What I don't have to deal with

Written 11/28/09

Morgan and I are not above grumbling about our workload from time to time. The most common day for this to happen is Saturday, when, instead of enjoying the weekend, we spend all but the evening hours doing lesson plans for the upcoming week. This work is something that the seasoned teachers do not have to do, because usually they can reuse their plans from previous years. And even if they have an assignment that’s different from previous years, they all seem to be able to do their lesson plans more efficiently than Morgan and I can. I guess that just comes with practice.

So we grudgingly sit down and do our work on Saturdays, wishing we could be more like the other teachers. They can just enjoy their weekends, right?

Oh, but there’s a catch. One that makes all the difference in the world: we are not raising five children while trying to maintain these jobs. It seems that every other household we see is literally bursting with children. When I walk by my downstairs neighbor’s house (also a teacher), the din of crying babies, yelling toddlers, and whining teenagers follows me up the stairs and makes me realize how much more difficult our lives could be. When I go to our vice principals house to get water, I see two naked children running in, around, and through the house. When I timidly knock and peer through the open doorway, I see two other children with snot running down their noses pestering and pulling at the limbs of their father, wanting God knows what. The vice principal is lying on a day bed with a look of utter exhaustion, just trying to get some rest. He motions for me to go ahead and take some water, so I turn on the spigot, fill my bucket, and scamper (as much one can scamper while carrying 5 gallons of water—it’s probably more of a fast, limping walk) back to my apartment, hoping that none of the children will follow me there (it happens sometimes).

A scene like that is good for at least an hour of solid, happy work as I sit in my clean, quiet house. For I have nothing to worry about except coming up with a handful of measly lesson plans. And when I’m done with that, my time is my own.