A Retrospective of 1987 – Part I
Alright. It’s time to climb into the time machine and go back to a year that I swore I never wanted to relive: 1987. That was the year for big hair, big shoulder pads and my first big job. I had fulfilled my dream to become … (drum roll, please)… a High School Science Teacher. Through the use of hands-on Science experiences, I was going to change the world!
Yes, back in 1987, I had a lot of enthusiasm, a lot of scientific knowledge, and a lot of gel and hairspray but not a lot of technical prowess when it came to actually teaching. I was especially weak in the area of classroom management. When I interviewed for my first job, I was wearing a verdant blouse. Several years later, my principal teased me that my blouse color summed up my first year: Green!
And, indeed, it was a bumpy year. I did not have my own room; I was a “traveling” teacher. Because I taught Science, I had a huge roller cart that carried all my teacher belongings: papers, pens, folders, overhead projectors, transparencies, markers and of course tons of materials for that day’s laboratory experiments. I was quite a sight to behold! There I was, dressed professionally in skirts, suit jackets (with shoulder pads, of course) and dress shoes pushing a giant rolling version of the strangest homeless person’s shopping cart you have ever seen.
It often had surgical scissors, scalpels, dissecting trays and, some preserved animal or plant that was hitching a ride through the hallways. Not only did it look unseemly, but the smell was often overwhelming.
I had 5 minutes between classes to pack up my cart and roll it to my next classroom. Often, my students entered the room long before I did. This gave them more time than I had to prepare for that class period. However, their plans were not my plans. They made paper airplanes which made their way through the air every time my back was turned. I found spit wads in some very unusual location: under desks, on the walls, stuck to the sides of my “homeless” cart and adhered to my briefcase. How could I not catch them throwing these nasty things? It was a mystery. Also, the students would talk while I was trying to explain something. So I would talk louder, which made them talk louder, which made me talk louder…I think you get the picture. It was like something out of a bad teen movie. Except this was real life. My life!
Even during my planning period, I had no place to call my own. I would try to find a small corner of someone else’s room, but often I would end up in the library. This was a pretty good solution, except the librarian would not allow me to bring my cart in when it smelled…and it almost always smelled! Therefore, every few minutes, I had to go out in the hall to check and make sure no one absconded with any of my teaching materials.
I often referred to that first year of teaching as “My Mack Truck Year” because at the end of every school day I felt as if I had been run over by a Mack Truck! I was exhausted. Planning lessons and labs, grading all homework, labs, tests and quizzes, filling out standard teaching paperwork and attending teacher meetings was enough to make me question my chosen profession.
I had 4 preps: two sections of Physical science, 8th grade Earth science, High school Earth Science, and 3 sections of General Science.
I probably would have quit after that first year except that there were glimmers of hope. I had moments in the classroom when I knew that students were connecting with what I was teaching them. I saw kids who had never used a microscope prior to my class, discover that they had a real knack for focusing this particular instrument. In addition, they were fascinated by the tiny world that was now visible to them. I had others who found that they had skills with a scalpel which made them re-think their career choices.
These precious gems in the midst of the muck and mire of that first year were enough to help sway my decision to return to the classroom. Also, I do not enjoy failure and I felt that I could not leave my rookie profession on such a low note. Even though the thought made my stomach queasy, I found myself signing a teaching contract for a second year. Actually, I was quite relieved I was even offered a second year contract, but the story of how I almost lost my first job is a tale for another time…or should I say, time machine!