A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away (so it seems to me now) I worked in a classroom filled with third-graders.
Children. Stinky, sticky, noisy children. A whole room full of the little hairless monkeys!
I loved it. Kids are fun and I’ve always enjoyed their company. They’re more honest than adults, more creative, confident. They’re everything we are, but without all the filters and hangups that choke the happiness out of us later in life.
They haven’t had time to put up the walls that we, as adults, spend most of our lives hiding behind.
Sure, by the time they turn 13 or 14, children enter that degenerative process known as puberty, transforming them from “cute kid” to “surly teenager you feel you must ignore in order to avoid killing him with your bare hands,” but that doesn’t last forever. It only seems it does. And once they’re adults, you miss even those teen years. I do, anyway, at least when it comes to my own kids. On the other hand, I do not miss the lilting tones of Dr. Dre and Wu-Tang Clan thumping through the walls of my house.
But I digress. Frequently.
The point is, I loved working in the classroom. I loved the kids, the hours, the summers off with pay, the awesome health insurance (it was back then), the smell of chalk dust.
What didn’t I love? I can sum that up with a joke my students used to tell: “I don’t mind school, it’s the principal of the thing I can’t stand.”
Now, before you principals get yourselves all lathered up and start writing me nasty letters filled with the sort of edu-speak that would make a thesaurus-writer scratch his head, let me say this: I’ve only worked under one principal and she’s the one I hated. I’m sure there are many administrators who are lovely people, though I wouldn’t want my sister to marry one. Kidding. But seriously, stay away from my sister.
The principal I worked under was simply not my cup of tea. It wasn’t really her fault; it was a personality thing. I had one, she didn’t. (Please feel free to insert “meooooowww!” sound here.)
Sure, I’m being catty, but it is very rare I meet someone I don’t like and I don’t handle it well when it happens. I always assumed she was the worst principal ever. Turns out she’s not even close.
I just read an article about Dana Carter, a principal at Calimesa Elementary School in California’s San Bernardino County. Shortly after accepting the position, Carter decreed (that seems the right word here) that all students must bow down on one knee when addressing him.
The students were to remain kneeling until he “released” them with a wave of his arms. Apparently, there was no scepter involved, but one can only assume it was just a matter of time.
The article didn’t mention his office chair, but I’m guessing it’s ornately carved and at least a few inches higher than the other chairs in his office.
It didn’t take long for parents to complain to the school board and that was the end of King Carter’s reign.
So. Principal that I used to work for, I hereby take back at least one of the many terrible things I have, over the years, said about you. You’re not the worst principal ever.
Now can I have my old job back? I miss those summer vacations.
More of Mike Taylor’s Reality Check online at mtrealitycheck.blogspot.com. Contact: mtaylor325@gmail.com.
No comments:
Post a Comment