The End of Another School/Work Year

It’s been quite awhile since I’ve written a post.  Now, here it is Memorial Day Weekend, 2012.  I have finished another year of work at school.  I have lots of different feelings about that.

One is pride.  I am proud that I got through the work year.  It was a good school year, and I liked what I did this year, working often one-on-one with a special needs boy.  The boy was funny and smart but had some behavioral issues.  As the year went on, I learned more and more what worked in dealing with him.

Now, as for next year, I still am uncertain whether I will return to this job.  A part of me wants to go back.  I like the camaraderie, although there were plenty of times I felt lonely at school.  I do like working with the children.  They can really make me feel special and wanted and loved and important.

The job has its frustrations.  I am given menial tasks.  Rarely is my opinion sought out by those in greater authority.  I have no power.  I have no creative outlet.  I also see others are given special treatment, have easy jobs ‘created’ for them and get away with doing very little work.  And they add very little to the school system as a whole, and are definitely not helping develop the students’ education.

At this time, I don’t know what or where I would be working next school year.  Maybe this job has run its course.  It has had its perks, and of course, getting the entire summer off is the biggest and nicest perk.  The job was terrific when I was raising Mark.  The school schedule worked perfectly for that.

Also, over the years, this job developed me as a person.  Things I learned at school, like paying attention to detail, and staying focused, were things I could apply to my own life and grow as a result.   I saw how people at the school worked with one another.  Often, some people didn’t get along with others, yet they would set their differences aside and continue to work with them.  I found that to be very professional.  I learned from that.

There are many layers to working at the school in a small town.  Every year, I become aware of a few more pieces of the inner workings of this little community.  It’s quirky, that’s for sure, in both a good and bad way.


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