the day... on the left-hand side of the document, there were directions for the Dynamics 8 class (low English ability) that she teaches. I assumed that, since they were on the left hand side of the page, that I was going to teach that class first. Normally there's a piece of paper laying out the blocks for me, but since I know S and I've been in for her before, I guess the office staff didn't think it was a big deal. On the right hand side of the page were the directions for her AP Lit class (obviously in the afternoon in the second block).

Now, last time I was in, the Dynamics kids were only in the room for 1/2 the block (meaning the class was linear). On this school's schedule, the linear block would flipflop time schedules with another linear block. Last time, I taught the Dynamics kids in the first half and had a prep in the second. There was another teacher in for a Socials class, so I had to find somewhere else to work... yay for prep time. Again, I assumed that I'd likely teach the Dynamics class in the second half of the block.

So, first thing this morning, I was sitting in the room getting organized and a number of older students came in. Since I was kicked out of the room last time when another class entered, and since the Dynamics class is linear and only had 1/2 the block in the class with me, I assumed (in my infinite wisdom) that I needed to vacate the class and went to the staff room to work on the marking. I relaxed, drank some coffee, talked with another English teacher and marked some assignments.

I had to pick up some other books from her shelves so I could keep marking, so I went back to her room. I walked in and it was pretty empty (strange, since there was a full SS class in there last time). The first student that saw me asked, "Are you our sub?" Startled, I asked what class it was. The young lad responded by saying, "This is Ms. G's AP Lit Class."

As shocked as I was, I tried to explain the situation (i.e. the total miscommunication) as best as I could and ran back to the staff room to get my materials. Upon returning, I took a, "So, who was here at the beginning of class" attendance and got them working on their assignment. Apologizing profusely, I asked all the students to come back at the end of the block to let me know they were here. I also went on a spy mission with a couple of the students to figure out who was there after break and who checked in and then went missing again. It was espionage at it's most brutal, and our mission only returned satisfactory results.

I really only had a couple of students that were completely MIA, but needless to say it was an adventurous morning. It's kinda disheartening that something so ridiculous has already happened, particularly since it's only Wednesday! I can only hope that the rest of the day/week goes better. Hope ya'll are doing better than I! And remember, never assume... anything...

T