Tomorrow is a late start. Almost every Tuesday this year has been a late start.
I look forward to getting to school early–actually, it’s the same time I get to school every day, even though I do not have a first period–and sharing ideas and lessons with my colleagues. I know some people think that is sarcasm, but I never shy away from creating lessons, tests, questions, or anything else our department can, and does, use.
But tomorrow is also going to bring a horror show. At 8:50, when the bell rings to suggest that first period has started, hundreds upon hundreds of students will be outside their designated classes. And, since they are already tardy, they will not hustle to right their earlier wrong. Mind you, this is 50 minutes later than school usually starts, and many of our students do NOT walk to school, so they have that extra time to get to school on time. Parents who drop students off, given this reprieve of time, will not take advantage of it.
Now, perhaps I’m being a bit dramatic. Surely, this can’t be the case. We’ll see.
The other tragedy that will occur tomorrow is that my students will not have read. Once again, they will have had almost an extra hour to knock down some pages of Cry, The Beloved Country. It will not go well.
Now, perhaps I’m . . . Wait. I already wrote that.
One of Oceania’s mottoes in 1984 is Freedom is Slavery. Tomorrow, we are going to give almost an extra hour of freedom to students, and we might as well imprison them with it. This freedom from school could be spent doing all kinds of good things school-related–catching up on work, reading, homework, getting ahead on anything. This freedom could see them hanging out with friends, eating some breakfast, sharing a laugh or two about something that ISN’T related to school. You know, just kids getting together and talking.
Okay. On another note, I cut my hair this weekend. My students saw me in the hallways and commented on it. They commented on it in class. Some asked if I got a haircut (pretty easy to tell) while others were taken aback when I told them I cut it myself, with some help from the wife. There was actually a little dialogue today about my hair.
And that’s about hair. Imagine the things we could talk about if we all read the same book.