The August
Nightmares
Every August the nightmares reoccur. I am wandering lost in a labyrinthine of high
school corridors and staircases searching for my classroom. I have no lesson plans, no roll book, and no
textbooks. I don’t have the
slightest clue what I am teaching. I am in a state of sheer panic. When I arrive at the room, there is nothing,
but a disarray of desks filled with disorderly students. In some versions of the dream I am lacking my
clothing and try desperately to hide my vulnerability. What do these dreams mean and why do they
stop occurring once I begin teaching my first classes every year?
Beginning teachers tell me they have
similar dreams, but I have been teaching just shy of forty years and they still
occur. Being a teacher is such a
difficult job that regardless of the years of experience, we
all feel very vulnerable because we are aware of how easily a class can become
chaos. Obviously each of us who share
these nightmares understand the importance of proper preparation and
organization and understand that is the only thing that stands between us and
chaos. Maybe for us, the idea of losing
control of our students and being unprepared is the most frightening idea of
all. Perhaps that fear is the reason
that as students we were the overachievers and as teachers we not only have one
lesson plan each day, but two alternative plans just in case.
Lucky for me the dream didn’t occur
this year. This August I have awakened from
a calm sleep by two dogs, Bubba and Rufus, leaping on me and licking my face. To Bubba and Rufus this is time for our
walk. The nightmares of August are
over. My new students are these two
obedient dogs that sit at each intersection and wait for my “Good Boys” signal
to walk safely across the street. Two dogs who sit when I stop and watch a hawk
perched three yards from us sail off. There are no more lesson plans, no more
papers to correct, and no more nightmares.
. . oh, the joy of retirement.
