timberrrrrr!

If you're still reading, thank you!  Originally, I started this blog to tell about my experiences teaching.  When I moved to Costa Rica, it became more of a place to talk about my adventures living abroad.  When I returned to the U.S. and was neither living abroad nor teaching any longer, I wasn't sure what to write about any more.  However, I still have some student stories left, and it is very important to me that I tell them, as children don't always get their stories told.  So, for now, I will continue doing so, although I can't promise that I will be here as often as before.  Nevertheless, I appreciate those of you who continue to read.

And now, back to our scheduled program...


One day during the spring of my first year of teaching, the fourth graders down the hall were taking their TAKS test.  Because of the testing, my principal asked us fifth grade teachers to rotate classrooms, rather than having our students switch rooms between classes, to minimize the noise in the hallways.  Sure, great idea.  During first period, my Program Director from Teach For America (sort of like an instructional coach) came to observe me.  The observation went well, and I was feeling good.  For second period, I loaded up my science lab supplies into my trusty milk crate and trotted next door to my mentor teacher's classroom and got set up.  The kids were into the lab; life was swell.  I used the overhead projector and projection screen to illustrate a concept for my students, and they got it quickly. Yesssss.  Then, oh, then.  I pulled down on the screen to retract it to its "away" position up near the ceiling, and as I straightened up after doing so, I heard a loud BANG and saw a look of dismay on the face of one of my students sitting in the first row.  Then everything went black...

When I came to, I was laying on the floor in a pool of blood and several of my students were lifting my legs onto the teacher's chair in an attempt to roll me to the nurse's office.  (The teacher's chair was just like one of those blue plastic student chairs, except it also had a thin cushion attached to the seat and wheels on the legs.  It was kind of lame as far as teachers' chairs go but kind of awesome at the same time.)  As they were doing so, several of the students exclaimed, "Ay Miss, hay mucho sangre!" [There's a lot of blood!]  It turns out that one end of the overhead screen had somehow bounced off of its hook on the ceiling and swung down and hit me right in the face, knocking me out in the process.  The blood was from my resulting facial wounds.

A few moments later, my mentor teacher rushed in, gasped, and cried, "What if it had been me?!"  Ummm, yeah.  Then I wouldn't be lying here with a busted face, which, frankly, would be preferable to me.  But she called the nurse, which was helpful, the nurse came to cart me away in a wheelchair, which was unnecessary, and my principal sent me to the town clinic to get facial X-rays, which also turned out to be unnecessary--amazingly, despite all the blood, there was no real damage done.  My face was just super swollen for a week or so.  The best part was, while I was waiting for my appointment, I got to watch What Not to Wear at my friend's house.  Sweet!  My only concern was that my face would be all puffy and ugly when my boyfriend came to visit me.  Kind of vain, I know, but can you tell me you wouldn't be worried about that?!  Luckily, the swelling went down before he got to town.  All's well that ends well, right? :)  But between this experience and the episode with the dead bird burning in my classroom heater, part of me does wonder if observation days are somehow cursed...