Details, Details

No, I can't go find it again. One might even say it was stolen - except for the part where my coworker had every right to take it...

To begin at something vaguely resembling the beginning:

So on Monday, we had our last big meeting of the year, at which we do The Pick. Yes, that's what they call it, The Pick. Why? Because that's where we pick our caseloads for next year, in order of seniority. There are about 25-30 of us, and that number of caseloads. And so we go down the seniority list, and each person makes their pick. The caseloads are put together based on number of sessions and geographic proximity of schools, and can have anywhere from 3-10 schools on them.

Our caseloads don't belong to us. Every year, there is the possibility that someone else could take it (or that it could be split up and not look like the same caseload as students enter or graduate and numbers shift). Three years ago, I was at the bottom of the list. There was only one caseload, and I got it. It happened to be walking distance from where I live. I was incredibly lucky - and incredibly spoiled. ("Did I mention I can walk to work?" Remember me saying that? And blogging it?)

Two years ago, I totally expected someone else to take it, but no one did, so I chose it back.

Last year, I prepared myself to lose it, even though my coworker who works in the same neighborhood (yes, there are that many schools in the neighborhood - about three or four caseloads that all overlap in the same 30-block area) kept calling it mine as we discussed them. But I didn't lose it, and that was great.

This year, I figured that if no one wanted it last year, why would anyone want it this year?

Then, all of a sudden, three people before me, someone else called out the number of my caseload. Insert internal "whoa" here. The coworker mentioned above went, "oh." Mostly, people just pick back the same caseloads. So even the people near the bottom end up back where they were. But here she was, just three people ahead of me, and she called out mine.

The next two people on the list have bilingual caseloads so they pick from a different set. So, effectively, she was one person before me. Yes, it was that close a thing.

Last year, my coworker and friend who is just below me on the list lost her caseload to someone else, but that other person took her aside and gave her some warning. I didn't get any warning. All of a sudden, it was my turn - about a minute later - and I had to make an on-the-spot choice.

I was shaking. I was feeling lost and overwhelmed. I almost cried. But I didn't cry. I did what I often do when I am thrown off-balance - I gathered information. Three caseloads left. I got the locations and a bit of info on the schools. I began with, "I need a minute!" Of course, everyone understood. Then, I called out, "Where's caseload x?" (i.e. where are the schools located)

My supervisor called me up to discourage me from taking one of the three because of a difficult school on it - she wants the current hearing teacher there to keep it. But since I very much did not want that school, I assured her it wasn't an issue.

This left two caseloads, one south of me, one north of me. (Excuse the lack of more specific info. I wanted this to be a public post.) The one south of me belongs to that coworker/friend who lost her caseload last year. I really didn't want to do that to her again if I could help it. Besides, she told me she has a student who bites. And I don't like the neighborhood she works in.

Good thing the person who took my caseload had a caseload that I can get to on a single train, within half an hour. In a neighborhood that has things like kosher restaurants. And she tells me it's a wonderful caseload, but it took her over an hour to get there.

As I tell some of the staff in the other schools this story, they get angry at my coworker, but I have no hard feelings toward her. I don't think she specifically wanted my caseload. She was just ready to get rid of hers. She told me she stuck with the commute for five years because she likes the schools and the kids so much, but a bunch of them graduated this year, so it was time for a change. And I think she didn't give me warning because she didn't know which caseloads would be left by the time it got to her. I had three to choose from; she had four. And so she waited to see what was left.

So I have a commute next year. And all new schools. And it left me shaken. I was totally blindsided by it.

But it's okay now. I am saying good-bye to all of my current schools, and realizing that there were only a few students who would overlap from this year to next year anyway. About five of them. A bunch graduated, and the caseload shifted a bit, so one school I had isn't on there anymore. And one of my schools - my favorite one in terms of resources (a place to work, computer with printer and internet, phone to the outside, copier that works and doesn't need a code) is phasing out anyway, so half the staff is leaving, and those resources will disappear after next year, I am almost positive. So it was a good year for her to move, and a good year for me too.

This was my first caseload, and so it's good to step away from it and go to a new set of schools now that I have three years of experience under my belt.

So I'll have a commute. That's the bad news. But, overall, I feel kind of excited about the change.

So this morning, I was headed to a new teacher orientation (my last one), and so I got on the local train. The doors closed, then opened, then stayed that way. The train conductor announced that there was a problem with the doors and that we would be moving shortly. Then I heard an announcement from the station: "Due to an incident at 96th street, South Ferry bound 1 trains will be running express from 96th st. to 72nd st." Moving shortly? I got on the next local to show up - on the express track.

As we pulled away, I saw that the front half of our train had closed doors. I am glad I was in the back half.

Of course, my subway ride at the end of the day was not quite as smooth.

Because of the orientation, eneded up at a different professional development (it's that day of the week...) and while my subway ride home was no longer than usual - shorter, by a bit - getting to the subway somehow took an hour and a half. (between getting out of the school building, hunting for the car of the person who offered us a ride, getting caught in traffic...)

Yeah. long day.

It's snowing, though.

So today was Election Day.

Do you know what first comes to mind when I think about Election Day?
Is it exercising my right to vote?
Is it my opinions of the mayor and other candidates?
Is it having a say in our democratic system?

No, no and no.

I hear Election Day and what do I think?

Professional Development.

Schools are polling places. Students get off from school. Teachers get a professional development day.

This meant I also got - you guessed it - actually, when asked, mysticengineer really DID guess it - a free tote bag. It's purple. lavendar, really.
And I got a squashy brain somewhere in there too. (no, not MY brain. You know, one of those stress ball thingies?)

Anyway, last night, thinking Election Day meant thinking about where I needed to go today - and realizing I didn't really know where I was going or when I needed to be there - well, I had a general sense - and it was too late to call anyone, so I panicked because I was sure I had received an e-mail, only it was nowhere to be found and I had no memory of having deleted it. I spent nearly an hour looking for it and then freaking out when I couldn't find it or any other information pertaining to it online.

Many thanks to RL for keeping me semi-sane, and for finding a map for me online - the very same map I finally found on the back of the page that had, indeed, been sent to me - via the old fashioned method of sticking a stamp on it and putting it into a mailbox. It was sitting on a pile on my floor. (Yes, yes, I know. Need to finish moving in... it's only been two months...)

And thus I lost an hour of sleep time.

RL also told me which trains to take and how much time she thought I would need to get there. Turns out, I had extra time, so thank you to her for that too, because I managed to confuse the trains a bit and didn't get off the C train quite when I needed to, but nevermind. Suffice it to say that unlimited metrocards come in handy when one has to move from the downtown track to the uptown track and it involves going aboveground.

Anyway, professional development was interesting. The speaker was both informative and entertaining - and she wrote one of my grad school textbooks. It was not as practical as I would have liked, but I still learned a lot, and would you believe that I took 15 pages of notes? And by that I mean I covered both sides of fifteen pages - so that is really 30. Yes, I am that crazy about my note taking.

Then I came home and remembered - thankfully - that I needed to vote, so I finally pulled out the voter guide and started reading about the candidates so that I could at least pretend to be informed. I also read about the four propositions.

I went to vote around 5:30 and - don't ask me how this happened - there was no line. But really, I only half-voted, because just after I pulled the lever back I realized that though I had made absolutely sure I voted for the candidates I wanted, my eyes never quite left the left side of the ballot - I forgot to vote on the propositions.

Oops.

Oh well.