Saturday, May 12, 2012

The Last Week


Honestly, it doesn't seem like it was that long ago that I was starting this blog and getting ready to begin my Alaskan Adventure. Of course, as far as depth of experience goes, I feel like a lifetime has passed since I was the girl who first posted here.

In one week and 2 days, I will leave Alaska, perhaps for the last time.

I have spent plenty of time this spring reflecting on things I will and will not miss about the village, as well as the things I have missed the most from "outside".

I will miss:
-The absolute silence that engulfs you once you are outside of the village proper. It is almost eerie; the sense of nothingness and insignificance, and the realization that the village is an almost comically tiny outpost just barely clinging to the skirts of the vast Alaskan wild.
-The ever changing view of the Bering Sea right outside my living room window. From sparkling blue to slate grey, slushy brown with floating ice chunks, to a frozen, flat desert. It is one of the most interesting cycles I have ever witnessed.
-Hearing the bush planes fly overhead, then watching them make the turn out over the water to come in for a landing. No matter how many times I see this, it never gets old. There is a certain amount of comfort in knowing that the planes are still flying - it means we are still connected to the outside world. There is also a profound sense of wonder in the miracle of flight, more pronounced in the small, improbable bush planes than in commercial jets.
-The desolate, treeless, romantically bleak tundra landscape. It is a place which requires a closer look to be truly appreciated. In the summertime, the tundra is covered in hummocks of green-brown, which upon closer inspection reveal an entire miniature ecosystem in a surprising array of colors and textures. Tiny, delicate mosses and lichens, grasses, and berry plants intermingle to create a springy, marshy carpet. A vivid color palette exists in every shade of green, from electric lime to subtle sage. Red and purple berries, rusty-leaved ground cover, and waxy, succulent-like plants add accent to the barrage of green. Of course, when the weather turns, all of this life goes into hibernation mode, and the arrival of snow blankets everything in sameness.
-Village English. Hearing it, using it, all the different nuances and patterns...it's almost been like learning a new language.
-The moments of absurd, laugh-out-loud humor I have shared and experienced with my students. Also, the moments of connection - those lightbulb-switching-on-overhead moments of "I get it!"
-Fall salmon fishing - setting the net, hauling in the catch, filleting the fresh fish right there on our porch...the first time I cut fish here was the first time I really felt "Alaskan."
-Watching the sun set behind Stewart Island.
-Beach combing for heart rocks and sea glass.
-Eskimo Dance. The beat of the drums, the wail of the singers, the rhythmic movement of the dancers as they bob and gesture - it's a window into the past, one of the last vestiges of an ancient culture that has been largely Westernized.


Things I have missed the most from "outside" during my time here are:

-My family. It is such a fiasco getting in and out of the village, there are no such thing as spur-of-the-moment visits home. Not to mention the expense, and the fact that you couldn't pay my mom to get on a bush plane to come visit.
-Driving.
-Going to the store with a shopping list, and getting everything on the list. Not only that, but having a variety to choose from (i.e. instead of one brand and kind of cheese, 50 different brands and kinds).
-Alcohol. I am by no means a heavy drinker, but there are times when I would definitely appreciate a beer after a long day. Not to mention having wine on hand for cooking. Living in a dry village is kind of a joke anyways...almost everyone here drinks except for the teachers. We have the most to lose though (job/teaching license), whereas others may just receive a slap on the wrist if caught importing/brewing/consuming.
-A social life. With a few exceptions, teachers hang with other teachers, and that's it. Living, working, and socializing with the same people day in and day out is the definition of monotony. Not that I don't enjoy hanging with my co-workers, it's just that there's little choice in the matter, and almost zero opportunity for social expansion.
-Volleyball and track. My attempt to coach volleyball last year was an abysmal failure (no turnout), and there is no track team whatsoever (weather). While I have at least had a few opportunities to play volleyball with coworkers, I haven't thrown a discus in two years. I have missed the stress relief of being able to go out and throw something heavy every once in awhile. I am very much looking forward to having both of these sports back in my life in greater capacity.
-Espresso coffee shops, frozen yogurt shops, and other restaurants in general. Just the idea of having food at your fingertips; to be able to drive up, order, pick-up, and go is fantastic. There is an overall convenience of living/accessibility factor that I have missed these past two years.
-Shopping...in a STORE. Online is great in a pinch, but it is nowhere near as satisfying as the instant gratification you get in an actual store. Not to mention the thrill of the hunt at places like Ross, TJ Maxx, and Tuesday Morning (the discount shopping holy trifecta!).
-Going out and about with my dog, and taking him on walks without having to keep my head on a swivel at all times. The local attitudes towards canines here are something I will NOT miss.

