About

Substitute teacher. French tutor. Paying my dues, to both the union and the grander scheme. If my career were a punk band, this would be the stage where you still play basement shows, but you get to charge PWYC admission.

You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about sending this where blogs go to die. Sometimes I feel like my “school” theme is choking me; it doesn’t allow me to get very personal, while at the same time leaves me wide-open to precisely the kind of exposure that every teacher dreads:

“ZOMFG I FOUND MISS RANDELL’S DIARY!!!”

Being a student teacher means that I’m still learning. I totally screw up & fail on a regular basis… but it’s getting better, man. Please take a lot of what I write with a grain of salt and most of it for what it is: the sweet, pure egocentrism of young adulthood.

“Among other things, you’ll find that you’re not the first person who was ever confused and frightened and even sickened by human behavior.  You’re by no means alone on that score, you’ll be excited and stimulated to know.  Many, many men have been just as troubled morally and spiritually as you are right now.  Happily, some of them kept records of their troubles.  You’ll learn from them – if you want to.  Just as someday, if you have something to offer, someone will learn something from you.  It’s a beautiful reciprocal arrangement.  And it isn’t education.  It’s history.  It’s poetry.”

You said it, Mr. Antolini.

(Apologies to J.D. Salinger)