the first day

today, i began one of my new books, "Letters to a Young Teacher" by John Kozol. It made me think about my first day....

I was terrified. I had planned activities, but who knew if I was on target at all. Would my kids do them, or would they stare at me? would they throw a desk out the window? or run down the hall? This was my first day, of my first year of my first real job and it was teaching 6 eight to ten year old diagnosed with autism. Again, I was terrified.

I had an entire 8 weeks of training. when did I ever expect that to be enough to go on and shape lives?
I rarely get nervous. I think its because I usually get myself into such predicaments, that my nervous systems had developed an enhanced coping system. Nonetheless, I was unusually nervous for my first day because I really had no idea of what to expect. I repeatedly asked, all summer, could we ditch the theoretical nonsense and could someone please tell what am I supposed to do the first day. However, my pleas for real advice we left unanswered.

Here I was, the morning of my first day. Although, I was nervous it was to a mild extent, however personally extreme. I slept fine and went about my normal morning routine as usual. I anticipated parking to be easier than it was, which left me paralyzed with fear that my first day I was going to be late. After my summer experience, I was terrified of getting towed, again. This left me wandering for the perfect space. The clock was ticking and the minutes were climbing. Its amazing how its times like these when each minute is priceless. every second is being counted. I finally resorted in calling the office, to find out where there was a garage because I was desperate and slowly losing my mind. I am not going to lie, I was fighting back the nervous, anxious, terrified, and frustrated tears. I called my mom. She attempted to calm me down, while I paid $15 to park in the garage. It was enough and was breathing normally. I hung up and began to gather my things: a water bottle with three monarch caterpillars, my purse and calendar.
I was determined to get to work on time, at this point it was really to late. I was panicked. I started for the steps in a haste. I should know that holding the bar down the stairs is a constant requirement because of my klutz history, but my hands were full and i was rushing. As i reached the last landing before the door. My stupid Fit Flops, that don't fit at all, caught the edge and down I went. My things were everywhere, poor caterpillars. I was know in the dirt and stone, covered in butterfly water. owe. I looked down to find my knee covered in dirt and blood. I had this huge over three inch by two inch oval on my knee. I quickly pulled myself together and got a move on. My knee was throbbing and I would have preferred sitting in the dirt and crying, but that really wasn't an option. I needed to be at work ten minutes ago. My knee marked me, I was a failure.

I quickly started walking down the street, when some man decided now would be the time to chat. I have always been utterly confused by this. Why random strangers decide I am the person to hold full conversations with I will never know. The strange man asked me what I was doing, remarked I was too young to be a teacher and then informed me I was bleeding. It was obvious. I was bleeding, all down my leg. Truly, it was sexy.

I quickly excused myself and continued to near run to school. I finally arrived in the cafeteria, when my students. Yes, "my" students were sitting with my three paraprofessionals. There was no sense of urgency, they understood and had already determined that I couldn't find parking. I went over to the school nurse, I use that term loosely. Her suggestion for my dirt filled and bleeding knee was to wash it with soap in water in the girls bathroom. Frustrated with her lack of nursing, I went in put my leg in the children's sink and began to wash. My mothers a nurse, once a school nurse, and this act of nursing was appalling and I knew it.
After washing, she gave me a quasi band aid and basically wished me luck. The rest of the day, was basically a blur. I called my mom at lunch crying. The morning had got me so frazzled that I could barely function properly. The day went on, I calmed down and focused on the 6 kids I was responsible for. I tried to get to know them and soon enough the day was over.

On the way home, I determined that the part of my day that was legitimate teaching was fine, it was actually great. I taught when many veteran teachers ran around trying to get their classrooms together. I knew this would be a process, and I was ready to patiently wait it out. I realized it was the morning before school that actually had me believe the school day was awful, but teaching was great. I felt like this is where I am supposed to be, this comes naturally to me. I feel at ease here and it makes me happy. I looked forward to the next day. I do my best, and take things one day at time. That's all I can do.

I will always remember my first day of teaching.