The Great Yellow Jacket Battle

It began like any other morning.  Yawn, stretch, get out of bed, general morning activities...

Brian went out to the back yard to do some work on our pool.  Our dogs are outdoor dogs and they live in our fenced-in back yard.  Whiskey is our golden retriever we have had since she was a puppy.  She is super friendly and hyper, and she greeted Brian with tons of joy and excitement and kisses.  Bonnie is a rescue dog.  We think she is part golden retriever/part black lab, and she must have had some horrible traumatic experiences before we adopted her because she is incredibly shy around people.  She is very comfortable with us, but Brian's sudden appearance in the back yard made her scamper back a few feet.

After a few seconds, Brian noticed that Bonnie was behaving very strangely.  She was jumping and whirling and snapping out in the yard.  He stared at her, trying to figure out what was going on.  Then he felt a sharp sting on his thumb, looked down, and saw this:

He ran back in the house, closely followed by two dogs and a dozen or so yellow jackets (most of which came in on the dogs, stinging them several times).  At this point, I had no idea what was going on...I was still in the bathroom, getting ready for the day, blissfully unaware of the events transpiring outside.  Suddenly, heard a huge racket in the house and saw my that my two outdoor dogs were suddenly indoor dogs.  I slammed the bathroom door shut, which turned out to be lucky for me because the yellow jackets were still outside of the bathroom.

Brian valiantly killed most of the yellow jackets (I got one of them on top of the refrigerator), and then stopped to inspect his thumb.  It was now almost twice its normal size.  We inspected the dogs and found several welts where they had been stung.  Unfortunately, they probably got stung a lot more because we just had them shaved for summer.  Sorry guys, for removing your protective layer of fur (but you are probably more comfortable in this heat).  Off we went on a Benadryl run, with the dogs coming along for the ride.

We managed to get the dogs to go to the bathroom in the front yard (they refused to return to the back yard), and brought them into the house.  Brian sprayed the nest (hopefully that's the last of them) and noticed that his thumb was now three times its normal size despite being treated with a paste of baking soda, ice, and Benadryl.  Hmmm...

Now, the two dogs and Brian are taking some much deserved naps while I (the only one who did not get stung) prepare to play a little Guild Wars 2.  Dinner is in the crock pot, the house is cool and quiet...life is good.

Returning home

Brian and I just got back from a lovely weekend with my mother's side of the family.  It was a celebration of my grandfather's 80th birthday/family reunion/baby shower.  It was wonderful to see everyone and catch up on what's going on in their lives.  Also, my youngest cousins are growing like weeds.

Eventually, the weekend came to an end, as all good things do, and the time came for us to go home.  It was a long drive back (made even longer by some heavy rain).

Fortunately, this rain was followed by rainbows.

Anywho, last night we finally arrived at our house.  The lawn was looking a bit shaggy (even though Brian mowed just before we left) due to all of the rain we have been getting.  The house was a bit stuffy, as we turned off the AC before we left to cut down on our bill.  It was late, we were tired, and we still had to unpack and do laundry.  But we were home.

There is something so wonderful about being home.  I love my family and I enjoyed spending time with them, but coming home is amazing.  We got to sleep in our own bed (sheets laundered and freshly made before we left), eat our own food, sit on our own couch, and use our own internet connection (which is A LOT faster than hotel wi-fi).  But I have to say... the best part of coming home is getting to use our own toilet paper.

Yes, the toilet paper.  Brian and I are generally pretty frugal.  We buy store brands, use coupons, and wait for sales like nobody's business.  But the one area of our lives where we are willing to pay top dollar is toilet paper.  We prefer Quilted Northern.  And nowhere, not the hotel, not my parents' house, not a gas station, even came close to our accustomed level of toilet paper.  We aren't so picky that we would bring along a roll of our own TP everywhere we go, but it does make coming home all the sweeter.

And finally, our dogs will be returning today after a nice stay in a kennel.  They will come back clean, shaved, and a bit spoiled.  Life will return to normal until our next little adventure.

The first post (and the first day of the rest of my life)

Today I did not wake up to an alarm going off.  I did not need caffeine, I did not sleepily stumble to the bathroom, and I did not try to finish work left over from the night before.  Instead, I made myself two eggs on some English muffins and spent some time playing with my dogs.  This is my first morning of freedom.

Until yesterday, I was an employee of Charlotte-Mecklenburg Schools (CMS for short).  I worked at a local high school teaching Biology, Human Anatomy and Physiology, and AP Environmental Science.  I was at that high school for two years (1 semester as a student teacher, 3 as a "real" teacher).  There were parts of my job that I loved, but there were more parts that I hated.

