Pain less

I wonder, from time to time, whether writing all this is cathartic for me. It does help a little bit for me to write all these thoughts and feelings. But to what end? Have I any audience? Is my writing without aim? I need to know...I need to know that my words will come of some use and purpose other than offering my heart temporary respite. I come here everyday, with continuing weakened spirits. What's difficult in this place is that I am surrounded with depressed people, who are trying their best to maintain uplifted mindsets. In some sense we offer each other support, but in another regard, we so easily reveal our weaknesses to one another in our weakened states. It's difficult to be strong in such a place and in such circumstances. I miss my colleagues at work at various points each day. I don't miss the heavy loud bell that rings with demonic tone to deafen even the most well-intentioned of teacher. Somehow, there is a reverent atmosphere here. I cannot say that I prefer the bell over the calm that is here, however I can say that the conditions under which I am led to have this calm do trouble me so. At what price is peace worth? To what end must pain be tolerated? I did not know what it was like for a friend of mine who had to go to the Reassignment Center, until now. And now I can say I truly understand why they were in pain, even though they were removed from that place which was also causing them pain to begin with. How, then, can pain be avoided? It seems that one pain is merely replaced with another. Is there escape? I wonder.

Redemption Song

With my response in Ms. Papaliberios' hand, I suspect that she is deliberating my pending future with the department of education. I can only hope that she makes the correct decision and that I am prepared to receive it. Today there are odd happenings in the Reassignment Center. New people come in and former ones just don't seem to leave. I wonder how this all started. How many were there in the beginning? How long will the number serving sentences here continue to increase? I can recall the time I spent in the school's in-house principal's suspension room for the students, where I had to report for duty for one period a day, ad did other teachers for other periods of the day in that room. The students were disillusioned, often confused and angry - at why they were there and also for how it was they were sent to be there. Their spirits were crushed. Similarly, there are many teachers here who are disillusioned with the proceedings that led them to be here. They are certainly confused and angry here. I, too, find myself oscillating between being confused and angry. On other days, I am sad. We are all sad. We don't understand why so many of us are here. Is it only a bureaucracy? How can such wrongness take place? The thing I couldn't imagine before I now experience myself; I didn't know how the minds of the students in the in-house suspension room were handling their predicament. Now I am experiencing what they must surely experience; feeling completely unheard and misunderstood, and so terribly lonely - especially amidst the company of peers.

Judgment Day

Tomorrow Ms. Elena Papaliberios will review my case and decide whether I ought to be terminated or not. I've tried to meet with her but I haven't been granted an audience yet. I don't know how she'll weigh the circumstances. I know that she is well-acquainted with my boss and that such a background will surely influence her decision They most likely have a relationship of trust already built and established, and any attempt on my part to gain her sympathies will likely fall upon deaf ears. How can I convince her that a man she thinks she knows professionally is not as noble or trustworthy as he may present himself? What can I say to her? That he lies? What form will my rebuttal take? Should I defend myself? Explain myself? Excuse myself? I felt just as helpless and ridiculous in the emergency room trying to tell the doctors what was happening to me when I barely understood it myself. It's difficult for me to talk about this kind of thing, to injure myself further by seeing it unresolved but having it reappear and then trying to have to make it go away. I just wanted my pain in the emergency room to go away and never return, and likewise I want the misery from this case to go away and never return. Perhaps I should have faith in Ms. Papaliberios and share these words with her, and write her a letter explaining my feelings and condition.

New Contact

I spoke with the UFT representative that is assigned to my case today when they finally telephoned me. I have difficulty in not feeling foolish when I share the details of my case. Quite frankly, it is embarrassing. I wonder what will happen if I just disappear? What if I went away and never came back? maybe then I wouldn't be missed? Then they wouldn't have to get rid of me, I'll already be gone. I wonder where I can go to escape and find appreciation, or at least pleasant treatment. Maybe I can't go anywhere? Maybe I just have to be by myself? I'm trying to find inspiration within and without myself. Again, I am pondering whether this is something that I should fight, that is worth fighting, or whether I ought to just concede and admit defeat, take my losses and move on. Surely this universal principle of a life-battle is one that we all must face at various points in our lives. I'm reminded of how I am erasing my experience in the emergency room because of how horrible it was to be there. I feared dearly for my life and I would have traded away anything to have that pain stopped. Perhaps I must now consider whether this is what the universe has in store for me, to have me surrender my job and go elsewhere to do something else, which I may not have otherwise chosen to do of my own volition. Is this a test? Is life a test? Or is this a consequence of choices which dictate how we live our lives? I'm also reminded of a couple I know, who have three autistic children, the third of whom they had to give away for adoption. Did they choose that?

