Monthly Archives: June 2013

Goodbye Colleagues

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Courtesy of Google.

Courtesy of Google.

A lame joke: What are the two best things about being a teacher?

July and August.

I don’t know who made that joke, but I would bet he or she was a burnt out teacher.

Don’t get me wrong. Every teacher I know circles the final day of the school year on their calendar either mentally or physically.

I certainly am guilty of this though I can just see my mom wagging her finger in front of me saying stop rushing the time away.

Despite this warning, I was counting up the school days in September anxious to get to 180. I said it was in solidarity with my nephew who was anxious to complete his senior year (he graduated the other day – congratulations DS), but it was not 100% true. I wanted summer and freedom. Well, I lost count around day 30.  I restarted when there were 30 days left.

Yesterday was the last day of regular instruction for my students.

And I felt a tinge of sadness and nostalgia when I said goodbye to my seniors (not so much with the sophomores). I always feel this to an extent but yesterday was more so. I took a picture with them, made a farewell speech, and they clapped.

Maybe, the nostalgia was due to having the entire class (save for two changes) since September where normally we switch up at the end of January. We bonded. Maybe, it was the trip a bunch of us took a few weeks ago to see the Jackie Robinson biopic (https://larrydbernstein.com/a-real-hero/).

Yes, it’s natural to bond with the students and that is a quality of a good teacher. However, I don’t want to feel too connected. Don’t scratch your heads. Let me explain.

You all have colleagues whom you see on a regular basis. Well sometimes those colleagues enter a different realm.  He/she becomes someone you have lunch with or you talk about last night’s game or laugh about a movie you both saw. This someone is no longer merely a colleague but is a friend.

My students are my colleagues.  I see them every day. We talk, laugh, and learn (I hope).  Yet, I cannot be friends with them – that is inappropriate and a bit odd. I certainly care about them and wish them well.

During my first year of teaching, I was consumed with the profession. I would talk about my challenges and the students all the time. Every conversation came around to teaching. It was consuming. I realized then, with the help of some more veteran colleagues and friends who were in the profession, that if I wanted to stay in the job, I would have to allow myself some distance.

It was sage advice. Each year I have gotten better at separating life and work. This separation makes me a better teacher, father, and husband. I still think about the students and lessons but now, I am not consumed by the thought of work.

It’s not always easy. I remember my 5th year of teaching. The first class I worked with as freshmen (and taught many of them in their later years) were no longer in the building. I was walking the halls and looking for Nicole, Wesley, Diana, etc. even though they had graduated the past June. It was a tough transition.

So, I miss my students. I wish them well as they move on. Next year, I will have a whole new set of colleagues. Bring them on. First, I will enjoy July and August.

Courtesy of Google

Courtesy of Google

The Third Row

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It was one o’clock in the afternoon during the middle of the week. I was not giving writing instruction, engaging in literary discussion, overseeing group work, or even watching the clock anxious for an unruly class to be dismissed.

Instead, I sat in the third row and watched a performance. While, it was not quite Broadway, I was mesmerized throughout the entire twenty minute production. I did not check my cell phone, consider grading papers, or mentally review a piece I am writing.

It was SJ’s kindergarten graduation. The children sang and danced and said the lines that their teacher had been drilling into their minds through many practices.  During the performance, I wore my proud sentimental dad hat. The teacher and freelance writer hats were off.

SJ performing at his kindergarten graduation.

SJ performing at his kindergarten graduation.

—

A big part of being a good employee is to be responsible, productive, and efficient.  In this day and age where it still feels like job security is tenuous, it is natural to feel pressure to constantly be on.  Therefore, some may be thinking, while a kindergarten graduation is sweet, is it worth taking a day off from work for this?  My internal debate over this question lasted seconds. I had the time, and this is exactly what I wanted to use it for.

These days there is much talk about balancing work and family. It used to be that women were the ones who were primarily responsible for child care and or struggled in this balance. However, recently a Pew Research Center survey (http://www.pewsocialtrends.org/2013/03/14/modern-parenthood-roles-of-moms-and-dads-converge-as-they-balance-work-and-family/) found that “50% of working dads say they find it very or somewhat difficult to balance these responsibilities.”  According to the survey, “46% of fathers say they are not spending enough time with their children.” Yet, they also want to work full time at a high-paying job. By the way, this conflict is occurring for men in all types of jobs including professional athletes (http://www.philly.com/philly/sports/eagles/20130605_Sconce_shopping_puts_Eagles__Cary_Williams_in_a_bad_light.html)

Something has to give.  And ultimately, each of us has to make his or her own decisions on how to balance family and work. There is no right answer.

While I feel some sense of contentment at work, sometimes, I think I could and should be further along in my career. I question whether I am reaching or on track to reach my full potential. Isn’t part of my job as a parent to demonstrate a work ethic? Then, I wonder if I made more money, would my family be better off? It certainly would relieve certain stresses (and bring others – I know).

