One is the Loneliest Number

One is the loneliest number.  That is how you feel when you are a male primary teacher.  When I taught in Prespatou, I was the only male teacher in the elementary end of the school.  Now that I'm at a new school there are several other male teachers, but there are none that are even within spitting distance of the primary grades.

When I go to a professional development seminar, it is very likely that the participants will include myself and a room full of women.  When you are in a staff room, it is you and a bunch of women.  Now, most men would think that was a great thing.  And normally you would be right.  You know, if it was a bar or the Playboy mansion.  However, the room is usually full of nice, middle aged women that generally are bunch of mother hens.  Not terribly erotic.

The other downer, is that discussions tend to focus on topics that are of interest to women.  Mostly children, followed closely by gardening and American Idol/Dancing with the Stars/etc.  Yawn.  If you are at an education seminar or workshop, all of the answers and activities are touchy feely.  Let's get to know each other by telling someone about a time when you really needed a hug.  Blagh!  When a topic is discussed and everyone wants the answer to by flowers and unicorns, as the dude, you feel like a major league ass when your answer is a little more factual and involves kids toughening up.

In all seriousness however, being a male primary (or even elementary) teacher can be extremely isolating.  I don't look forward to going to my workplace for social connections.  I look forward to the connections with the  kids.  I have to find my social connections elsewhere in the community, which is hard when you spend most of your time at your job.

One is the loneliest number.  And I'm number one.

Sunny Days (and Nights)

Well, it's that time of year again, when your body never really knows what time it is.  When the sun comes up at just after 4 am and goes down just shy of 10 pm you tend to lose track of time.  It is nothing to be reading, on the computer  and or working around the house and look up and be shocked that it is 9:30 when you were sure it was closer to 6:30.  It is also shocking when you get up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom and the sun is jabbing painfully into your retinas.

I noticed the other day that none of the ball diamonds in town have lights.  It took me a few minutes to realize that nobody plays baseball past 10:30 at night when it actually gets dark.  It takes a long time to get used to the extended daylight hours, but it sure is wonderful to have the extra time to do whatever it is you like to do.  Especially if you like doing it outdoors.

False Patriotism

I have not kept my distaste for the Vancouver Canucks a secret.  In response to my attitude I have caught a lot of flak for being unpatriotic for not cheering for the Canucks.  Quite simply, what a load of crap.  We are not talking about the Canadian national team which I ALWAYS cheer for.  We are talking about a commercial interest that is based in Canada.  I don't happen to support this particular business.

Following the logic of these "patriots" everyone that is Canadian should always choose a product produced in Canada or sold by a Canadian company over any foreign competitor.  Let me tell you that fellow Canadians are usually swiping away at their iPhones while they are chastising me.  Never once thinking about where the iPhone is made or where their money goes (to America).  Why don't these people have Blackberries if they are such patriots?  I also know that these people go to Wal-Mart and Home Depot.  If they were really patriotic they would shop at Zellers (while they can) and Rona.

Maybe the truth of it is that people like being patriotic when it's easy and convenient.  They also like being able to look down on others even if they are artificially elevated.  And of course, everyone loves a ride on the bandwagon.

Wild Weather

Last Thursday, I was happily enjoying summer.  The temperature had been in the low 20's for several days running with nary a cloud to be seen.  I had broken out the shorts and t-shirts and was not anticipating looking back.  Then Thursday evening a few thunderstorms bearing hail flowed through.  The temperature dipped a bit that evening.  On Friday I woke up to Christmas, not summer.

Yes, it's that's snow on the ground.

It had was snowing right along at 6:30 when I got up.  The weather man said rain and cold, but this was ridiculous.  I should have know though, when the furnace came on a few times in the night.  The furnace hadn't even been turned on in a week.

It proceeded to snow for the entire day without let up.  There wasn't a huge amount of snow on the ground, but there was some accumulation.  Snow on the ground in June.  Now I've seen it all.  In the three plus years we have lived up here, we have seen snow in every month but July and August.  Long time residents tell us that they have seen snow in every month of the year.  I must sincerely express my desire to never see that.

That's our deck at 4 pm.

So, Now I Play Baseball

It seems that I've joined a slow pitch team.  I must admit that baseball is not my favourite sport on the planet, but sitting on my ass all summer is a much worse one.  It turns out my team is made up mostly of teachers.  Well, at least I'll be hanging out with different teachers than the ones I see every day.

I've played in two games and it's been fun, even though I am pretty rusty and kind of stinking up the joint.  Regardless, I have met some new people from town and I have another thing to keep me from becoming the weird old hermit that spends all of his time in his basement with little toy soldiers.

Oh, did I mention there's beer?

Comments

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Kids Say the Strangest Things

This is a page from one of my student's journals.  Just in case you are not fluent in phonetic spelling, here's the translation:

I went to dirt biking in the bush and I ran over a squirrel and I ate it for dinner and my dad shot five more and ate the five more.

I couldn't stop laughing when I read this.  I asked him if it was a true story and he told me that it happened the other day.  I especially like the picture of him on the dirt bike heading for the squirrel.

Let's face it.  My job is fun.