From theTHINGS-THEY-NEVER-TEACH-YOU-ABOUT-IN-TEACHER-EDUCATION-(AND-YOU-WOULDN'T-HAVE-BELIEVED-THEM-IF-THEY-DID) Department:
Homecoming Week.
Homecoming Week begins on Sunday in most public high schools, when members of the Student Council lead an array of other students in decorating the school according to the theme chosen for that year. Our theme this year is "Ocean Odyssey," featuring all sorts of mythological sea deities and nymphs (my AP students, prominent in Student Council, tell me that this is a reflection of what we've been studying in class, but they may just be buttering me up). Then there is a dress-up theme in place for each day. Yesterday, for example, was "Wacky Day." So, being my supportive self, I got up yesterday and put on a pair of Colorado Rockies pajama bottoms, a Denver Broncos T-shirt, a purplish paisely tie, a brown, hopelessly outdated button-down shirt out of the '60's (unbuttoned, of course), a white ankle-sock and bedroom slipper on my left foot, a gray tube-sock and brown Croc on my right foot, and a brown fedora. This was all very fun until I got a flat-tire on the highway going up to my school, and I got to change a tire in that outfit while a billion cars whizzed past and ogled me. I subsequently limped into the school two minutes before the first class started after having missed Wednesday through Friday of last week (what fun!--a nasty flare-up of gout in my left ankle and, not to be outdone, puke-your-guts-out stomach flu, all at the same time). So Wacky Day, already truly living up to its name, greeted me with a desk full of tests to be graded, notes from the sub, and a classroom full of students, each of whom has approximately 47 questions that must, MUST be asked at approximately the same time as everyone else's questions, and I still hadn't finished washing the tire-change black off my hands. The kids were awfully nice, though, expressing tons of concern about my absence, and many of them were dressed even wackier than I was. First Block, setting the pattern for the rest of the day and the rest of the week, was interrupted several hundred times for various reasons, most of them having to do with Homecoming activities. The day continued like that until 2:05, when we all filed into the gym for the week's first pep assembly (featuring me as the emcee, screaming into the microphone, "FRESHMENNNNNNNNN!" in an exhortation to get the freshmen to outscream the other 3/4ths of the school, followed by sophomores, juniors, and seniors all getting their turns), for the last hour of school. These assemblies are unbelievably, ear-splittingly loud and boisterous, and we have to be very careful to keep the frenzy we've created under control. Today's assembly went fine, though, and everyone seemed to agree that it was a lot of fun, but exhausting, just as the rest of the week will be.

What's missing from this description--what I find the hardest to describe--is the atmosphere in the building for the entire week. The word that comes to mind most often for me is "electric." From the first moment of the first day through the rest of the week, culminating in Friday's Homecoming football game and Saturday night's Homecoming Dance, the air is super-charged, unceasingly forged with electricity. Most teachers have made some sort of peace with the notion that, try as we might, we won't get a lot of teaching done this week. There will simply be too many interruptions, too much excited chatter in the classroom, too much electricity to get much accomplished. You can try to fight it, try to resist the flow, but ultimately, if you do, you'll end the week exhausted, disheartened, frustrated, and furious; go with the flow, you'll just end up exhausted--utterly drained. But no matter what, this never-ending current of anticipation, replete with the unbelievable, unflagging energy of the student body, takes an incredible toll by the end of the week.

So--to continue, today was "Favorite Movie Star Day." Since movie stars, of course, are hard to dress up as, what this really means is, "Favorite Movie Character Day." I found this one to be fairly easy. I just wore some brown denim pants, a pale blue denim shirt, a faded gray bomber jacket, and the same fedora I wore yesterday. Voila! Harrison Ford / Indiana Jones--almost too easy, even though neither actor nor character is my all-time favorite. But I didn't have the right clothes to be Dustin Hoffman as Jack Crabbe in "Little Big Man." The only downside was that everyone kept asking me where my whip was. I just told them the principal took it away from me after he caught me beating a student with it out in front of the school this morning. I did get a bit of teaching done, but the students definitely had to be coaxed, cajoled, and bullied into actually learning anything--even more so than usual.

Tomorrow--"Favorite Superhero Day." I plan on totally copping out and going as Indiana Jones. I just left my fedora and bomber jacket in the car when I got home.

Thursday is "Class Clash Day." This simply means that each class dresses in predesignated colors (faculty wears purple). That's easy enough, but the day ends with another pep assembly at the end of which I will announce which class demonstrated the most spirit throughout the week, thus earning possession of the coveted "Spirit Stick" until next year. I will go home as I did Monday--very, very hoarse and completely worn out. Only one more day to go, though.

Friday is "Spirit Day." We all wear the school colors, and we end school with the Homecoming Parade, featuring floats designed by each class demonstrating the myriad and grisly ways in which our football team, winless this season to date, intends to murder, maim, butcher, and disembowel our opponents. Hey. It's Homecoming Week. Anything can happen.

Some professions extend their employees the equivalent of combat pay. Teachers definitely should be given Homecoming pay.