I’m sick. My body is tired and my head is filled with mucus. My ears are stuffed and my eyes are itchy. My back hurts a little. When rain comes, or it gets fairly cloudy, my knee starts to ache a bit. But I’m stubborn.
I want to take a day off. Every day I work keeps my body from healing, but that darned stubborness tells me that this is my job, that I have a 180-day plan, and taking a day off for my little ailments equals mental weakness. In my 17+, almost 18 years of teaching at North High, I have taken around 35 sick days, which I don’t even think is the number. Of course I think it’s lower. And I do know that I have not missed a day this year.
My father raised me this way. I remember him being sick and going to work. I remember him cursing the freeways and his fellow “workers” almost daily. I don’t remember him complaining about pay, and I never have either. In teaching, you are told what you get paid from day one, so quit you’re whining.
For the most part, I still like my job, though I’m not sure how much he liked his. Doesn’t really matter now, I suppose.
What I never know is what other teachers think, or how they play out the string, if you will. I don’t know if their heads are filled with school, students, lesson plans, work that must be graded, battles they face daily. Do they sleep well? Does their mind swim? Are they writing lessons in their dreams at 4 in the morning? Are they thinking of email responses to the daily battles while the sun works its way past the blinds?
I’m not taking tomorrow off. I’m stubborn, and I teach. All that crap that goes along with the job has this magical way of going away once the year ends. Each mile that I put between the South Bay and Montana is a clearer breath, clearer head, and a fish waiting to be caught. Dreams no longer feature my classroom or students. My new surroundings feature movies, loud music, good food, and good people.
20 days left. Be stubborn, fellow teachers. https://youtu.be/kzD18q0-Tq0