Walk a Mile in This

Those of you who know me or follow me on twitter may refuse to walk a mile in my shoes.  Steve, Gianni, Jessica and Antonio might be adorable, but they are NOT boots that were made for walking.

But consider it metaphorically, if you will.

I have had the unique opportunity to be both a classroom teacher and a technology... person. And allow me to cry for help:

To the techs:  Please understand you can't know the horror of planning a lesson and having it fail miserably.  We tout risk-taking, but really, as classroom teachers, in from of 32 teenagers, or tweens, or children, we want there to be a low possibility of risk.  As low as possible.  Preferably no risk.  At all.

And we do not understand your acronyms.  We do not know the difference between VGA and HDMI; we barely know the difference between the blue cord and the yellow cord*.  And we can't trouble shoot in high stress situations because, like a newbie in the field, we forget everything we ever learned when things go wrong.  We are focused on instructional time and test scores (right or wrong) (ok, wrong).

We have a million things on our minds (150 of them are students), and we tackle you in the hallway because you make us remember we need you.  You don't have to give in, but remember you don't answer to a slew of administrators, students, parents, grandparents, community members, on the daily.

This is what I beg of you: don't forget me and please forgive me.  I will try again.  I will try to learn.  I will freak out every time it doesn't work.

To the teachers: Please understand you can not know the stress we are under.  You have 150 students; we have thousands.  Plus teachers.  Plus administrators.  We want our kids to be able to use tech.  We want it to work.  We kick ourselves when decisions are made that do not benefit teachers and we really do have you in mind. But we have 800 teacher/admin devices, 7000+ student devices, plus all of the behind-the-scenes stuff that makes it work.

I know you worry about the one tech you have in your building; but we have to worry about the 61 teachers in yours.  And the 40 in the other.  and the 22.  and the 34.  and the 37. And the students with broken devices.  And the teachers who have crowd-funded new tech and want to use it now. Right now.  (Thanks, eCoaches).

You know when your kids take a test and then the next passing period they asked if you have it graded?  That feeling is the same feeling we get when you stop us to ask if we have looked at your device yet.

I am sorry about all of the acronyms and the computer talk.  We know that all teachers are everywhere with your understanding and we don't want you to think we think you are unintelligent.

This is what I beg of you: be patient; we really are working hard, after hours, and on the weekends, like you.  And for the love of everything that is holy, do not call your tech unless you have restarted your device and unplugged and reconnected whatever the ailment is.  Troubleshoot. Learn to fish.  That will help us help you.

(*this is a tech joke; there is no difference between the blue cord and the yellow cord.)

Why Debbie Ettel Made Me Cry

For those of you that know Debbie, I am sure you are shocked.  You are asking yourself what heinous act she commented to bring Hutch to tears.  Well, I will tell you.  It was last school year, but I can remember it like it was yesterday and every time I see her, I almost relive it...

Riverside Elementary was not my building at the beginning of the year.  When my colleague took a position filling in elsewhere in the district, I took on the building and its tech needs.  This was the first time I spoke with Debbie at any length.

It wasn't our first meeting, or even our second, when she made me cry.  It was late in the year and I was having a particularly bad day.  So in her defense, had I been having a better day, I may not have cried.  But on that particular day, that particularly bad day, it was all I could take.

Teachers and administrators had been nasty to me all day.  Parents and kids had been complaining.  Even my husband was not being very nice.  I felt unappreciated, unrecognized and unloved.

And then came Ms. Ettel.

And she... was so nice and sweet and caring and genuine that I could not take it.  She made me feel so smart and accomplished and good about myself.  I never want to leave her office or her company when I am there (she has to kick me out sometimes).  And so, as I walked to my car, I started to cry.

Why can't everybody be like Debbie?  I know she has had trials and tribulations and has probably been "wronged" and had her heart broken more than once, but no matter where she is, or what is attacking her, she is shining on the outside.  That must be exhausting, but I need her to know that I notice, and I need it, and I appreciate it.

So I boo-hoo-ed.  Mostly because I felt sorry for myself.  Why was I not surrounded by Debbie Ettels?  Maybe then, I could not appreciate her as much...

So that is how Debbie Ettel made me cry.  I never told her this story and she almost caught me writing it.  But to Debbie, from all of the teachers, administrators, parent, kids and people that you have made feel bad because there are not enough of you, Thank You.  You are my marigold and my Joy.

Being an adult sucks

The memes are all over about how hard it is to "adult".

           

But the truth of it is, no one is really prepared to be an adult.  The question if teachers are actually preparing kids for the real world is pointless.  Because NO ONE CAN PREPARE YOU.

I used to think that being an adult would eventually get easier.  I thought it was like tying your shoe or brushing your hair; the better you are at it, the easier it is.

But this is not true.

In fact, it is the opposite.  The better teacher you are, the harder your job is.  Crappy teachers (business people, any other profession) have it easy.  They come in, work their seven and a half hours, leave, go do grown-up things like watch the news, fix dinner and shower and brush their teeth.

I thought maybe I was doing it wrong.  After all, they say "work smarter, not harder."

THAT IS THE DUMBEST THING EVER.  Almost as dumb as becoming an adult.  Here's the thing: I have avoided actually become an adult, but even that has brought problems.  Besides a disturbing lack of hygiene, I can't spell and I get in trouble ALL THE TIME.  I am the 30-year-old version of No, David, Joey Pigza and Jack Henry.

It's like having a birthday.  You wake up and expect to feel different because you are a year older.  But you don't.  You feel the same as yesterday.

I will close with lyrics from Christina Perri because they are relevant and also because I will see her in concert next month and naturally I shout that out every time someone mentions her.  Or her songs. Or says any word that is a lyric of any of her songs...

"I'm so sorry it's not like me,

It's maturity that I'm lacking
So don't, don't let me go
Just let me know that growing up goes slow"

-Hutch