Conference Time

Conferences. The idea makes me shiver. I've been blamed for a child's failure; I've been insulted; I've been threatened that a parent will "have my job." I never know what to expect, so I've begun expecting the worst and hoping for the best. As we recently had conferences, I found them to be the best.

What's frustrating about conferences, for the most part, is the fact that those parents I need to see rarely show up. Their child has a D or an F, and although I've already sent emails about their child's lack of progess, it would be nice to have a personal discussion. Instead, the parents who show are those whose children are doing well in class. They generally have the same question: how can they support me at home? I appreciate those parents, and their care and concern reflect in their child's success.

In fact, nearly all parents I visited with this past week are parents whose children are doing well in my class. It was nice to visit and laugh with parents. One of my best conferences involved a student who, last semester, was failing most of the semester. He earned a D for the class, which upset him. This semester, however, he has a really solid B, nearly an A. I am proud of him, and I thoroughly enjoyed telling his parents about his tremendous improvement. His mom was so happy, she was giddy. I like those conferences.

Some parents are simply funny. One family and I had a wonderful conversation, not only about the progress their son has made, but about our celebrity "boyfriends and girlfriends." We were laughing so loud and so hard, I nearly had tears. I always enjoy visiting with this family because they are funny and delightful.

As cheesy as this sounds, I enjoy telling parents how much their children mean to me and how wonderful their children are. Last year, I had a conference with a father and son, and I had suggested the son join an Advanced Placement class. He decided to join mine, which surprised me as I teach Literature, and his dad wasn't sure he would do well. Not only has this young man risen to the challenge of an AP class, he's doing quite well in it. I thanked his father for allowing him to take the risk, and I told him how proud of his son I am. As this was his father's last conference (this student is a senior and a youngest child), I felt comfortable telling him that he has raised a wonderful young man, which he has.

Last year, another of my students decided to challenge herself with my Advanced English class, and while I wasn't sure it was the right fit for her, I believe strongly in encouraging students to challenge themselves. It's been a good year with her. She grows in confidence, which allows her to grow in ability. I feel a bit like a cheerleader, pushing her to continue to feel good about herself, which then reflects in her work. She's doing well in the class, her writing has improved tremendously, she's read novels and plays she wouldn't have read ordinarily, and she feels better about herself. Her mom is also a teacher, so we often have lovely conversations. As this was her last conference, it was nice to be thanked for working with her daughter. I am proud of this young woman for her accomplishments.

As rough and frustrating as teaching can be, I treasure these small gifts: students and parents who appreciate the work I do in terms of challenging their children, loving their children, and pushing their children toward better futures. Students are the reason I teach, and by holding onto these moments, even the darkest and most difficult times are better because I know I've made a difference.

What the doctor said to me...

I decided recently to visit a dermatologist; it's not that I'm worried about skin cancer  yet, but I want to be proactive and make sure my fair Irish skin is okay. I have moles and cysts, and I thought it was time to have them examined. I did some research on dermatologists and settled on one group near my home. However, after my first appointment, I'm less than enthused with the doctor I saw.

He asked me why I decided to see a dermatologist after years of having moles and skin bumps, and as I have pondered his questions, I find them somewhat offensive. Why not? I have a right to decide when I will see a doctor about a particular issue. I then made a mistake when I asked about the cysts problem. I have cysts in different places, and I'm a bit worried as to their cause. His response? Lose some weight.

Weight is an extremely sensitive subject for me. I have struggled with my weight throughout my life, and I find it frustrating to have people lecture me about it. Granted, I've obsessed over his comment for the past few days, but then, who is he to lecture me? I met him for less than ten minutes, and he had already formed an impression of me based on what he saw.

What he doesn't know, nor will he ever know, is how much I struggle to lose weight. I spent nearly four years on WeightWatchers, and regardless of what they say, I don't think it works for me. I walk five times or more a week, except for now that I've torn my fascia. I watch what I eat. I've cut out nearly all sweets and have limited my exposure to processed food. I cook well-balanced meals. I only drink water and have eliminated all sugary beverages from my life. I don't drink alcohol; I don't do drugs; I don't smoke. Based on this evidence, I should be thinner but am not. Why?

My doctors have run blood tests to see if something else is wrong, but they've only determined I need more vitamin D and a small thyroid pill each day. Beyond that, I'm pretty healthy. Yet this dermatologist does not know any of this, nor do I believe he was interested in finding this out. I regularly speak with my medical doctors about my health and weight, and it's not as though I don't know I'm overweight. And while I have fair Irish skin, my mother was Italian, and nearly all my cousins--and my mother--struggled with their weight their entire lives. Is my weight genetic? No idea. What does this dermatologist know about me except that I'm a fat woman sitting before him who has cysts?

And the rest of my skin issues? Age. That's it. It would be nice if medical professionals actually learned about their patients before linking their weight with their health issues. He wasn't interested in knowing about the cyst on my foot (how is that weight related?) nor about the cysts that are developing in my breasts (which may be genetic). Will I see him again? No. I don't need that kind of stress in my life.

Just because I'm fat doesn't mean I'm oblivious to my weight nor does it mean I sit on my couch and eat junk food all day. And it doesn't mean I'm not worried about my health.

Sleeping and eating anxieties

My eyes open wide and I look at the clock. Not possible! 3:30 in the morning. I get up, stretch, get back in bed, and...wide awake.

I go through an entire day, frantically trying to exhaust myself so I can sleep, and then I get into bed and can't sleep. I'm anxious about sleep. In fact, as someone who has had sleeping troubles nearly all my life, I find my greatest anxieties are about my ability to fall asleep and stay asleep.

Again, wide eyes, look at the clock...4:00 am. What the hell? Wide awake and four am. I lay in the comfort and warmth of my bed, hoping to drift back into a dreamless sleep, hoping for just another hour, but to no avail. Wide awake.

It seems there is much to consider in the predawn hours. Most of my worries are about my job. I'm frustrated with the student body president who missed four days of school and hasn't enquired about our class. I'm upset with the parents and students who think it's okay to miss English once a week for "appointments." I mean, it's not like we do much or they need to pass the class to graduate. Plus, the ACT is coming, and my students are far from ready for it. And part of my evaluation depends on their ACT scores.

I'm worried about my AP students who aren't reading or attending class. Again, it's as if nothing happens if they aren't in the room. It's also registration time; will I have enough students to fill seats in my AP classes? I'm worried about my IB position; am I doing a good enough job to warrant a second year, or will my position be handed to someone else?

And then I'm hungry each morning; I could eat at 3:30 or 4 am; is it stress that's causing my hunger or am I really hungry? Stress causes me to eat, which I can ill-afford, and then I'm stressed because I gain weight.

Am I perimenopausal? I wish I knew. Without my mom here, I don't know what to expect. I ask the ladies I work with, but we're all about the same age and no one is quite sure what's going on. I don't think I'm ready for menopause yet, but I know being ready and experiencing don't necessarily align.

I'm a natural worrier, as evidenced by my past couple of nights, and I can't seemingly stop it. But I'm so tired, and I can't wait to go to bed. I just hope I can calm my worries and fall asleep.