I feel pretty insignificant these days. It's like my best isn't good enough. Yesterday was a banner day. That assistant that returned to this classroom just isn't going to allow me to be myself. I can't do all that Mr. P did. His teaching style and mine aren't the same. It does not mean that he was better than me or that I am better than him. It just means that we are different. If she'd just give me a chance to get a rhythm going I think it will all work out.

But, see, it just gives me one more person that I'm trying to please. I can't go through that again. I want to be able to be myself.

This morning I look at my perpetual calendar and it says:

"Stop trying to control life...
and let it be."

I think that's what I should tell this woman. These are children. It's not wise to try to control every little detail of their personality. We can still allow them to be children. Yes, there needs to be discipline in the classroom but there also needs to be laughter and fun. Learning is supposed to be fun and exciting. I think I'm about to go back to that train of thought that I was exposed to 8 years ago-"Work is play, play is work." They'll learn so much more.

One of my students kept asking me about the tin man today. I don't know why he was fixated on that character. A song popped into my head and I had to look up the lyrics. It dawned on me that maybe I am the tin man because a few people feel that I have no heart rather than Dorothy who is merely lost. I am not heartless. I do care about people but I've learned that I can't change anyone but myself. I will certainly tell you that my new school has me thinking about the Wizard of Oz and I clearly told a student yesterday, "We're not in Kansas any more, Toto."

Tin Man

As sung by America

Sometimes late when things are real
And people share the gift of gab between themselves
Some are quick to take the bait
And catch the perfect prize that waits among the shelves

But Oz never did give nothing to the Tin Man
That he didn't, didn't already have
And Cause never was the reason for the evening
Or the tropic of Sir Galahad.

So please believe in me
When I say I'm spinning round, round, round, round
Smoke glass stain bright color
Image going down, down, down, down
Soapsuds green like bubbles

Oh, Oz never did give nothing to the Tin Man
That he didn't, didn't already have
And Cause never was the reason for the evening
Or the tropic of Sir Galahad

So please believe in me
When I say I'm spinning round, round, round, round
Smoke glass stain bright color
Image going down, down, down, down
Soapsuds green like bubbles

No, Oz never did give nothing to the Tin Man
That he didn't, didn't already have
And Cause never was the reason for the evening
Or the tropic of Sir Galahad

So please believe in me