first day ramble

Listen, I'm sorry about all the Instagram head shots, I really am.  But here's the thing: I forget to take pictures until I'm blogging and think Oh no! A picture!  A blogging must, I'm told!  And then I panic and take a picture of my face.  Also, Instagram white-washes my tired skin, so there's that.

Anyway, I'm just decompressing from my first day of school.  Here are some thoughts in no particular order (ha. like you expected any sort of identifiable organization).  Keep in mind these are the rogue musings that are slipping out and about my worn brain; I'd rather not be held accountable for them, if you would be so kind.

• I arrived at Lehi High at 6:40 in the a.m.  (Factor in the 30 minute commute, please).  I was feeling rather accomplish-y as I drove to school, because whoa--I didn't even hit snooze.  But this feeling faded as I pulled into the parking lot and saw them.  Herds of them.  Students.  Um.  What.Is.Happening.  Students get to school over an hour early now??  I know I'm getting old, but since when?  
• I felt a strange thing as I copied and annotated and shuffled my preparatory materials before class.  I felt this odd sensation as I walked down the hall, looking into the faces of students that may be mine.  I felt it before, during, and after class.
• I felt...calm.  Which of course means I was doing something seriously wrong.  I just don't know what yet.
• My students were everything I could have hoped for: a mix of sweet, sarcastic, shy, smart aleck-y, lazy and kind.  And oh, their writing responses.  Those lovely writing responses.  
• Sure, their sentence structures may have been monotonous.  And some of their handwriting was, to put it kindly, illegible.  And maybe they didn't answer all the questions.
• But.  Those kids know themselves better than we give them credit for.  They know what makes them uncomfortable, what motivates them, how they learn best.  They probably know which hallways will be lined with familiar faces, and which will make them feel alone.  Some of them know they joke loudly in class to cover up their struggle with reading.  Some of them know they will be receiving a C because they're willing to do some work, but not all.  
• And I'm going to get all those things they know out on paper if it kills me.  I'm going to pull those little between-the-lines thoughts from their heads, and plop them down in black ink.  They are going to have a voice, even if their voice only feels like saying Mrs. Gull you're rather strange and can we please be done discussing this disclosure document?  
• Because, well, I'm a teacher now.  So that is what I'll do.