My job allows me to be home early. For three days a week, I am the parent in charge. Dinner, homework, bathing are all my responsibility.  While this may leave me grunting and frustrated at times, I enjoy the bonding time and recognize its importance. I know my boys. I know their best friends’ names. I know their favorite television shows. I know what they like to read.

It’s nine o’clock and the boys are in bed (normally).  It should be time for winding down – maybe watch some television, read, surf the net or talk with my wife. However, I don’t take this luxury. Instead, part two of my work day begins. It’s time for lesson planning, grading papers, or writing an article, blog post, etc.

So, I struggle like many others with balancing work and family. I strive to give my children the best of me and find meaning in work. Either way, I am happy to sit in the third row knowing that is where I should be.

High Speed Chase

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I walked in dejected.  I rummaged through my pockets, emptied my briefcase, and checked my lunch bag.

“What is it? What are you doing,” my wife asked.

“I forgot my phone on the bus.”

My wife called the bus company. With the third announcement of, “All operators are busy. Please stay on the line. We appreciate your patience,” my wife said, “Do you know the bus route?”

“I think so.”

“Why don’t you try and catch it?”

And so began a high speed chase.

Nary a moment passed as I hopped into my car. I would have gone in through the window ala Bo and Luke Duke getting into the The General Lee (I know Dukes was cheesy with Confederate overtones. However, I loved the car chases and seeing Catherine Bach in her Daisy Dukes.  I waited and hoped for a wardrobe malfunction). But, the windows were merely cracked on my 2005 Grey Honda Accord. This slowed me some but, to make up time, I didn’t allow the standard warm-up time for the engine.

Dukes of Hazzard photo courtesy of Google.

Dukes of Hazzard photo courtesy of Google.

Wait, it gets crazier.

I soon was on Saddle River Road (in case you want to plot my journey) but saw no sign of the bus. I cranked up the One Direction – “But when you smile at the ground it ain’t hard to tell, You don’t know…” Damn, that song is still catchy (https://larrydbernstein.com/top-40-kids/).  Of course, I’d rather have been listening to Springsteen.

One Direction - courtesy of Google.

One Direction – courtesy of Google.

This car chase motored into another city, Glen Rock, where the speed limit is a whopping 25 miles per hour. Larry Leadfoot was speeding along Ackerman Avenue at 35 miles per hour.

In the immortal words of Pee Wee Herman: I’m a loner, Dottie. A rebel.

Despite my rebellious bad ass self, my mission was incomplete. Still no bus in sight. I was at a crossroads. I no longer saw bus stop signs and wasn’t certain of the bus route. While I was weighing the option of heading directly to the end of the bus line, I saw not one but two buses drive past perpendicularly. (By the way, I got a D in high school geometry. I hated that class with a passion.) So, I made a right turn on to Maple Avenue and was hot on the trail. I was feeling confident.

But which bus held my phone? I was two car lengths behind when I saw a passenger get off one of the busses. I know this guy. He is an older construction guy.  I’ve eavesdropped on many of his conversations. Actually, he talks so loud that “eavesdropping” is not the proper term. He doesn’t go two sentences without using the f-word (this chase scene is PG-13).  He also is very knowledgeable about his trade.     

A nagging question haunted me: how was I going to get on that bus? Where is Keeanu Reeves when you need him?

Speed Movie Poster courtesy of Google.

Speed Movie Poster courtesy of Google.

I considered parking and running after it. It was hot, and I am tired on Fridays. Next. I thought about trying to get in front of the bus, but we were on a one-lane road which did not allow for passing even when the bus dropped off more passengers. I decided the first thing I needed to do was to get the license plate number – which I did. And then, I forgot it 30 seconds later. I did, however keep the bus in my sights. Then, trouble came in the form of a traffic light. 

The bus made a left on to South Ridgewood Avenue. When I was ready to turn, the traffic light had been yellow for a few seconds. I went for it. And made it. And only checked three times for cops. I’mma crazy – right?

The bus finally reached the end of the line. But wait. The bus driver did not exit the bus. In fact, people were still getting on. I looked for a parking spot and only saw a filled train station lot. Well, I had come too far to stop then. I parked my car in an area that was not designated for parking. I ran out of the car without bothering to roll up the windows and made a run for the bus.

The Eagle has landed. I spoke to the bus driver, who was clearly overwhelmed by my good looks and therefore eager to help. She pulled out a case that was found. Alas, it was not mine. My search of the seat. A good Samaritan had the sense to call my number. The vibration went off and I knew I was good. I took my phone, expressed my gratitude, and walked off the bus.

I drove home at a more careful 25 miles per hour, the adrenaline gone, but my phone safe beside me.