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So much depends upon a room full of teachers at the beginning of the school year somewhere in America. As I launch this twenty-fourth episode of my brilliant carreer, I'm impressed by the utter ordinariness of these opening rituals. Teachers across the nation are, have been, or will be clutching coffee, doughnuts, and multiple administrative handouts as they sigh and shift in seats that are never too cushy, while a responsible person tries to impress them with the deadly serious consequences of dress code amendments and voice-mail procedures. The Necessaries. Though I had to stand when my name was called, I didn't have to meet everybody all at once. And that's a good thing, because this is the largest faculty I've encountered in all these years (89 - if you count ten administrators). Since July 8 I've had occasion to revisit my assigned classroom and rub off some of its strangeness. It is no longer as narrow, tall, or spider-infested as I originaly reported. The physical map of Israel on the back wall remains - and seems to be getting uglier by the day, primary contributor to a certain dinginess about the place. A lot of junk has been removed from the closet, but a pile of Physical Science materials still clutters up the window sill. I have promised not to throw anything away. When last I saw her today, my Solid Gold Department Chair was setting off to locate a crank for my still-quite-tall tower of windows. Great service at this restaurant. Tomorrow is the third day of meetings, more new teacher stuff like learning about the grading procedures and software. We also get to hear from the Dean's Office on all the wonderful forms and procedures they've got. I promise myself not to be too hard on them in tomorrow's entry (if there is one). Out to dinner with most of the gang after our community meeting this evening. No running tonight - too much pasta. I'll be a better boy tomorrow. |
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When teachers themselves are taught to learn. Bertolt Brecht |