It is my students that save me

For the first time in Trout Lake, I love my students. All of my students. Even more amazingly, I think that they all like me. We have had our struggles but I refused to give up, even when they were yelling in my face, calling me bad names littered with derivatives of four letter words and telling me that they wished that I moved away. This year, I experience non of this. OK they still call me names, but it is done with a smile and in a teasing attitude. It is done in a way that says, "Miss, we like you!"

Case in point . . . Last summer, I went walking with one of my students that I highly respect. We talked about boyfirends and nicknames. I made the "mistake" of telling her about my dreaded nickname - "Legs"

For those of you that don't know, once, when I was very small and immature, my cousin and I were having a discussion very late at night. Unbeknownst to us, our nosy older cousin was eavesdropping (yes this is a revised and very slanted history of the event). This was the course of the conversation.

S- What is one body part that you would like to change?

Me - I would change my legs. I want such long and shapely legs that everyone

would call me Legs.

The next morning, everyone in my immediate and extended family knew of our conversation and started calling me Legs. My older and nosy cousin introduced me to all of her older friends as her cousin Legs. This is very mortifying to a preteen girl especially when it is an teen male that is hearing the introduction. I think I lived about the next five years with a perma blush on my skin as members of my family would pull out the nickname at the most inoportune times.

Anyways, I told this story to my student on our walk. The next day, in class, one of my other students started mumbling indirect information about legs such as, " I need to go stretch my LEGS!!" and "Miss Legs" and "Are your LEGS sore?" The student I told leaned over and said, "I told G and C." I feigned anger and then pretended that I had no idea what was going on. "Miss Legge. I am not Miss Legge. I am Miss Light. Miss Legge teaches Grade 1. Don't you know that?"

This was last year. The joke has continued this year. More students have found out about the joke, including one of my very troubled boys from last year who we almost had to kick out of school. Now he could have twisted the joke and made it really mean and cruel but no he just sits there and laughs silently. And I laugh with them. It is fun to be able to laugh with them.

However, there is one disconcerting piece of information in this story. Why can my students remember some random story about me - this isn't the only instance. They remember the name of the guy whose lap I fell into during White water rafting, the names of my nieces and nephews etc. However, they can not remember the formula for the Circumference of a circle or area of a circle or . . . and I have tried to drill this into their heads (with a circular base nontheless - what is more applicable than finding the area of the hole inour head (just jokes)) Maybe if I told them that my boyfriend was "area equals base times height divided by two", they would remember how to find the area of a triangle. Ahh well, at least I am teaching them that I too am human.

The routine

I did not blog last week and really have nothing to say this week. My life right now is pretty routine and SAD is starting to set in. So here it is, the sad routine of me.

1. Hear the alarm and press snooze three or four times.
2. Wake up later than I want and rush to get ready to school.
3. Go to school and teach until about 4:00.
4. Go home and eat because the starvation has already set in.
5. Go back to school at about 5:00 or 6:00.
6. Stay at school unitl 9:00.
7. Go home and watch TV for an hour.
8. Go to bed.
9. Sleep.
10. Repeat the next day.

My fridge was getting bare so I did have to go grocery shopping on Saturday. This was quite the dilemma for me. Did I want to drive three hours to the "big" grocery store and get exactly what I wanted (maybe) or did I want to drive one hour (these are both one way trip times) and get what was available. Driving one hour won out. The prospect of driving three hours to go shopping solitarily and have no one to know me and greet me at the end of the journey convinced me that Red Earth groceries would be sufficient.

Did I mention that SAD is setting in? Darkness at 8:00 am and again at 6:00 is affecting the emotions and drive. The new elliptical does help a bit to get those endorphins up.

The Trip

We thought that we might not be able to go all week but finally on Thursday, we got our field trip number and a bus and driver and it was confirmed. Friday, we could go to Edmonton with 15 of our students (who were a little bit reluctant to go to the Dreamcatcher conference).

Friday morning, we gathered at the school. Eight of the 15 students showed up - the best 8 I think. The bus arrived and we were off. One student, who is 18, was off to Edmonton for the very first time. It was his inaugral trip to a place with buildings over five stories high, with public transit, traffic etc. This made the trip so much more interesting and fun.

The high school students were off to the Dreamcatcher conference in Edmonton. This is a conference designed for aboriginal youth with cultural and other sessions. They had a chance to hang with aboriginal youth and listen to aboriginal speakers. They had a chance to feel pride in their ancestory and hope in their future. All we did in Edmonton was this conference and a movie at the theater. No mall, no shopping, no swimming pool (and yes I am sure we will hear complaints about this.)

