The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year
"Well we got no choice
All the girls and boys
Makin' all that noise
'Cause they found new toys
Well we can't salute ya
Can't find a flag
If that don't suit ya
That's a drag
School's out for summer
School's out forever
School's been blow to pieces.
Well we got no class
and we got no principles
And we got no innocense
We can't even think of a word that rhymes.
No more pencils
No more rule-books
No more teachers dirty looks."
--Alice Cooper—School’s Out from the LP of the same name, 1972.
I suppose I could lie, but why? Ah, it’s the most wonderful time of the year for the teachers and the students everywhere. And I am not one of those people who will give this BS on how hard I work all summer—whereas I plan things and correct some errors from the year, I do not put in an eight hour day, seven days a week. Hah! Not even close.
So while I wipe the smirk off of my face, I admit that the salary fits me fine and I will never complain because I have ten weeks off. Ten weeks is not too shabby.
I went to the graduation, sore drained knee and all, for the simple reason that I promised this class I would. Graduations are all pretty much the same program: Intro—Band plays Pomp and Circumstance/Salutatorian address/Valedictorian Address/Principal Speech/Chorus Song/Superintendent Comments/Class Secretary does the roll call of all names—the people yelling the loudest for their kids know that they embarrass the child, but its OK I suppose/Closing Comments/Graduates move tassels over, throw hats in the air/all the while the crowd fans themselves with the programs.
Beforehand I stand around in the commons area and talk to the kids and pose for pictures with some of them. Afterwards, I do the same and bump into former students and pray to all above I remember their names.
Now I rarely do this, but here is my advice for the grads because I have noticed a change with the college grads as new teachers and I noticed this change with the folks graduating high school today. I consider this a direct result of the late end Baby Boomers and the Generation X-er’s who have kids. One of my friends coined the term and I cannot agree more—do not be a “first-round draft pick.”
What is a “first-round draft pick?” That’s the guy on the team who thinks the team revolves around him because he was chosen first. He feels he walks on water and he feels that the world owes him something.
Here’s the deal:
Never forget where you came from and never forget other people came from somewhere as well.
Experience matters more than degrees—I have multiples of both, so trust me.
New ways are not always the best ways—the tried and true ways still work.
Listen in life, learn in life, and suggest—do not demand—in life.
Remember, if you step on people on the way up the ladder, they will kick the crap out of you on your way down.
Life is cyclical. There are ups, downs, rounds and rounds. Go with the flow.
Move on and try not to dwell.
When you dance with the Devil, you will be burned—so watch who you suck up to and beware the burning of bridges.
When you look in the mirror, be proud of whom you see—otherwise, you are not worth much to yourself.
Now I will step off the soapbox—I plan on enjoying the next ten weeks.
Enjoy the Grind…
All the girls and boys
Makin' all that noise
'Cause they found new toys
Well we can't salute ya
Can't find a flag
If that don't suit ya
That's a drag
School's out for summer
School's out forever
School's been blow to pieces.
Well we got no class
and we got no principles
And we got no innocense
We can't even think of a word that rhymes.
No more pencils
No more rule-books
No more teachers dirty looks."
--Alice Cooper—School’s Out from the LP of the same name, 1972.
I suppose I could lie, but why? Ah, it’s the most wonderful time of the year for the teachers and the students everywhere. And I am not one of those people who will give this BS on how hard I work all summer—whereas I plan things and correct some errors from the year, I do not put in an eight hour day, seven days a week. Hah! Not even close.
So while I wipe the smirk off of my face, I admit that the salary fits me fine and I will never complain because I have ten weeks off. Ten weeks is not too shabby.
I went to the graduation, sore drained knee and all, for the simple reason that I promised this class I would. Graduations are all pretty much the same program: Intro—Band plays Pomp and Circumstance/Salutatorian address/Valedictorian Address/Principal Speech/Chorus Song/Superintendent Comments/Class Secretary does the roll call of all names—the people yelling the loudest for their kids know that they embarrass the child, but its OK I suppose/Closing Comments/Graduates move tassels over, throw hats in the air/all the while the crowd fans themselves with the programs.
Beforehand I stand around in the commons area and talk to the kids and pose for pictures with some of them. Afterwards, I do the same and bump into former students and pray to all above I remember their names.
Now I rarely do this, but here is my advice for the grads because I have noticed a change with the college grads as new teachers and I noticed this change with the folks graduating high school today. I consider this a direct result of the late end Baby Boomers and the Generation X-er’s who have kids. One of my friends coined the term and I cannot agree more—do not be a “first-round draft pick.”
What is a “first-round draft pick?” That’s the guy on the team who thinks the team revolves around him because he was chosen first. He feels he walks on water and he feels that the world owes him something.
Here’s the deal:
Never forget where you came from and never forget other people came from somewhere as well.
Experience matters more than degrees—I have multiples of both, so trust me.
New ways are not always the best ways—the tried and true ways still work.
Listen in life, learn in life, and suggest—do not demand—in life.
Remember, if you step on people on the way up the ladder, they will kick the crap out of you on your way down.
Life is cyclical. There are ups, downs, rounds and rounds. Go with the flow.
Move on and try not to dwell.
When you dance with the Devil, you will be burned—so watch who you suck up to and beware the burning of bridges.
When you look in the mirror, be proud of whom you see—otherwise, you are not worth much to yourself.
Now I will step off the soapbox—I plan on enjoying the next ten weeks.
Enjoy the Grind…
posted by Eric Sweetwood at 8:44 PM
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