Here is a list of some of the things I hated:

• Waking up at 4:00 AM each day
• Arriving at work at 6:30 AM each day
• Leaving work at 5:00-6:00 PM each day
• Only getting paid for the hours of 6:45 AM - 2:10 PM
• Being forced to give up my planning period on a regular basis to cover another class (almost never a science class) because the teacher had either quit and left in the middle of the year or was too lazy to get a substitute (I'm looking at you, English department)
• Working on some Saturdays for the Extended Day program (not optional)
• Paying for most of my supplies out-of-pocket
• Having to teach to the test (Biology EOC)
• Not having enough time for fun labs that could spark a love of science because I am too busy teaching to the test
• Not receiving any training for the AP course I was teaching until a month into the school year
• Snarky remarks from other teachers (non-science, of course) about how lucky I am as a first-year teacher to have an AP course (I got it because NO ONE in the science department wanted it)
• Rude or mean students
• Inconsistent enforcement of the rules (the students know exactly which administrator to go to for little to no consequences)
• Being made to feel like I am a bad teacher for writing a referral (I only had to write 2 all year)
• Parents who think their child should just be given a good grade for showing up
• Parents who think their child should pass my class after missing over a month of school with no valid reason and no attempt to make up the missed time
• Parents who don't care at all ("He's your problem when he's at school." <-- actual quote)
• Still being held accountable for the EOC scores of students who miss the entire semester because they were in prison/having a baby/ran away from home and decide to show up for the last 3 days of the semester (because even if I haven't actually taught the student, they are an accurate reflection of my teaching)
• Teaching "common core standards" to students who can barely read or write
• Grading English papers that supposedly were seen by an English teacher that don't have a single comma, period, or paragraph indentation
• Being told not to grade these English papers (for the student's senior project, by the way) on grammar, spelling, or sentence structure
• Having students fail those papers anyway, despite the EXTREMELY lenient grading
• A guidance department that is completely inept
• School boards and governments that are so far removed from what I deal with each day giving me more and more tasks that serve absolutely no purpose
• The lack of money

Here is a list of some of the things I loved:

• The teachers I got to work with each day (the Biology PLC was the BEST)
• Summer vacation and holidays off
• Grossing my students out with YouTube videos of bodily functions
• Discussing and debating bioethics and biotechnology with my students
• The look on a student's face when they finally understand a concept
• The look on a student's face when they dissect a fetal pig for the first time (a great combination of disgust and awe)
• Listening to students talk to each other during group work (and sometimes jumping into the conversation)
• Being told I am the coolest teacher ever because I play video games/watch Doctor Who/know first aid/like Duke over UNC
• The shocked look on a student's face when they realize I know what "adult" topic they are talking about using slang
• How impressed my students get with how long my hair is (and the fact that it isn't weave)
• Being told that I am someone's favorite teacher
• Being told that I am the reason someone is majoring in Biology or some medical related field
• Feeling like a rock star when I am seen outside of class
• Students who come back to see me after they have graduated and tell me how my class totally helps them in college
• Students who cried when I announced that I would not be returning next year
• Students who said that they had already signed up for another one of my classes and were upset they wouldn't get to have me again
• Knowing that I actually made a difference in so many lives (hopefully a good difference)

Looking at these lists makes me incredibly sad.  I am an awesome teacher.  Yes, I am still learning the ropes and figuring out classroom management, but I know my content, I am passionate about learning, and I love my students.  I had a lot of good experiences at my school.  I love teaching.  The sad reality is that I (and teachers like me) have been driven away by a variety of factors.  Most of these factors could be easily fixed, and I feel that if just half of them were removed, I would be staying.

My parents are teachers.  The most influential people in my life were teachers.  I don't mind the small paycheck, as long as I get enough to live off of.  I don't mind people thinking my job is easy or trivial, as long as I don't get treated like crap.  I don't even mind having large classes, as long as I get support when I need it and enough materials to teach them.  

In the end, I looked ahead and asked myself, "Can I do this for another 30 years?"  The answer was "No."  Why should I waste any more of my life at this job if it is not what I truly want to do?  The only logical conclusion was to quit.  Which brings me to this morning... my first morning of freedom.  What comes next?  My husband and I will probably try to start a family.  I might go finish up my masters.  And someday, I might return to teaching.  It will not be in a public school in North Carolina.  I might teach again in another state, or at a private school, or a community college, etc.  I have been used and abused by this state, and I will not be returning to teaching in a public school here until there are some drastic changes.

Well, that's the first blog post.  Hopefully, more will come.