It was interesting to see the reaction of my students to the city. Another teacher and I often talk about the lack of natural print in the environment of my students - there is no billboards, no magazines, no signs etc. As a kid, I remember driving down the road, reading the signs that I saw out loud. That is what the teens in the bus started to do. "Totem Building Supplies." "Walmart" "Go Logo Wear" etc. Then one of them started talking about how this was the most traffic that they had ever seen (It wasn't even rush hour.) We had to explain how to use crosswalks and cross walk lights. (So can we cross if the hand is blinking? What do the numbers mean on the side?) Riding the elevator in our hotel was a treat (I am surprised that they didn't fight over who would push the buttons) I had to explain how to go down on the escalator. One of my students exclaimed, "I feel like I am in a movie." The only city experience that he had had was seeing one on movies.

I am so proud of my students and their behaviour in the city. They were the best students at the conference. It was fun hanging out with them instead of telling them to get their math work done. On the way home, I was able to have a wonderful conversation with one of my students about faith and christianity and God. Mostly we talked about Christian history. "No the Bible wasn't originally written in King James English. It was written in Greek and Hebrew." It pains me that most people here think that they need to read the KJV version of the Bible. Most of them are on the verge of illiteracy and at times the Bible is tough enough to understand. Christ came to speak to us in our own languages. He came to take some of the mystery away (bu adding on layers of mystery). And yet for many here, the mystery still remains and the knowledge of Biblical matters rests with the preacher and leadership. It raises my ire.

A World of Pain and Stress

I know that that is not a good intro to a Thanksgiving Day post but alas, it is how I am feeling. It sums up the Trout experience over the past few weeks.

Two weeks ago, we had a hushed day at school. After I arrived, the secretary came into talk to me. Her nephew would not be at school that day. One of the teen boys in Peerless had been killed in a hunting accident. At first they thought that he had accidently shot himself but the police found out that his hunting partner had accidently shot him. The whole school was shocked and the student didn't even attend here. I can't imagine the pain felt in the halls of Peerless. I felt for my students who already know so much pain. I felt for the child's family and the accidental shooter. They will always have to live with this tragedy. I felt fear that it could have happenned to one of my students. Fear that some day I may have to attend the funeral of a student or former student. It is my greatest fear.

All week there was a cloud over Trout. The funeral was the next Monday. On that day we found out that our principal's step-father had suddenly passed away. She had to go to BC to be with her mother. This leaves me in charge of the school. I will have almost been principal for three weeks in a row. There is a lot to do and I am feeling a little stressed (I have to conduct interviews and hire aids and Cree instructors tomorrow). Selfishly, I did notwant her to go console her mother because I wanted her here. Yet I also felt the pain of suddenly losing someone no matter what the age.

On Saturday morning, I recieved a call from one of my students. I could tell automatically that she was crying. This also usually means that she is drunk - which again was the case. But I am learning that truth is often spoken in a drunken slur. She started talking about her fears. Fears for her mother who is sick and going to the doctor. Fears of losing her mother - the person that cares for her the most. Through her pain came anger at all who have abandoned her and hurt her and told her that she is worthless and bad. I prayed prayers as I started to talk the truth. I told her that she is a person who cares and because of that she has value beyond measure. She is a creation of God and so she has value. And yes she may have made mistakes and may still make mistakes - drinking being one of them - but that does not eliminate her value. By the end of our conversation I had her laughing a bit. But the laughter so often does not take away the pain but masks it.

I so badly want to take some of this pain and throw it into an abyss. I so desparately want to force people to hold on to Jesus and place their pain on him. I know that he was standing with those that are pain filled. Invisible but with tears in his eyes.

The Rescue

Trout Lake is slowly turning into a boggy pond. It has been raining about 4 days a week since school started and since Trout Lake is already surrounded by muskeg, the water has no where to go. It sits on the road and causes problems. When the road gets like this, I avoid driving and stay put in Trout Lake (unless someone else is willing to drive).

Last night, I had just finished my movie and was about to head for bed when my phone rang. The students had not got back from their field trip to Peace yet because their bus had broke down somewhere between Red Earth and Peerless. Would I be willing to help rescue them?

