handbookDecember 24, 2007
You know, our band has a handbook.
Here I am, stressing over the redesign of a program, and all I really need to do is consult the handbook. If I’d remembered to bring it with me on my trip to my mother’s, I would be better off. The handbook has a lot of answers in it.
Granted, I would not be able to put together lesson plans or grade schedules or test materials based solely on the handbook, but, by god, it would make it a whole sight easier.
Now, as analysis, I must say that this is a problem I have. I never take into perspective that there was life before me. I guess I get caught up in my existential-esque thought patterns, hoping to pinpoint the moment I arrive and what I did to get there. Trying to reinvent the wheel every time I arrive on a new doorstep is hardly the way to do things.
I get an elective office, I try and restructure it.
I get a new job, I try and reorganize it.
I get a new place, I try and redesign it.
It’s as if I assume that there was nothing going on before I got there. So, with this in mind, I reapproach the original questions I have to answer for my little dilemma:
How do I better interact with the students?
How do I change the environment of the classroom to be more safe and fun?
How do I interact with parents in a way that leads to positive support for the program?
If I would consult the handbook, I will see that, not only will I have a platform on which to base my interactions with students (supplemented by the lovely texts I’ve been reading), but I will also have an outline of the expectations of the students and what I should do to change the environment of the classroom. Doesn’t that sound simple?!
Geez, dude, you need to stop working so hard and start paying attention more.