I am glad that I came here and did all that I have done, but it is time to move on to the next phase of my life. My Alaska Adventure may be over (for now, or forever), but it will always be here with me. These past two years have built the foundation for the rest of my career as an educator; I am forever changed.


Sunday, April 1, 2012

In Which I Make My Glorious Return To The Blogosphere...

OK. I have been harangued several times both virtually and in person regarding the sad state of affairs on my blog. You are not wrong - it has been a loooooong time since I have had the wherewithal to sit down and pen (type) a few lines of meaningful prose about my adventure-filled Alaskan life. Here's my excuse (oh yes, of course there is an excuse): If you will recall, my last post was in late September, the very beginning of the year. Well, since that time, the pace of life has picked up considerably. As you may recall, our school was bestowed with a School Improvement Grant from the state at the beginning of the year. Let me tell you, that thing doesn't mess around. It has been a real a** kicker for sucking up free time, and leaving us (the hardworking teachers of Stebbins School) in a perpetual state of exhaustion. Long days and short weekends have been the way of it; burning the candle at both ends. And I don't think I speak only for myself when I say, this candle is just about burnt out.

That brings us up to today, where we are on the eve of statewide standardized testing, the end-all-be-all of our school year. Everything we have done for our SIG leads up to this one week. We teachers are spent. The kids are growly. The mood throughout the school is tense. How can you base everything that has happened in your classroom throughout the course of the year on what happens during this one week? It's daunting and discouraging, to be sure. I can only take solace in the fact that I have done everything in my power to help prepare my students for this week. What they do with that preparation is up to them. The whole "leading a horse to water" bit, you know?

I don't want to come off as an opponent of standardized testing, because that is patently untrue. I don't necessarily see the point in doing what I do every day if it isn't going to amount to anything. Students should be tested on what they (should) have learned - seems like a simple concept, right? The way in which we go about testing could maybe use some tweaks, especially out here in rural Alaska where life is SO very different from the norm. But, I am just a simple teacher...what do I know? I leave those big decisions to the higher-ups, and just take care of the things within my small sphere of influence. I DO know that once this week is through, we are all going to be breathing a collective sigh of relief, teachers and students alike.

Testing week marks the beginning of the end of the year. Once those tests are under our belts, it is full steam ahead towards May 18. It's hard to believe that the end of my second year of teaching is in sight. This year has certainly had its ups and downs...both at school and in life. It has been a hardship being without my canine companion this year. While I have been able to see Roman via Skype whenever I call home to talk to Mom and Dad, it just isn't the same. Not by a long shot. Last year, even at my worst, I could always count on that goofy poodle to make me smile, or at least take me out of myself for a while. This year I haven't had that, and the absence has been difficult to bear. On the other hand, though, I am so relieved to know that Roman is safe and sound with Mom and Dad and his sister, Sonja (a.k.a Poodle), in Vancouver. He did not have the happiest life here in Stebbins last year - no one to play with other than Ben and me, and long walks were a rarity because of weather, and because my overprotective self just couldn't get used to the necessity of having to constantly look over my shoulder for canine assailants when we were out. Having students (more than once) threaten his life then laugh about it was also a deterrent to me bringing Roman back with me for year two.

