I Feel Like a Fake

September 6, 2011 --   Today, in the middle of American Lit, or maybe it was closer to the beginning of class, I was standing in front of the kids setting up a lesson about setting.  And I looked at all of the eager faces in front of me and my stomach started to churn.  I could literally feel a wave of anxiety sweep over me.  I thought to myself, what the hell am I doing standing here?  I don't want to be here.  Let someone else teach them about setting!  I stink.  I'm a fake.  I am not a teacher!!  And then I took a breath, and then another one, and then I carried on the lesson.  And it turned out pretty well.  I think.  I am so overwhelmed and insecure right now, I just want to run away instead of sticking it out.  (There is that running away theme again...)  Deep down, I would never leave now because I would be so mad at myself for not finishing the year.  And I would never want to model that for my kids.  (My biological ones.)

But the reality is that I am tired.  And scared.  And so damn frustrated that I have three different classes to prepare for with all lower level kids and no curriculum to follow except an anthology and some paper backs.  No overview of what they need to know, what kind of analysis or element of lit, nothing.  That makes it so unbelievably difficult.  The other disciplines in my school have a set curriculum to follow.  But not the English dept.  Truly.  I just want to cry.

I know.  I know.  One day at a time.  But I worked all weekend and will work next weekend and the weekend after that...will I ever get a break?  And yes, I know other people do it too but I made this decision to go back to work.  I didn't get forced into it.  (ok -- maybe a little with Luke's college tuition and all...) but still.  I did love interior decorating.  But it wasn't consistent.  So now, I embrace consistent paychecks.  My biggest fear then, (since I went for this on my own volition) is that I made a mistake.  A huge one.  But I didn't.  Everything teaches us something.  And boy, am I learning.  As Brian said to me tonight, "it's all new."  It is.  Every little part of it, right on down to having to make my lunches every day.  Ughhhh.  God help me.  Please.