Great White
Ah, luxury! Last night Dear Landlord delivered us a brand-new fridge. He excitedly began to explain to us how he got it, but I made myself scarce once it became clear that it had something to do with threatening the manager of the local Home Depot. It’s best not to know. Anyway, she’s beautiful and clean and white and cold…
Jason cooked fried chicken tonight to celebrate. Oddly enough, he’s cooked every meal since we’ve been home. Sure, he cooks on the rare occasion, but suddenly he’s Martha Stewart. Maybe it’s his coping mechanism the same way that cleaning has been mine.
Tomorrow is the big meeting at school. I’m more nervous than I was the very first day I started at the school. Yesterday, it was posted on our blog that those teachers who wouldn’t be starting until January will not receive any paychecks after October, and that school will pay only the school’s portion of their healthcare. Totally tragic. In the past two weeks, every bit of news I’ve gotten from the school has disappointed me. It seems the very definition of “community” has been called into question here. I hope I am proven wrong, although it doesn’t seem likely.
I remain in basic isolation mode when it comes to exploring the more damaged parts of the city. It’s enough, still, to listen to the 24-hour call in radio—the stories of the displaced. The sad news of the homecomings.
On Saturday, Jason and I went to Café Luna to read the paper, and I bumped into a senior who I teach—or now taught. She’s in boarding school in Tennessee and will remain there. She has nothing to come home to; she was home, her mother explained, only to “say goodbye” to her house. I was supposed to teach her in an independent study. She’d already started reading Kate Chopin before we evacuated. Heartbreak. We must have hugged a dozen times.
While this week of meetings will be difficult in many ways, the real hard work will begin when the girls come back. Teaching English is a piece of cake compared to the other stuff that’s going to have to happen in the classroom and out. And right now, no matter what my feelings about school may be, I know that school politics is the least important part of my job.
Keeping my fingers crossed for the best possible outcome…
Jason cooked fried chicken tonight to celebrate. Oddly enough, he’s cooked every meal since we’ve been home. Sure, he cooks on the rare occasion, but suddenly he’s Martha Stewart. Maybe it’s his coping mechanism the same way that cleaning has been mine.
Tomorrow is the big meeting at school. I’m more nervous than I was the very first day I started at the school. Yesterday, it was posted on our blog that those teachers who wouldn’t be starting until January will not receive any paychecks after October, and that school will pay only the school’s portion of their healthcare. Totally tragic. In the past two weeks, every bit of news I’ve gotten from the school has disappointed me. It seems the very definition of “community” has been called into question here. I hope I am proven wrong, although it doesn’t seem likely.
I remain in basic isolation mode when it comes to exploring the more damaged parts of the city. It’s enough, still, to listen to the 24-hour call in radio—the stories of the displaced. The sad news of the homecomings.
On Saturday, Jason and I went to Café Luna to read the paper, and I bumped into a senior who I teach—or now taught. She’s in boarding school in Tennessee and will remain there. She has nothing to come home to; she was home, her mother explained, only to “say goodbye” to her house. I was supposed to teach her in an independent study. She’d already started reading Kate Chopin before we evacuated. Heartbreak. We must have hugged a dozen times.
While this week of meetings will be difficult in many ways, the real hard work will begin when the girls come back. Teaching English is a piece of cake compared to the other stuff that’s going to have to happen in the classroom and out. And right now, no matter what my feelings about school may be, I know that school politics is the least important part of my job.
Keeping my fingers crossed for the best possible outcome…
posted by M at 6:48 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home