I'm going to lose my teaching position, and that really, really blows.
It's not because I did a poor job-- I did an excellent job. It's because the lawmakers in this state suck at their jobs. Pension reform, or their complete and utter lack resolving the aforementioned issue, has created a massive shortfall in education funding. So, long story short-- in which I save you from my anger filled rant-- I am going to lose my job, and set sail into a sea of unemployment rocked by a stagnant economy and budget cuts at schools across the state, amid the already established attitude that Social Studies is useless because it is not tested by federal or state tests. Unfortunately, this has not prevented absolutely everyone and their brother, sister, uncle, and aunt from getting certified in secondary Social Studies.
... and, all I can think about is how much I am going to miss the hell out of my kids.
I call my kids, because to me they are my kids. They have all gravitated to me for what I think are two reasons:
1) In me, they see someone who is nerdy, liberal, atheist, socialist, and curious-- all traits they feel in themselves, but are not encouraged in their small corner of Central Illinois. They are my beloved outcasts. In me they have found a kindred spirit who says, "That belief in you is worth believing - don't question it just because others don't understand it." I am a product of this same area, and I got out-- so will you.
2) They all have some form of parental issues, be it from being the product of a broken home or just being dysfunctional, they have all had to grow up just a little faster than they should have. In that, they share my pain.
So, I call them my kids because I feel like I am nurturing their minds, and serving as a stand in for a parent that does not meet a need that I can meet for them-- encouragement, discipline, engagement, understanding... the list goes on. Whatever it is that I have done that compels them to seek out my guidance and attention.
The worst part of leaving is feeling like I'm losing them, and they are losing me. We need each other, because they meet a need for me too. Since having started therapy-- did I mention that? Oh, yeah, by the way, I started therapy-- I've been working on my need to achieve, and be recognized for that achievement. I'm slowly realizing that my self worth does not have to be wrapped up in my accomplishments. But, for some time, I have aspired to be one of those creative geniuses, like Whedon or Roddenberry, who created a universe. I fantasize about having a booth at a comic convention, and signing books and posters and headshots and other forms of swag with my creations emblazoned on them. I can hear the squees of joy as they approach my table, and I scribble my name across their most precious object with a felt tip pen. For so long, I wanted to create a universe of science fiction characters and stories that would envelope people, that I could use to spread my message. Basically, I wanted to be a cult icon.
And, then I was sitting at my desk after school, my feet propped on my desk and telling a story, my Braintrust circled around me in pulled up chairs, listening intently... and I realized, I am already somebody's hero.
My therapist wanted me to work on phrases that I could repeat to myself-- things that would calm anxiety or lift a depressed mood. And, now I have one-- I am already somebody's hero. Whenever I get upset about anything, I can just repeat that phrase because I have now achieved my life's ambition.
I have achieved a cult of personality.
... This may be the closest I ever get to being Joss Whedon.
Wow... and it's not developed around my my intellectual property, it's around me. It's like a giant validation that everything I am is acceptable and in no way broken like I have become accustomed to believing. That's a pretty powerful revelation.
Every day after school is like holding court-- I sit at my desk, my kids gathered around, and we tell stories and nerd out. And, they look forward to it. Hell, they page me on the intercom when I am not in my room right after school.
Now, it makes me sound pretty shallow, and I'm still going to aspire to creating something other than myself for people to worship, but still... damn, that's fucking cool.
I have to admit, I have gotten a little addicted to the attention and praise. But, I feel like whatever I have gotten out of this, the kids have gotten much, much more. I'm their safe place, and a small taste of stability in their lives. And, the fact that I'm leaving scares me for their sake.
If nothing else, I know that I have at least established my demographic and fan base.
It's going to be all tears and feels my last day of school.
While I call them my Braintrust, one of the kids-- and, this speaks to their brilliance and nerdliness that it is in Latin-- started refering to me as Prima Imperatrix, or in other words, the First Empress. It all started when we decided to form a micronation. Now, I am the brave and wise leader, Prima Imperatrix of Braintrustencia.
I cannot express in words just how much I am going to miss these kids...
No comments:
Post a Comment