Happening now all over social media: parents crowing about their children returning to school on Monday.
What I don’t know is whether I’m going back to school along with the kids.
As far as I know, I’m done. I was asked to be there through Christmas. On December 23, I handed in my keys and told the secretary and my grade-partner teacher where I’d left a binder containing lesson plans, attendance records and grades. I took home my Christmas tree, Nativity scene and chalk holder.
I have no idea whether the teacher whose class I’ve been substitute-teaching will be back on Monday. I guess, due to those health-privacy laws, all kinds of things have to remain secret. And if I had a health issue that kept me from my job, I’d appreciate that privacy.
As Christmas vacation comes to a close, I am left more and more with the feeling that on Monday at 8 AM I’ll be getting a “where are you?” phone call.
My mom, whose decades of experience teaching in Catholic schools give her an opinion I can count on, says that it’s not my place to chase down anyone to find out if I need to be there Monday–but I should make sure to have some school clothes ironed, just in case.
So I guess I’ll clean the leftover candy canes out of my school tote bag and make sure there are plenty of stickers, band-aids and birthday pencils.
Beyond that, I’ll have to settle, right now, for not knowing what Monday will bring. That’s been one benefit of this long-term job. I knew where I’d be each day, and what I’d be doing. For me, that knowledge provides comfort.
I might have a day off on Monday, or I might be called in. I’ll feel better once I know.