And that brings me up to the good news which triggered this post in the first place: This past Friday, I accepted a teaching position in Grace, Idaho, where I will be teaching junior and senior English, senior American government, and coaching volleyball. I have known most of this year that this would be my last in Stebbins, maybe even my last in Alaska. Shortly after we returned from Christmas break, I began the process of job searching in Alaska, Washington, and Idaho (the three states in which I hold teaching certificates). To stay in Alaska, I would have only accepted a position on "the road" (anything connected by road - no bush planes, no ferries). For Washington and Idaho, I just began applying for anything that popped up within my certification (English and history, grades 6-12). It just so happened that Idaho had several jobs open with my certification a few weeks ago, so I put in for them all. And one called back.

My principal came blustering into the 5th grade portable during my writing class this past Monday afternoon, completely catching me off guard by telling me that he had just talked to someone from Idaho about me, and that I would more than likely be getting a job offer from them soon. I did some sleuthing between my writing classes and found that the call had come from the district where I had put in for a 6th grade position. I was disappointed at first, because of all the jobs for which I had sent in apps, the 6th grade position was the one I was least keen on. Being a 6th grade self-contained teacher means teaching MATH, which I hate with a passion. Ever since our schedule shake-up at the end of the first semester, I have been teaching exclusively reading and writing and loving it. Going back to teaching math would not be ideal. However, I had put in the application in the first place because I have taught self-contained middle school, and as I said, I was applying with abandon for anything remotely within my qualifications. So. I got home from school that day to find several messages on my machine from the district where I applied for the 6th grade job, trying to get ahold of me to schedule an interview. I was feeling really flustered so I didn't call them back right away. Instead, I called my mom. We talked it out, discussed the fact that it was really early yet to be making any decisions, but interviewing would certainly be good practice and I ought to at least consider the job if they offered. I went to bed feeling excited, with all intention of calling back and scheduling that interview in the morning.

At 6:17 AM the next morning, our phone rang. I was weighing my options of getting up an answering, but it was Ben who ultimately had the wherewithal to get up and take the call. When I heard him say "yeah, hold on a moment, I'll get her," I knew my morning routine of hitting 'snooze' until the last possible moment was cancelled for the day. I quickly shuffled to the bathroom to yank out my mouthguard and swish some of the morning breath from my mouth while Ben dutifully held the phone. I answered in my best "of course I'm wide awake at 6 AM!" voice, and found myself talking to a gentleman who identified himself as the superintendent of both the North Gem School District (where I had applied for the 6th grade job) and the neighboring Grace School District. As we talked, he revealed that in addition to the 6th grade position in North Gem, he also had an open high school English position and head volleyball coaching position in Grace. That certainly got my attention!

Long story short: I did some research on my own in addition to the information I got from the superintendent and the high school principal (who I talked to later that morning). I interviewed with North Gem for the 6th grade position on Wednesday morning, but it must have been just for formality's sake, because Wednesday afternoon the superintendent called me back to offer the high school position in Grace. He gave me a week to think about it, but I didn't need that long. I spent a sleepless night on Wednesday "what-if"ing myself into a tizzy, on Thursday I did more research and counseled with my mom and Ben, and by Friday afternoon I couldn't have been happier to call and accept the job.

So, there you have it. Seven more weeks, and my great Alaska adventure comes to a close. I am excited and anxious to move on to the next phase of my life. These past two years have been an important transition period for me into adulthood, but that period has run its course. I am ready for a more settled, balanced, "normal" existence. I am looking into buying a house and putting down some roots. So much to contemplate! I suppose that also means an end to this blog as you, my readers, have known it. I know reading about my life in eastern Idaho will probably pale in comparison, but perhaps I will have a few adventures there that are blog-worthy :)

I'll leave you today with a collection of photos from throughout the late fall and winter:

October.

Icy coating.

Flying Wild Alaska!

Snowy walk.


First ice!


Big November storm. Where is the beach?


December sunrise.

I haven't had the time to get out and do much photographing this spring, but I will try to get some more pics up before the year ends. Ta ta for now, though!

-Jane