Unanswered

I continue to deliberate with myself as to why I am here, what role my own actions played in the situation, and how I could and should react. I am simultaneously reminded of how privileged I am to be here rather than at war, for example, and yet also feel tormented in having to be here. I feel ashamed that I am not stronger to withstand being cast here as the others seem to be able to do, though I do have gratitude that I am not in more dire circumstances. I'm trying to learn as much as I can from this experience; professionally, personally, philosophically, in terms of my relationship with myself and with others. What I cannot understand the most is how my boss has the wherewithal to judge that my probation be discontinued and that my employment be terminated. If he doesn't like me then he can simply have me removed and I will gladly go teach for somebody else at another school. Of course I will miss my students and colleagues, but I am already missing them by having my teaching license denied. At least with a school transfer, a second opinion can be given and somebody else can also determine what my worth is as a teacher. I am appalled at the mistreatment I am shown, given my diligence in the years of service. All the charges that are being made against me are only from very recently - if at all substantiated, not considering my previous years of good service. I suppose they don't care what I've contributed to the school, the students, or the staff. If an alleged mistake is made, there seems to be no restitution provided.

Missed Connections

I had to pick up a friend from the airport yesterday, but they weren't there and the flight was late, and their phone directed me straight to voicemail. Later he telephoned to tell me that he missed his flight because he was arrested on the flight before it left, and was removed from the plane at the airport and thrown in jail.

As I understand it, he was sleepy on the overnight flight. Once seated in the emergency-exit row which he booked to accommodate his 6'6" 250 lbs size as he always does, the flight attendant was presenting the pre-flight safety instructions and the woman next to my friend protested, "this person's not fit to sit here!" and with that a flight attendant asked him to change his seat, and my confused friend uttered, "no," and then was told that the police would be called to which he mumbled, "okay," in a daze. Then all of a sudden the police arrived and shot him with a tazer-gun, which he quickly yanked out of his abdomen. But then he was handcuffed and sat in a jail overnight, not allowed to sleep because they had to check his blood pressure and hear rate every hour until morning, when he was finally allowed to collapse from exhaustion, on the cement floor. He also missed his connecting flight in NYC to Spain that same day, to go perform in a band where he plays guitar and sings. he had to buy new plane tickets, take care of his arrest proceedings, and still he was not persistently angry, although he wanted to be and easily could have been. He didn't want to be consumed by it and for that I admire, respect and honor him. I will learn by his example and likewise maintain a calm composure.

I Rate Irate

Have I mentioned how people here are irritable? Today Tim is extremely frustrated because his cell-phone service provider will not reimburse or compensate him for some extraneous or erroneous charges. What he expressed to be especially frustrating is the greatly insensitive nature of the customer service representative. The representative didn't seem to care about the problem, and having such sympathy could have alleviated a lot of the tension. Even if the problem wasn't resolved, at least some decency could have been shared. This makes me wonder the intelligence behind having customer service representatives who have very little interaction with their customers otherwise. At the same time, the customers have no idea of the representatives' condition, and the representatives have the difficult task of withholding all of their own private frustrations and not consider the customers' outrage as personal attacks. It would be much nicer if places of employment conducted de-stressing workshops for their employees. Perhaps Korea is on the right track after all, considering they periodically have workers take breaks to stretch during group-led sessions.

It seems to me that there is similar relationship in teaching, as that of customer service representatives and customers. The teachers interact with students on such an extended period of time, yet have very little insight into their background. There is barely any other interaction that is so extreme in its ratio. The bus driver doesn't need to have bus-management, yet teachers have to have classroom management. And what of supervisors? Do they have to have staff-management? Rather what I see happening to me here is staff-expulsion. If a bus passenger is unruly, they will be removed from the bus. If a student is unruly, the teacher is removed from having a job.