My cell phone rang last Friday as I was leaving the office. I could tell by the way he said "hi" that there was news.
"How are you?"
"Well... not so great"
"Aw, geez, I'm sorry."
"... they want me to start on Tuesday!!!"
He got me. For a teeny tenth of a second.
Remember that job that you were pretty sure was killing anything good about you? The one that made your brain turn to mush, and more painfully pulverized your heart too? My brother has been teaching at a charter school that did not seem to have their students at the top of the priority list. There were 35 kids in his class this year. All boys. 6th grade boys. And a whole list of bad bad things that add up to this not being a place for any student or teacher, especially one fresh out of school himself with all these ideals...
Yesterday my brother probably sat his 1st graders down and started to learn their names and they might have talked about the calendar and addition. There will be challenges, but there will be support. And he is happy.
We were both crying as he gave me details on Friday. Sweet freedom. Sweet renewed purpose.
Completely unrelated, I forgot to mention and a comment reminded me. The red jumper Willa's wearing in the previous photos? I made that. Me and my sewing machine and several swear words. I made it for MaKenna, and now Willa's enjoy the hand-me-down.
1 comment:
Yay! Where is this marvelous new school, if you want to say so via back channels? You did peg what I do right, BTW--I freelance for lots of places and education reporting has sort of become my "thing" over the years. I love good teachers.
Also, how cool you can sew! I am learning right now. Little girls' clothes can get scarily hoochie-mama and since Maggie runs about a year beyond her age sizewise, she's already starting to wear some girls' clothing (versus toddler clothing). I don't think my almost three-year-old need a Paris Hilton miniskirt, you know?
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