Whew, it was one of those days. A pretty good day actually, but school days are so packed and crazy that every day is one of those days, especially by the spring of the year. My day job is elementary school librarian (to be more realistic, it’s my evening and weekend job as well). Yes, I know what you are thinking out there: ooh, a librarian, wow, you get to sit around and read all day, gee, I wish I had that job. Yeah, right. Every week I see 680 kids in 34 classes at 2 different schools for a 40 minute library class each. Each class begins at an exact time, must flow through an exact series of events, and finish up at an exact minute because their teacher will be picking them up and another teacher bringing the next batch in exactly 5 minutes later. And on and on and on. I am in charge of submitting budgets and ordering books for 2 different libraries in 2 different buildings. On one particular day of the week I teach 4 classes in the morning at one building and then drive to the other building for afternoon classes. Neither building has the same starting or dismissal time periods, of course. I need to have new lesson plans conforming to the state standards in my principal's mailbox every Monday morning. I have recess duty, lunch duty, and bus duty. Nearly every minute of every day is accounted for. Lunch is eaten at my desk reading my emails.
Now don't get me wrong, I really do enjoy most aspects of my job. And I am definitely one of those people who would rather be too busy than bored. I am definitely NOT bored in my current job. And I realize it is not even in the running against stressful occupations such as brain surgery or police officer. Instead it is rather like being an actress in a 6-hour long performance. Or make that six 40-minute acts with a 5 minute intermission between each. And the play changes every week. And no one has actually paid for tickets (well, except the taxpayers living in the school district of course) so they may not necessarily want to be watching this particular play today. They may want to boo the performance. Or throw tomatoes (thank goodness actual tomatoes are not allowed anywhere near actual elementary school students these days!)
The interesting part of this metaphor is that I actually do get applause from the audience. Honestly, almost daily in one class or another the kids really break out in spontaneous applause. Now, I am not naive enough to actually believe this applause is for my stellar reading performance (well, maybe every once in a while). I prefer to take the credit in a more subtle way--a particular book was being applauded, and because I chose that particular book, then I, in essence, am being applauded for my selection skills. Either way, I will wholeheartedly accept the credit and take the applause as a positive statement on whatever level it may have been given. Feedback of any sort is slim in this profession, so I'll take what I can get. I believe the most important detail to take away from the whole applause situation is this: a group who belong to this modern generation of kids who have incredibly short attention spans due to their constant consumption of faster, more violent, and all consuming technology has actually noticed and appreciated the simple pleasures of a (shudder!) book.
And so, what, you may wonder was today's performance? Well, third grade is finishing a unit on the study of fairy tales by my sharing a selection from the
infamous "Stinky Cheeseman" by that dynamic duo of Jon (remember, it rhymes with Fresca) Scieszka and Lane Smith. This requires a multiple array of voices including: Jack, Giant, Chicken Licken, Queens, Kings, lying frogs, a being made from stinky cheese, and a sly fox (whose part simply begs to be read aloud in an impression of SNL's Jon Lovitz-"yeah, that's the ticket").
In fourth grade we are observing April being National Poetry Month and today I am reading an entire novel, "Love That Dog" by Sharon Creech, which is actually more of a novel-length poem about a boy who does not like poetry who is writing his thoughts about the subject in a journal for his English teacher. This is quite a lot to cram into one 40 minute class (and leave time for kids to select their library books!) but is so fulfilling for me because I get to read some great poems out loud and watch the kids faces as they slowly understand what is going on through the drama of the boy's journey. Suffice it to say that I have to work hard to not cry each time I get to the sad part.In 5th grade I get to don my "Where's Waldo" hat as kids have a mission to solve clues using an atlas to find my location in a variety of states.
In Kindergarten we are making Stone Soup with plastic food (real stones and cooking pot!) after reading 2 versions of the story. Afterward I walk around ladelling the finished soup into their cupped hand "bowls".
In 2nd grade we are talking about Australia and I get to read an aboriginal dreamtime story and play didgeridoo music.
Whew! That's pretty much the shortened version of today's matinee performance and I am exhausted just thinking about it. SO where does Eric Clapton fit into all this mess, you might ask. Well, I was driving home at the end of this day, and the classic Layla came on the radio and I spent 7 minutes and 11 seconds in a trance-like state of repeating the ohm-like track over and over and over and over and over again in an exhilirating musical purging that truly left me in a peaceful state of tranquility and bliss. Aaaaahhhhhhh. Ohhhhhmmmm. Laylaaaaaaaaa
Just in time to get home and start dinner . . .
Keeping a grip, deb
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