Monday, September 15, 2014

Dream World

I am the type who rarely remembers any dreams I might have while sleeping, though I have had some doozies over the years. I can still all-too-vividly recall a few details of a nightmare I had in high school about finding murdered people all over my bedroom. Two years ago, before a job interview after a long spell of unemployment, I had a dream that all of my teeth started falling out.

I woke up from that one running my tongue over my teeth--which had been faithfully flossed before bed.

And this weekend, I had another bizarre dream, but this one has me laughing. Mostly.

It's evaluation season. I'm in my second year as a probationary teacher at the Large Suburban High School, and I've made no secret of the fact that I love it there and I want to stay. This year, I happen to have a new boss...and she happens to be the person who started the choir program at LSHS. There have been two other teachers between us, and she in no way views it as being hers anymore, but in our conversations, I've learned that she knows a lot about running a choir program, and going to her for advice is not only flattering to her, but beneficial to me.

I like her. She's fair, but she doesn't take any flak from anyone. She will evaluate me fairly and let me run my program in the Meg way, even while offering me occasional advice. I'm fine with that. A good admin helps her teachers continue on their path to excellence.

Anyway, it's evaluation season. And while I'm certainly convinced--in waking hours--that she'll be fair, my subconscious still worries and twists the memories of past experiences around in my brain. And so, on Sunday, I woke up about 15 minutes before my alarm clock (yes, I set an alarm on Sunday, so I can run before it's twelve hundred degrees outside), reeling from a dream in which Mrs. Principal came into my choir room...and chaos ensued.

For starters, there were tons of kids in there who weren't supposed to be in there...and they were awful. Not listening, no respect, just generally doing what they wanted to do. This is not the case in my choir. My kids are awesome, and it's pretty easy to get them from silly to serious when I need to. But in the dream, it was mayhem, and my confidence was plummeting.

So I handed out a song. And Mrs. Principal, in my dream, looked at this song and said, "You can't do this song! This isn't a good song for them!" Flustered, I tried to defend no avail. Then I woke up.

The real Mrs. Principal will not do that. She is not one to publicly humiliate a teacher in front of kids, but I have had one of those, a principal who stood in my doorway glaring at me like I was a dog turd she had to clean up. I know this current principal will treat me with professional courtesy, and I can't tell you how glad I am for that. My subconscious, however, deals with the memories of previous bosses, and has to somehow sort it all out.

I have to laugh. I certainly don't expect that every single moment of my lesson on Thursday will be perfect--teaching just isn't. But I know it will be fairly evaluated. Maybe I can finally lay some of the bad memories truly to rest. I've got a program to grow.

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