Back to work

While Jacob Zuma goes another round with the courts as his appeal of their appeal of his appeal was turned down, I'm starting another round of lessons. In the famous words of the writer of Lamentations, 'There is nothing new under the sun.'

So - that said, it was off to work I went today. (I did go in yesterday too, to do my filing from last year so my desk is clear for the start of this year.) It's not officially the start of work for me, but new staff and management are required to be in today. They do the induction procedures today, so that when school officially opens on Monday, the new staff are (in theory at least) up to speed.

I was really quite nervous about going in, but I'm glad I did. Probably a 3rd of the staff were in, and I had a lovely natter with many of them. Of course, the first question was about the pregnancy, and I was surprised by how easily I could share with them the myriad of dead baby thoughts I've been having.

(Yup, still having them... tomorrow is the start of week 16, when one is supposed to be able to start feeling movement. Let's hope I feel something SOON. I have been reassuring myself though, by telling myself that since there's no blood, I'm not miscarrying, and so the baby is still alive. It's working in my more rational moments.)

Unfortunately, I never got to meet any of the new staff, but I did notice they overheard my comments, and some of their expressions would have been laughable if I wasn't so worried about what people think of me - first impressions, and all that. Now I fear they have already decided I'm that "lunatic pregnant woman who thinks her baby is dead". Sigh!

Something else that struck me this morning is that, just as I'm getting determined to have a life APART from my baby and this pregnancy (ever notice how new mothers only seem to talk about their baby's poo? you'd be amazed how fascinating a topic it is!), other people have decided that's all they want to know about. I realised that I'm going to have to answer the same question a million times over and that it's pointless getting frustrated about it. People are concerned about me (aaah, sweet!) and so are going to enquire about the pregnancy, and since we have a staff of over 60 teachers (let alone support staff!), that means I'm going to be talking about the minutiae of the pregnancy a HANG of a lot - unless I decide to hang out in my classroom for the next 4 months, which I'm not inclined to do.

So, after dreading this week, and dreading going back, and feeling FAR TOO TIRED to start teaching again, I'm now looking forward to Monday. I'm looking forward to seeing my colleagues, and I'm actually looking forward to having a bunch of pip squeaks as my tutor group.

As I was driving home at lunch time, I was listening to the radio, and just caught the end of a programme. The DJ was reading out Obama's letter to his daughters, about why he ran for president. It was incredibly well written, and incredibly inspiring. (I'd love to get hold of a copy of the text and read it to the kids at school one assembly.) It made me think about what I want for Janel, and the priorities of my life as a result.

I want Nellie to have the best education possible - stimulating, engaging, challenging. I want her to be enabled and inspired. I found myself questioning my own teaching style. If she were in my class, would I make more effort in my lesson prep? Would I change my style of teaching? Would I be more or less demanding? Would I be more or less sympathetic to the problems encountered? Would I be more or less willing to take risks?

All of which, inevitably led me to this question: Why do I treat the children I teach any differently to how I would treat Nellie if she were in my class? It made me realise afresh that every little pip squeak and near-adult I teach has parents who feel the same way about them as I feel about Janel. If I want the best for Nellie, don't I have the responsibility to make sure I'm also giving the best to these other kids? Surely every child I teach is as precious (to God if not to their parents or me) as Janel is, and has the same worth?

I know it's easy, at the start of the year, to make grand plans and to be enthusiastic about education, and to put lots of energy into stuff. I know it's easy to make resolutions. I also know it's not so easy to put them into practice. But I have one resolution at school for this year: I will take 30 seconds at the start of every class (or at least at the start of every day) to imagine that Janel is sitting in that class, and then I will try to teach every child as if he or she WAS Janel.

Of course, that's not to say that I always do right as a parent. Often, I'm more interested in my own stuff than in spending time with her. Often, I'm too tired to really give her of my best. Often (especially when she is tired and cranky) she annoys me intensely, and then I respond in kind, rather than with love and understanding and patience and grace. I'm far from perfect as a parent. So this resolution comes with fine print. But I will try.

Hey ho, hey ho, it's off to work I go....