Ugh...
I am nervous (I think understandably so). Tomorrow, I start my student teaching at Robert Gray Middle School, and boy, what a weekend. Friday--being my last day at OES--was hard. Like, really hard. Which I know sounds very strange, especially given the way that I usually speak, but I cannot think of any other way to describe it. I was invited to give a speech during Middle School chapel--What does home mean to you, and what did OES give you/ what did you learn after OES?--and I broke down during my speech. I don't regret doing so, because I think that it's important for teens to see that it's OK for a grown man to cry, but I do think that it put a damper on what should otherwise have been an exciting Homecoming celebration.
Anyway, Saturday and Sunday were both filled with things to do. Saturday was homework, biking the route I'll take to work (the hills...the hills...guess I'll have to provide my own music), shopping for a few things, depositing the last paycheck I'll get for about six months. Having lunch with my dad, step mom, and sister...things like that. Anyway, I moved into a new apartment about two weeks ago, and unpacking has been a little tough. I just don't have much furniture. So, today I finally got a few things that I've been needing. I got a few plastic drawers (on sale) to act as a chest of drawers. I got a bookshelf (on sale) so I can put away some of my books. I also got a TV stand, so the box-that-brings-Netflix no longer has to sit on the floor. And let me tell you, putting all those things together took a long, long time (pictures later...scratch that, after I clean a bit, video of the apartment later).
So, if you couldn't tell, I'm trying to ignore tomorrow. Why? Well, like I said, I'm nervous. Quite frankly, I think that's a good thing. Let's look at my recent teaching experiences. I went over to Japan, thinking that it was going to be just like Summer Camp (and just like Oregon), and that I'd just breeze through and have no problems. "Ah", he said, three years later, "the naivety of youth." I get back, subbing goes well--though there are some intense struggles, a portent to come--and then Summer is *mostly* amazing. School year comes along, and I think a year in Kindergarten (my hardest age group, I had already found out) and Second grade was going to be challenging, but relatively straight forward. But what do you know, having a less centralized curriculum means that you have to be a bit more willing to go with the flow. Still, I learned a ton, and I am so incredibly thankful for the experience.
Now, we come to tonight. Tomorrow means new kids, a new place, and a new way of doing things (it's a whole new way to see [do-do-do do doo doooo]). I am terrified. I am excited for all of the glorious mistakes that I'm going to learn from this year--at least, that's what I keep telling myself--but I'm also terrified. I think, deep down inside, that I just don't want the things around me to change. A week ago, I knew where everything was, and how everything worked. Now...all that I have are my wits, and what small amount of knowledge I've learned to get me through. And even though it's terrifying, I know that it will be good for me. I will have experiences that I never otherwise would have had, and get wisdom from people I never otherwise would have met. I just have to remember a few things. 1) I am, at this moment, a temporary guest at this place. In all probability, in six months I will be moving on to different things, while they will continue to be there. Therefore, it is my duty to not only get to know how to best serve them, but to ensure that I cause as few disruptions as possible. 2) Though a kind of perfection should be my goal, it will not be the end of the world if I never achieve it. Everyone is expecting me to be new at this, and to make strange mistakes. So long as I not only take them with tranquility, but a mind open to learn from them, I will be fine. 3) I will get out of this what I put in. I assume that it will be completely possible for me to get by with a minimum of effort. I simply go in, do what I need to do, say what I need to say, stay as long as I need to stay, and then get out. However, by doing so I cheat not only myself, but my students. They deserve my best, and only by giving my best can I grow as much as I can. I should take as many risks and opportunities now as I can, when it's a safe environment. It might shake me to the core, but it's the least that I can do.
One last thing, before I sign off. I like baking. No, actually, I love baking. So, to quiet my nerves. I made apple sauce tonight. I wasn't thinking far enough forward to take pictures (sad face) but I'm sharing the recipe all the same. It's perfect for a cold-weather night, and enjoy.
1) Discover that your new room mate brought apples, and they should probably be eaten soon.
2) Put about 3/4 of an inch of water in the bottom of a large pan, and set it on the stove on mid-low.
3) Slice an apple, then remember that you have no way to peel it. Recall a tool your roomie had mentioned earlier, and dig frantically through the Good Will pile to find it. Smile at yourself when you do.
4) Slice and peel five apples, and put them carefully in the water.
5) Add a sixth apple (golden delicious, though oddly tart, you note) as well, for flavor texture.
6) Note the slight smoke creeping up the back side of the pan, and worry that the apartment will burn down.
7) Imagine the apartment burning down, and check under the pot.
8) Turn the heat up to the highest, in the vain hope that it will stop the smoke.
9) Pick up the pot, and realize that the burner is just burning off a weird residue. Reset the heat to medium-low.
10) Hear water boiling, and add in a boat load of sugar.
11) Hope that you added in enough sugar.
12) Open your new cinnamon, and realize that there's a piece of paper underneath. Despite your feeble attempts, the paper will not come off. Poke holes instead, and shake in vain until a small amount of cinnamon comes out.
13) Add in your brand new cloves and nutmeg. Curse at how much nutmeg come streaming out.
14) Shake your cinnamon wildly, and add in more sugar until the smell of nutmeg has been reduced from a global deluge to a local flood. Hope that you did enough.
15) Mix them all together, and wait until the apples are mushy.
16) Remove apple slices from the soup, and mash them with a fork. Yay, apple sauce.
17) Put the soup in mugs, and drink it like it's delicious apple cider. Yay, warm drink.
There we go, recipe done. Anyway, this has been another Adventure in the Austentatious. If you liked it, tell your friends. If you hated it, tell your enemies. And if you didn't care either way, then tell everyone. Good night.
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