Speaking my mind

Starting my second year of teaching, I have many things I hope to do differently. One of my resolutions is to be more assertive. I came into the teaching world a year ago as a 21-year-old kid fresh out of college. My coworkers were my parents' ages and had been teaching for 20 or 30 years. What they told me to do, I tried to do. When I didn't like it, I smiled and demurely complied. Not this year. This year, I am determined to have a bit more of a backbone. My first chance came today.

This past week was dedicated to setting up classrooms. Setting up a classroom is no small feat. Desks must be arranged, bulletin boards decorated, rules posted, centers established, and supplies organized.

Rumors were floating around school today of class sizes changing, a few fourth grade teachers moving to third grade, and a few teachers trading classrooms. Around noon, my principal came into my room and mentioned that I may be one of the ones moving rooms. Several classrooms upstairs were opening up due to the grade-level changes, and the principal wanted to put all of the third graders in that hall. I thanked her for letting me know and began planning how I would set up a new room in the mere hour and a half I would have after lunch.

During lunch, though, I changed my mind. Swapping rooms on the Friday afternoon before classes began was ridiculous. The only benefit was that all six third-grade classrooms would be on the same floor. The disadvantages seemed to outweigh that one benefit -- parents seeing unorganized classrooms on Monday, teachers stressed from having to move so quickly, insufficient time for academic preparation. The other teachers encouraged me at least to talk to the principal about my concerns. So I did.

After lunch, another teacher and I met with administration to discuss the problems. We were as forceful as we could respectfully be, and in the end, we gained permission to stay where we were. I feel slightly older this afternoon than I did this morning.