The Dread of August

Everyone knows about (and is, quite rightly, jealous of) a teacher’s summer vacation. Eight uninterrupted weeks in which to do whatever we choose. Some people travel to new places and see new things; some travel to familiar places and see old friends and family; some stay home and work on their house or read lots of books; some have other jobs and other lives (I worked on an organic farm in New Hampshire for 13 summers); some (I like to call them “overachievers”) read school-related books and think about the year to come. But all of us have eight weeks of a slower pace, waking up each morning wondering what to do that day, and lots and lots of “me” time.

What you may not be aware of, however, is the dread of August. When you turn the calendar from July to August, something happens, and it isn’t good. In June, you have the whole summer ahead of you. In July you are well into whatever you are doing. But August… poor August. August means that it’s all over. You have only two weeks left. You have to start thinking soon, getting back to a schedule soon, wearing respectable clothes soon. The advent of August affects people differently. Some get moody and grumpy, others depressed. For me it is the anxiety dream. Like clockwork, on August 1st I begin to have anxiety dreams about school. For many years the dreams focused on classroom management. Holy terrors would take over my class and wreak havoc. But once I got classroom management under control in my real world, it was no longer a source of anxiety for me, so no longer a focus of my dreams. No, the dreams turned to the one thing that I truly had no control over: my classroom when I wasn’t there. I don’t mean the kids, I mean the room itself. My dreams usually had me returning from break or a weekend, and finding that Camp or Extended Day had destroyed my room (in reality, they are MUCH better now than they were when I first started to work there). One time I dreamed that my teammates had all come in over the weekend (true), redesigned our entire curriculum (possible), and reorganized my room (they wouldn’t DARE!).

Last night, a day ahead of schedule, I had my first anxiety dream. I dreamed that I came in one morning to find that the risers in my room had been removed. In reality my classroom had no desks, rather tables and chairs scattered about, a rug in front of the chalkboard, and the risers with my chair and white board in front of it. The risers were where I did all of my teaching, where the kids would start and end their day, where they would go when they finished a task. They were the source of calm and structure in my room. They were where I could easily control my class. And in my dream they were suddenly gone (as were all of my teammates’ risers as well). Some sweeping decision had obviously been made, and the maintenance guy had removed my risers. In my dream I was getting ready to abandon my class (all of two kids… not sure where the rest of the troops were ) so I could storm down to my boss’s office and raise holy hell.

At that point I woke up, heart pounding and quite agitated. It took me a moment to realize that that dream was totally out of place. I don’t have to worry about August 1st, because this year time doesn’t really have the same meaning. I am taking a break from teaching, gave up that room, turned in my keys to the school (well, not really, but everybody and their grandmother has keys to that school!). I am on my Gap Year, which is a whole year of a slower pace and “me” time.

The dreams I should be having, and without a doubt will appear, will involve missing flights, lost luggage, not being able to find a place to stay or something to eat. Next year I will have to let myself be at the mercy of strangers, and let myself be okay with just going with the flow. I will have to relinquish the control I have over much of my life and what happens to me on a day-to-day basis.

In thinking about it, maybe that dream wasn’t so out of place. It was about losing the source of control that I have. Maybe it was just trying to get me ready to let go of the structure, the organization, the control next year. That will surely be the toughest thing for me in my travels. I’d like to say I’m ready for it, but my dreams may be telling me otherwise. Perhaps I should carry around a teacher plan book (blank, of course) to at least appear to have some semblance of control over what happens each day.

As it is still July, though, I need to get to the tough job of deciding what I will do with the blank slate that is today.

It cost HOW much?

I got the first of my many plane tickets today, this one from New York to London. It cost a whopping $7.50. Yes, that was seven dollars and fifty cents. Our dear friend Tommy the Wig (He is a wig-maker, hence the name. If you have seen Wicked or any opera at the Met in the last five years, you've seen his great work.) said he would give me some of his myriad frequent flier miles for the first leg of my trip. So the ticket came out to costing $7.50 (which he is also generously paying for-- I could have gotten that!). Thank you, thank you, Tommy!

Does anyone perhaps have a bunch of frequent flier miles that they would like to donate from Qatar Airways??

Guests

I got a lovely letter from a connection in Australia inviting me to use their guest house for a week while I am on my travels. I responsed back that I would love to use it the week of Christmas.

I received an email from her saying she hadn't realized WHEN I was thinking of coming, and that time didn't work for them. (No problem, I have other connections that I'll use and abuse.) She then went on to talk about how everyone wants to come stay and how many guests they'll have this year. This to the woman who had seven guests last weekend, a different seven this week, and another THIRTEEN at the weekend! A house in Australia is much like an apartment in NYC, she wrote. Yes, or a beach house in the summer...

(People ask me what I do during the summer, and they think I'm joking when I respond "Make beds.")