Monday marked the first time in 20 years that I didn't begin the school year with my colleagues.

Tomorrow marks the first time in 20 years I won't be spending the First Day of School with my new class.

I knew it was coming. Of course. I had no idea how badly it would hit me.

As a kid, I was never called to the office. Well, once in high school, but that was different .

Breaking the rules just didn't appeal to me. I liked being happy, trying to do good. Being bad had no appeal.

But I have had a principal who has called me to the office. Nerve-wracking, tension-filled hours filled the time prior to my appointment. Parents don't like some things. And at least one peer. I realize now there could be two peers.

The list of my transgressions was shocking:

I had planned to use poetry notebooks
I read aloud
Both of these, there are more, strike to the heart of me. I am a reading fool. I love to read. I teach, giving part of my inner self to my kids. I can do this best, feel most comfortable, doing this--doing literature types of things.

IF I can find poetry or books that have to do with the science and math I'm teaching, then it's o.k....

I love blogging to myself. I can get things out of my system that way.

I have good friends. I am blessed by them.

I have good friends on PT and good places to go. This is a blessing, too.

Friends, family, PT -- it's all there, but still I need something different.

A little privacy with some accountability.

I have absolutely been in love with my teaching assignment this year. Love the grade level, the subjects -- math and science (even though I've always been a Lang. Arts kind of person, I wouldn't want to teach that right now), love my kids.

The uncertainty of firsts I'm experiencing would even be acceptable -- grading at the intermediate level, catching up to where my peers are in the lessons -- I could handle that, if I could have had a moratorium of sorts from contentious parents and evaluating administration for just a while longer.

I know that's not realistic. All parents surely have the right...

I just completed my second year as a non-homeroom teacher. I am beginning to better understand the term "displaced".

For 16 years, I was the captain of the ship and had a great time doing so. Even though I worked with other teachers to help educate "my" kids, I was the Big Cheese.

I "did" inclusion before it became the catch-phrase that it seems to be today. As a first grade teacher, my room was an inclusion room mostly by default. The district just didn't believe in identifying students with disabilities much before second grade.

Toward the end of those 16 years, students were identified more often. Our building also became the home base for our multiple handicapped students plus the students with behavior problems. Several of my kids in the last 3-4 years had many letters that went along with them -- LD, ED, MH.

Even though I worked with many other teachers, i.e. Title I/Reading Recovery, speech,...

I just posted to a thread about songs that always make me feel good.

I could have posted so many more than I did.

Love music. All kinds of music. The choices I included are from a long time ago. I was a different person then. But I still like the songs.

It always surprises the kids when they find another song that I like and, heaven forbid, they do, too.

I. LOVE. MUSIC.

I can't believe how much people I have never met, will probably never meet have made a difference in my life.

After I posted on PT for a while, I started getting used to seeing other people I recognized, either from their name or their avatar. (Remember this the next time there's a little "to do" and people say that they don't do this, too.)

It seems I respond more to a certain type of post. Maybe I do respond more to people I recognize. Not sure.

It's just amazing to me how I've been personally touched by others' friendliness and compassion.

It means a lot to me.