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A Swing Shift
Dread Vs. Not
Years I ago in a state of desperation I took a job at a ghetto high school. I was trying to get out of another job at another ghetto high school where the tiny rooms were packed with two times the legal Fire Marshall limit, and my co-teacher wore a skin tight skirt and translucent blouse to the first day of class. When she asked me, “How do I look?” I knew I needed to flee.
But this article isn’t about teaching high school, at-risk youth, or sexy teacher shenanigans. It’s about waking up and enjoying each day.
From the instant my corneas were exposed to light at 6:30 a.m., my thought was, “I have to go to work.”
The new school — fictional Pancho Villa High — hired me to teach the swing shift (traditionally, 3–11), which began at 1 pm. It was a part-time position but I settled on 1–9 pm with benefits.
I soon found that while I was ambivalent about my calling as an Educator, I loved the schedule.
To Awaken Is to Worry
My habitual and lifelong waking routine was fairly typical: I got out of bed about an hour before having to leave the house. From the instant my corneas were exposed to light at 6:30 a.m., my thought was, “I have to go to work.” Most of my other…
