Remember my earlier posts about how the money is getting tight around the district, and cuts are looming?
The list of possible cuts to our district was published Monday, totaling about $9 million. The board and district officials have to cut about $6 million, so they've built in some wiggle room, since there will be protests against some of the items.
Thankfully, I have not received a visit from the job grim reaper, otherwise known as our principal, this week. The deadline for possibly affected employees to be notified in person has passed, so I guess I'm okay (though I'm still nervous). I'm pretty sure if he would have walked in my room any time this week, even if he was really there to say "Congrats on all those state qualifiers!" my insides would have liquefied lickety-split because I'd be expecting the chopping block speech.
The classes I'm taking to get my masters are made up of all teachers from our district. I know some of them are affected. Class tonight was NO fun. People are worried about their jobs. People are worried about the two final projects we have to turn in before Saturday. People are frustrated by what they perceive as a lack of concrete instructions on the projects. Trust me, I would include myself in that camp, but I also know that you just have to buckle down and do what you're asked sometimes. It's not that bad.
For me, 9 p.m. couldn't have come fast enough tonight. I can't take four hours of people with poor attitudes complaining about work they don't want to do.
It's a necessary evil - you want your masters? You jump through some hoops, write some papers, pay a BUNCH of tuition, and there ya go. The work is not that hard for me - it's simply finding the time to complete it between grading, planning, teaching, having a life outside of school, deadlines, meetings, etc.
I wish I had the guts to just tell the other guys to shut it tonight. I am not the most optimistic person on the planet, but I know it's necessary to make the best of a bad situation sometimes. If you sit somewhere for four hours, the whole time thinking about how awful it is, then it's going to be awful.
I hope that when our next six-week class starts, people are a little more peppy. I don't want to spend my Tuesday nights being depressed for the next 18 weeks!
01.05.23 Fifteen years
1 year ago