Irony and other such literary devices...

Dear Christmas Break,

It has been a long time since I have last seen you.  I am in dire need of your aid.  Please contact me ASAP...

It took approximately 6 1/2 days after the installation of my new SmartBoard ...6 1/2 days before it was vandalized.  One of my high school students, yes, sadly nearing adulthood, decided it was a wonderful idea to write on the SmartBoard in pencil.  This piece of technology, worth more than these kids could even fathom, has served as the center piece of the classroom for the last week.  The excitement and the novelty are still tangible, yet there I was, stunned as watched in horror as my student proceeded to glide the sharpened led tip across the delicate white screen...I went from giving no detentions all of first quarter, to writing two detentions within a matter of a week and a half. 

Irony...one of many literary devices I have introduced to my students.  The irony on this night is that yet again, as I write, the freshly baked cookies for tomorrow's Christmas pizza party lie cooling on my counter. I am frustrated beyond belief by laziness, apathy, and on days like today, disrespect.  Yet somehow, I still love all 16 members of the crazy bunch that I will forever call the first of my very own students.  Good and bad, thick and thin, they are teaching me more than I could ever hope or pray to teach them.  As I write mid-term after mid-term, starting from scratch, I can't help but reflect on the foundation that I thought was so rooted up to this point.  Little did I know, a seed had merely been planted.  Now the real task begins, pruning and preparing myself, as well as the seedlings I have carefully monitored and guided, to weather the storm...the dry, cold, and sometimes lonely winter storm of wondering what comes next.  Some days I can barely see in front of me, blinded by the flurries and fog of confusion and frustration.  Thankfully, the occasional glimpse of the sun serves as a reminder that there is always light at the end of the tunnel and with every winter comes the smell of roses blooming in the Spring.  I pray that eventually, with time and care, I can see the vibrant colors of spring, present in each of the unique seeds that I encounter daily.

Weathering the Winter Winds,
Ms Phillips