(At 4 pm…)
This blog entry is going to be, I’m afraid, a dreadful mishmash of things that have happened in the last couple of weeks. Bear with me. Heh. Get it? BEAR with me?
I’m getting along fine with the kids, or at least with the majority of them. Just like any school, there are some kids who don’t want tobe here and view me as their jailer. I have to admit to a fondness for my fifth graders who play Connect Four like old men play chess in the park – fast and cutthroat. And I enjoy the middle school kids. I spend three hours a day with them, so we’ve gotten to know each other pretty well. Plus a couple of the boys remind me of my nephews, whom I miss more than I can say. (I miss my niece,too!) The high school kids, however, are not sold on me. Not are they sold on The Hunger Games. I can understand not liking me, but The Hunger Games?? Crazytime.
The teacher housing is the old school into apartments. (The current school was built in 2004 and is super nice.) There are five apartments, with three currently occupied. Steve and Joan live in one and Don lives in the other. My dog, Cricket, lives for the moment when I say, “Let’s go visit!” every night.The other teachers might get tired of me showing up all the time, but no one can resist Cricket. There are no other dogs in the building, so she’s a sure thing. There are lots of dogs running around the village, mostly German Shepherds and Lab mixes. However, Cricket isn’t built for the cold, and there are plenty of wild animals around who would see her as a tasty snack. Specifically, there are foxes living under our building. I think she caught scent of them while she was playing the hallway the other night. She came running back into our apartment, looking exceedingly alarmed, and hid next to me on the sofa, under the blanket. I’m sure I can count on her to protect me from marauding moose.
Tuesday through Thursday, I hold Homework Club (which is where I am now.) The district pays me an extra twenty an hour to do this. This would never happen in Texas, I assure you. Currently, there are only George’s in here. “George” is the nickname I’ve given to the entire 3rd-4thgrade class. It’s basically an easy way not to have to remember their names. They are allowed to call me George back. Other than that the kids mostly call me by my first name, which takes some getting used to. In the Lower 48, a teacher who allows kids to call her by her firstname would only last a year or two. It’s kind of representative of your choiceas whether to be the kids’ friend or their teacher. Here’s it’s the norm.
One of my seventh grade students came to school with a bandage around his wrist on Monday.
Me: What happened?
Student: I got it caught in my trap.
Me: Oh no! What were you trapping?
Student: Lynx.
Further conversation revealed that he had been trappingsince he was about nine and that he checks his trap lines every day before and after school. He asked me if he caught a hare and it was still alive, did I want him to bring it in?
Me: Only if I can keep it as a pet.
Student: (confused expression)
There was a big scandal at the school this week because someof the 5th/6th grade girls broke into the concession stand during open gym one night and stole a bunch of candy. As a result, open gym is suspended indefinitely, and so are the girls. Also, this is federal property, so there is a possibility that state troopers may come out to investigate. Not because of the candy. They damaged the door and lock, and everything costs more in Alaska, including repairs.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I got a care package from my parents today. It included chocolate, which means I have plan for the night!
Chocolate. Yum.
slowerthanmolaska 
Poor scaredy dog! 😀