Monday, June 18, 2007
Good Luck Movin' Up 'Cause I'm Movin' Out....
The school year is over and summer vacation has begun. Still waiting for this fact to sink in, though I’ve taken serious advantage of the extra sleep time. Not sure whether this is due to the fact that the sleep time is available to me or the # of post-school-year parties and the abundance of alcohol at said parties. Let’s just say it’s been a loooong time since I’ve had two hangovers in the same long weekend.
Now begins the delightfully silly season of household tasks, vacations, etc. And moving friends who are leaving the school where I teach. A few words about this: This year has not been an easy one. From the beginning, there have been assorted grumblings that, from the start, were not indistinguishable from any other year. I think the tone was set by our principal who, at the welcome breakfast held by the PTA, told the teachers to make sure they pushed in their chairs when they left. Something has been lost in the translation; as I type these words, they sound so harmless. But I remember thinking, is this the type of thing that an adult (even one who’s in charge) should be saying to another group of adults?
Well, I’m leaving out a lot – most of which has been written about elsewhere – but suffice to say that was only the beginning of the end. But I knew things were taking a bad turn when the school’s #1 ass-kisser, the type who always raises her hand at the end of staff meetings when everyone else wants to go home, got fed up with all the data-collecting we all have been asked to do this year and asked the principal to cut back on his expectations. Reportedly, he told her he would gladly supply her with the paperwork if she wanted to apply for a transfer to another school. Ouch.
So cut to the chase: Now the year is done and the exodus, the “rapture,” as The Mayor has called it, is occurring. Not sure of the actual body count, but I can think of at least a dozen teachers I know personally who won’t be returning next year. Among the casualties (it’s hard to call it that when one believes they’re actually going to a better place – see? the metaphor holds up!) are friends: Megan, The Mayor, G and Erin. Granted, three are leaving the area with spouses/significant others. The other is moving on to a neighboring school district. But none are coincidental to the toxic atmosphere at the school. As time has gone by, this has become more difficult to handle, not easier. Not that I begrudge them for upgrading. Heaven knows I’ve been shopping myself around. But right about now, I feel like, paraphrasing John Kerry here, the last man to die for a lost cause. What will become of Cogan’s Thursday, I can’t be sure. We’ll try to keep the flame alive.
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