Today in class a discussion led to yet another shift in thought that made things harder, not easier, but for the better. As mentioned previously, I’ve been grappling mentally with the closure of all middle schools in our district. The funny part is that when I was first sent to do my practicum in a middle school, I was upset. I was secondary educated, and didn’t understand why I was being sent to a middle school. Middle might have been replaced with a few strategic symbols at that point.

I survived my practicum and went on to have three contracts in a row at that same middle school. Much of that school shaped who I am as a teacher today, some for the better, some for the worse. I left the school for a year to return to the high school that we fed, the high school from which I’d graduated. Heading back to the middle school this year felt different after having been in high school, but it felt good to be back in with that age group.

Throughout the year, the district held consultations regarding the upcoming budget and potential changes. We lacked a school board, having been fired by the provincial government upon refusal to submit a balanced budget. Recent years have been rough in our district, faced with declining numbers and a huge physical area to cover. Some areas of the district lack courses needed for graduation and entry into university, leading to students spending long periods of time on buses.

I made a sarcastic crack one day that the secret plan was to turn our school into a French immersion elementary. Little did I know that I was correct. Public outcry forced the withdrawal of the French immersion plan, but in the end my middle school became an elementary school. While we still taught our kids, dump trucks tore up our field, workmen measured to put in new bathrooms, remove lockers, and change the doorknobs. I helped our librarian sort and pack the library to be shipped off to different locations in order to make room for less shelves, and younger books.

I loved that library. I once had it for a few months while our teacher-librarian was on leave. We remained close, and I would almost daily visit on my prep and talk books and resources. I harboured a not so secret dream of having the library again. That was not meant to be.

Where did all of this get me today? When starting to create my presentation, it was entirely lacking in emotion or connection. It’s rather funny to think about. I’m trying to write about why students should be connected, in an entirely disconnected manner.

I learned that my school was gone through Twitter. I’d like to weave this into my narrative, bring the personal and emotional side into my advocacy. Hopefully it will make it stronger.

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