Of course I was willing. Then I looked at the clock - 12:30 a.m. It was one by the time we left the school in a caravan of three teachers vehicles. The night was dark with cloud covered skies. It was hard to see the path for the vehicle through all the puddles and mud. And some points in the road, it would be really rough and I would wonder if their was an easier way but the dark road did not reveal a smoother path. Bumps, puddles and sand trips made the trip very tense. I needed a massage then but now the shoulders are even worse.

I got to the bus without any major incidents at 2:00 a.m. Yes that is an hour on crappy mud roads. I only had one fishtailing incident just passed Peerless. Students loaded into my vehicle. We figured out how the middle belt works (Apparently I had not had anyone sit in the middle of the back seat yet) and we were on our way. I was on gaurd for the sand trap that caused the swerving on the way out. The Peerless sign was right in front of us and I prematurely breathed a sigh of relief. We had passed the trap. That is when my car started skidding and swerving again. A quick prayer , "God I have students on board" and some quick maneuvoring and we were driving straight again. Not one student screamed. Thankfully.

We were almost home when one of the students asked, "What is that?" Ahead of us were strange lights off to the side of the road. One of the other teachers had driven into the ditch. I promised the kids I would come back and pick them up after dropping off the first load.

At 3:00, we arrived in Trout. I drove to all corners to drop off my load and at 3:30 headed back out to the mud to pick up the second crew. I felt that I could have been in a commercial. "What do teachers in Trout trust to pick up stranded students on a washed out road. No not an F150. No not a SUV. But a Subaru Impreza. The best little car in the world." And then people would see images of me pulling out of my fishtails and going through puddles with wipers going.

It was 4:30 by the time that batch two was dropped off and I arrived home. I thought that I would be too wired to sleep at this point but apparently I was pretty tired because I dropped off to sleep right away and woke up this morning to discover that although I had locked the door, I had left my house keys and car keys dangling right in the lock. I also woke up to see the sun shining on a beautiful fall day, revealing my mud caked car. Next weekend, my dad is going to help me wash it in Edmonton as we try to figure out why one of the side panels is popping off.

Trapped

This weekend was a beautiful fall weekend. The air was warmish with that underlying fall crispness. The leaves were yellow and beautifully reflected in the lake next to my house. I so wanted to go outside and enjoy it but I couldn't it. I was trapped in my house.

Across the creek that runs in front of my house, there is a house where there has been a party all week. I don't think that they have stopped drinking for 7 whole days. Friday night some of my students joined them and on Saturday morning they were hanging out by the teacher's houses. One of them with his bloodied shirt trying to stop his on and off again girlfriend from picking fights with other guys. Their drama unfolded in front of us. One second loving each other, the next yelling at each other. I stood at my window to be sure that they were safe and not being harmed. But I didn't feel like I could leave the house because I did not want to deal first hand with the drama.

After they left, the party at the house moved directly across the bridge. A crowd of 15 people sat in the grass and continued their drinking. They were sitting right by the path that I walk on. So I left my house and went to school. I didn't want to leave the safety of the teacher's houses. Not that I feared that I would be harmed physically but I just didn't want to deal with the drunkeness of former students and present students. I didn't want to feel harrassed. I didn't want to feel awkward.

I was trapped in my house. The alcohol in the community affects everyone - even myself.

And so it begins

I think our calendar year has it all wrong. This is the start of the new year. Through out childhood, we are programmed to set goals and start new projects in September and now that I am a teacher, I am never going to get it out of my system.

So I have moved. I am spending so much time at school that I decided to simply move my matress and a small fridge into my classroom and save on the rent. CHA I am so kidding. Seeing the school from my back window is enough to remind me of the oodles of work that I have to do. And no matter how much time I spend at school I never seem to get ahead. Maybe it is because of all the socializing that I do at school. School is my social life. If I want to see people, that is where I go. And we sit around and complain. I have to keep on reminding myself that there isn't really that much to complain about. School is vastly improved.

This year, at this moment, I love my students. Ask me again on Monday, if that is still true. They seem to really want to try this year. Almost all have improved in the politeness department. The ones I feared the most last year are now the ones that make me laugh the most. There is a different atmosphere this year.

It is a good thing that I love my students because I hate the weather and I hate being "under the weather". It rained everyday last week. It is almost always cloudy. It is hardly ever above 12 degrees Celsius. The leaves are turning yellow already. Plus my head is full of snot and I can hardly breathe.

So maybe it is a good thing that we have New Year's in January. It reminds us that spring does come again and the seasons do change. Right now it seems like I am settling into a long, cold and very dark fall and winter.