Junk In My Trunk

It's an embarrassing time of year for teachers. I filled my car up with all of my stuff from my classroom. Old music that I used stuffed in boxes, piano music, vocal music, lesson plans, overhead sheets for teaching piano, various knickknacks, schoolwork neatly tucked into folders for just in case throughout the year... I gave them their folders, but some didn't want their work. I thought it was sad, so I kept it all. I took things down from the walls... I took home the Bingo cards and equipment in the box that I had intended to use as a fundraiser. It didn't work out that way. I had such great ideas.

It all sounds so simple when i write about it, but this is a year's worth of stuff now packed in my car. When I was in college everything I owned somehow fit in my car. Now it's not so simple. Being a choir and piano teacher meant having books and books and tons of sheet music.

I couldn't bring myself to erase the sweet notes that the kids had written to me on the last day of school or the 08 on the back window. The junk is still in my trunk and in the back seat of my car. I know I need to clean it out, but somehow my energy slipped out from under me. I have been driving around for a week with it all.

Over the week I discovered a what used to be a bag of baby carrots that had been cooked in my car. It took me awhile to figure out what those brownish little stumps were. Prunes? I don't eat prunes. a vanilla candle melted in a bag in the back seat from the 100 degree heat. Hehe, oops. I think it's time.

MySpace is Great!

When I first got a friend request from Armine, I was really surprised. I wasn't sure what would be the end result of that. I was hesitant to accept her friend request, but decided to anyway. Then I got an email, which I was hesitant to open, but finally did today.

From: Armine
Date: Jun 21, 2008 5:52 PM


hey miss d.
it's armine.
the one you probably hate.
I think its really cooll that you have a myspace!
im sorry for being such a b-i-t-c-h to you.
i have been through so much this year and it made me be like that.


----------------- Reply Message -----------------

Hi Armine,

Thanks for writing to me to tell me that. It means alot to me. I like you. I felt really sad that we had problems because I know how much you like to sing.

Take care,
Miss D

Due to the response I received from the students I had last year--several friend requests since school ended, I wish I had let them know about my account a long time ago. It's a professional site through myspace music, so it doesn't have personal information like if I am single and all that lame stuff. It's only about the music.

Tears of Joy

This card one of my students made really touched my heart. I also think it's cute when they call me Mrs. instead of Miss.

The More I Listen

The more I listen to my students, the more I learn about the behind the scenes drama that led to my apparent demise. For a short time we had a student who hailed from a school with an established choral program. I sat with Lisa talking after working with her on a song. I really miss giving private lessons.

Lisa: When Ruth was here, she said you weren't a very good teacher.
MissD: I was really sick when she was here, and have a pretty serious injury to my right arm so I was having a hard time.
Lisa: She said the teacher at her other school was way better.
MissD: I can see why she would think that. I'm friends with that teacher. He's been there for 20 years.
Lisa: How long have you been teaching?
MissD: This was my first year teaching choir.
Lisa: Oh, that explains alot.
MissD: It's hard to compare what he has over there to what is going on over here. 20 years building up his program compared to trying to take over what was going on here is totally not fair at all.
Lisa: Some of the other kids were getting together and saying that they wanted to give you a bad time just for fun.
MissD: Yes, and that's something else that the other choir teacher doesn't have. The sad thing is, they accomplished their goals and tore up the choir program in the process. Good job!
Lisa: Next year will be better. No one will remember Mr. M. You have some kids that really like to sing and now that you've been here, you can kick some of the others out.

Yes, Lisa, next year no one will remember Mr. M, and I will try hard to forget. I will be somewhere else. I promise not to forget you, though. You were one of my sweet things. I hope you make it through to graduation. I hope you get away from your mom who beats you. I hope you make it.