This time last year, I was in your shoes, excepting that this job was waiting for me in mid-June.
I was teaching high school English to sophomores and juniors. I was 5 months pregnant. My classroom got AMPLE afternoon sun from the south. No air conditioning. Stuffy, even with the 3 oscillating fans I had positioned around the room to blow the hot air around. Lovely for the “blooming” pregnant woman, by the way.
No homework was getting turned in. Students were tardy constantly, even though I always reported them. The smell of teen sweat and a lot of body-odor-concealing products was palpable. The uniforms that my students were supposed to be wearing were turned into merely “suggestions,” because teachers (me included) grew weary of saying, “tuck in your shirt, please.” The students stopped caring, and honestly, I stopped caring too – occasionally.
We still had to fill each 45 minute time block, though. I still had to find stuff for the little buggers to do. Not sure how I did it – my mind was completely scattered- but somehow we managed to cross the finish line with a tiny bit of dignity. It was extremely validating to me to read Larry Ferlazzo’s article – I did a lot of these things to keep me and my students relatively sane.
Enjoy, and hang in there. You can steal my mantra and adapt it to your own time schedule, if you like. I stole it from someone else, and I don’t use it anymore.
“2:30 comes every day. Friday comes every week. June comes every year.”