Wha-Bam.

Day 78

Monday

UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF.

Pair that long sound with a subtle shake of the head and you’ve summed up my Monday. The process of getting back into the groove is almost as hard as getting the groove in the first place. With no sun to tempt you out of bed at 6am motivation really becomes a matter of intrinsic capability. Can you will yourself to get up? Luckily I wasn’t the only one out of whack. The rest of my school and my students were also a bit stiff. Over the break the internet in our school broke down, the heat we’d wished they’d put in never came (not that it ever will), and all the students forgot English and the basic act of sitting still. So it’s 9am and I’m staring out at a sea of second graders bundled up like delicate glassware to be shipped on horse and cart across a gravel road. Once stripped down to their stylish little sweaters and gym pants the day began, or rather, the story telling began. I had forgotten the urgency with which a child must tell their teacher about all they did and all the gifts they received for Christmas. It was odd to be on the receiving end of the stories; I had forgotten how important the act of re-telling was. And it made me wonder what I chose to tell my colleges and my friends about my break and what I heard when they spoke to me about their vacations. With my colleagues there was a lot of “oh, nothing special. Had a nice dinner with the family. Opened gifts, really the usual.” But with children everything was intensely hyperbolic. The got the COOLEST video game or the most AWESOME legos or the PRETTIEST doll. When do adults lose that high octane energy for life? Why was dinner not STUPENDOUS? Why did we not think the break was MAGICAL? And if we do think these things, why don’t we say it?

And why worry about getting back into the groove when being out of the groove was STELLAR?




I thought it appropriate to show the town plaque, 2 horses battling in mid-air. The normal need not always be normal.