So, turns out that I really DID make it through to Thanksgiving, Christmas, and eventually, MLK. Who knew I'd actually survive a full semester of classes. God knows I have had plenty of sabotage attempts along the way. I never knew working in school would continue to be so bloody, so political. Oh, well. Such is life. One of the alumni from the school died last week. He was a kid from our Academy in the school, as well, so that made things very hard for us. The morning we all heard, one of my teaching neighbors (a good friend, too) was crying when we got called to an emergency staff meeting. I thought after I had heard and saw everyone around me in grief or distant shock that somehow, I'd be able to take it. Well, turns out that this particular student, a very loved, respected member of our community, was captain of the hockey team. I have three of the hockey players, all seniors, and the heartbreak came when I saw them, red-eyed, hunched over, grieving. It was seeing them that wrenched my stomach, and convinced me that it would be a long day for everyone. I guess the moral of this last week is that somehow, I have worked my own feelings for my kids into the grooves of my existence at my school. I didn't quite realize how much I care for all of them until last Tuesday. It was one of the strangest revelations I came to, and it meant more than anything I've done this year. That made my Thursday even better. For the end of the semester, my students are all building simple AM radios from handmade components. The only thing I supply previously made is a diode (unless they want to make their own). Three of my students, by way of their own soldering guns and glue sticks, hammered out their own simple radios and made them work. They heard a lot of Glenn Beck, Rush Limbaugh, and NPR. It was fantastic to see the looks on their faces. You should have seen them. They stared at their chintzy looking radios, one hand holding open a capacitor made of cardboard and aluminum foil, the other on the shortcut of an adjustable coil, and then looked at me, only to say "that's so awesome" or "that's so weird", in complete awe. One student heard Backstreet Boys, and couldn't help but dance quietly in her seat. It was fantastic. At that point, my own emotional investment in our class took me over. I couldn't help it. I cried after that class, because it was amazing to know that something had gome smoothly, and that my students felt like they were learning something. Then I jumped around in the pod after the bell rang to dismiss everyone. It was wonderful, I tell ya. It was the moment I signed on for. It's easy to sit in this coffee shop in Bath on MLK, no school to teach, nothing to do but watch the snow falling in town, and write about how much I've come to love my work, despite the politics and the bitching, despite all the rough times. I only hope that you have experienced a moment like that for yourself, or that someday, you will. That's the school front. Married life continues to be good, but rough. Shannon and I still live half-apart, and I'm wondering if I shouldn't leave my school so that we might find better job opportunities for Shannon further south. All I know is that the pickings are slim for her and plentiful for me, and I wonder whether or not we can take another semester of living apart, especially since I'm considering returning to the University for Upward Bound again this summer. That will be yet another seven weeks apart, and I am not sure if that is something I can handle. But, Shannon and I always hang in there, always keep trucking through, as usual. It's never been an option to lose one another. So, that's life at January. Tomorrow, I'll pray for a school cancellation because of the snow, and hope that I can steal an internet connection at home so that I can get some more work done. We'll see how that works out. ;)