Letter to my RMS Co-workers

It has come to my attention that the cat is out of the bag. For the past two years, I successfully kept my blog a secret from all my dear friends at RMS. Why? I don't know. I guess I was afraid I was writing stuff that could get me fired...or that I would unintentionally offend someone...or that I was breaking some sort of privacy laws...

Whatever. I carefully never mentioned my name or any other teachers' full names. I always abbreviated the school and left out the district name. I thought I was airtight.

Then S "Chocolate Queen" T used her detective skillz to locate and publicize this little site. I should have known. Nothing goes on at RMS without Ms. T finding out in five seconds. I swear she's got eyes on every hall and ears in every classroom. Congratulations, Ms. T, you win again!

Since I now have co-workers reading, I wanted to take a moment to thank all of you.

First of all, I have the utmost respect for the hard work y'all do every day. It's true; people say you don't know what goes into being a teacher until you are one. I'll go a step further. It's impossible to know the extent of what teachers at RMS go through until you've worked at RMS! In the words of another colleague, "nothing can prepare you for that 10th circle of hell/cracked-out Disney World that is our school!" So true. In addition to all the hard work that goes into our profession, you take on so much more by working at a difficult school. I know our school has a reputation preceding it, but if anyone even hints at the fact that it's that way because of the teachers, they catch an EXTREMELY heated earful from me.

You see, I worked with some of the most hard-working, patient, dynamic and caring people I've known. Not only are they so gifted with our kids that the kids call them "Mama" and love them like family, they face the daily challenges our school provides and still end the day able to laugh and joke--even have enough love to carry them over to the next day.

I admire and respect all of you.

Thank you for welcoming me and including me and making me feel like family when my real family was seven hours away. I couldn't have done it without you. Thank you for being the example of what it means to be a good teacher. I came to RMS without a clue of what I was getting myself into, and all of you supported me and encouraged me and helped me in countless ways.

I know TFA has its supporters and its haters, but thank you for seeing me as a person separate from that organization. Thanks for recognizing that I was really there for the same reasons you were and that I had no misconceptions about going in and being able to do anything without the help of people like you.

I had so much fun with all of you. My favorite part of my job was being able to laugh, and I've never laughed harder than I have with you. Who could forget our staff parties, our after school venting sessions, our 5th block trips to get food, our Friday afternoon dance sessions, Tootin' and Bootin' it...I'm laughing again right now thinking about it. I'm going to miss all of you!

Thank you, thank you, thank you. I love you all.

Can't hide that Raider Priiiiiide (Alabama voice).

Ms. K "DemBootz" M

Modest is Hottest

The thought of taking some of my best boys on their first international trip excites me immeasurably. The thought of having to wear a bathing suit in front of them does not.

In fact, I can't think of many things worse. I tried to think of a way around it entirely, but most of the activities we will be doing center around water. Sailing, swimming, skiing, tubing...you can't wear jeans for that kind of stuff.

I went out and bought a one-piece, but the fact that my stomach is going to be covered does not take much away from the fact that the thing is still plastered to my body and leaves everything but my torso exposed.

Think about it. Every day you go to work with the mindset of a nun. Hemlines low. Necklines high. Loose fit. RMS has little in common with a convent (other than the fact that there are a lot of sistas running around its halls), but the dress code is similar when you're under the eyes of 80+ pre-pubescent boys daily. Now, all of the sudden it's okay to basically be naked in front of them.

After perusing the internet for hours yesterday, I finally stumbled across a bathing suit that I would be comfortable wearing around my students.

Unfortunately, it costs about $150.

All of this has me thinking about other uncomfortable situations this trip is going to include.

Like:

I am sleeping in the same room as the boys.

Awkward.

I mean, couldn't I get arrested for that? And what do I wear to sleep in? My usual T-shirt and boxers fit the convent dress code in their bagginess and coverage, but I'll be darned if I want my STUDENTS to see me like that. I found a pair of pajama pants that I haven't worn since 6th grade (and consequently hit about 4 inches above my ankle) and half-heartedly threw them in the bag. This is going to be beyond weird.

I hope the bathroom has a door.

Sending uncomfortable thoughts your way,

Ms. M

Charlotte in Pictures

Some images of the things I loved about my city, and some I miss already. I'm glad I get to include pictures to this otherwise visually-boring blog.

PS if you're moving to Charlotte, or know anyone who is, please call me. I know great people up there and great places to go. I'm totally sold on that place; if it were about three hours closer, I'd have never left!

The skyline was beautiful at night. And during the day for that matter.

SELWYN PUB!!! We walked here on football weekends in the fall, balmy summer evenings, cheerful spring afternoons...I don't know what I liked best about it--the walk there, the big oak tree out front, the firepits in the tables during the winter, the misty fans in the summer, or the fried pickles. I think it was the fried pickles.

Another place we walked to often. Cute little retro shopping center filled with everything you could ever need. Seriously. I was in walking distance to a movie theater, post office, grocery store, coffee shop, bookstore, drug store, hardware store, clothing boutique, wine shop, nail place, dry cleaner's, alteration place and sandwich shop. I could probably do a separate picture for some of the places I just mentioned. Oh, and Buckley was allowed in most of those places.

This mall is ridiculously nice. Needless to say, the shopping in my little hometown isn't quite the same.

My sweet little house filled with good peoples, good memories.

My favorite room. We spent a lot of time here. Drank a lot of beers here. Ate a lot of good food here. Talked on the phone to you here.

The beautiful view from my bedroom window. I love the big, old trees.

The gorgeous trees lining Queens West on the way to my house.

This road, where I walked Buckley. Intersects with Queens West, my favorite walk/drive in the city. Did I mention I love trees?

The family meals we ate around our little table on Mondays, Tuesdays and Wednesdays.

Room 525!

Home of NASCAR!

This too.

Ode to Unemployment

There are worse places to be than this.

That's what I say to myself when I start panicking that I don't have a job (or any prospects, for that matter). That's what I say when I start missing Charlotte, or my friends, or (gasp!) my boys. So much of my identity the past two years has been wrapped up in what I do. "I teach 8th grade boys." I'd say, then anticipate the sympathetic/surprised/horrified response of the questioner. It was a point of pride, almost. I know people don't associate teaching with prestige or valor (though they should), but it always gave me a sense of accomplishment to know that I was doing something so difficult. Even now, I look back and wonder who in their right mind put me in charge of the well-being and education of all those boys--teaching science, no less. But I did it!

I didn't stop crying until I reached the South Carolina line as I drove home, car loaded with all my material possessions. Feeling I had mourned properly, I turned on the radio to lighten my spirits. "Carolina" blared meaningfully from the speakers.

Damn you, Eric Church.

Nowadays, I spend my days absorbing as much sun as humanly possible, eating my family's food (which is even better than I remembered) and perfecting my floating skills in the pool or the ocean. Tough life. Not much to blog about.

Don't worry, in two weeks I will be taking three of my students on their first out-of-the-country vacation to Canada. I'm sure I will have plenty to report. Meanwhile, I'm preparing to educate the masses on the cardinal rules of bridesmaiding and "How to Pose in Bathing Suit Photographs After Eating Ribs, Potato Salad and Homemade Peach Ice Cream Without Looking Like You've Already Given Birth to Several Children."

Enjoy your perch from the edge of your seat.