Surviving January: Part II

“My budget is tighter than my grip on reality.”

– heard in a video about adults falling into debt in order to let their children, or themselves, enjoy vacations.

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Okay, first of all, it is a little unfair of me to use that as a title. The last time I wrote about January, and my own mixed feelings about this time of the year, was three years ago. Since then, at least two colleagues at my college have either retired or been fired. I have also found myself working for another school both in person and online. And I note that time has touched everyone, especially the ones close to me. I have had to help my mother and stepfather around the house more often every time I have returned home for the winter holidays, and I realize that I am also getting older, at least in my own eyes. The people I work with and for note that I am still full of energy and that I seem younger than my age (not to be listed here). And maybe that is why I am writing this tonight.

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Isn’t it sort of cruel that the year begins with one of the most cruel months of the year (April is not the month I associate with cruelty, Mr. Eliot)? The days are colder, shorter, rawer in the skin and in our heads. I know that the news that we are exposed to daily is also not helping anyone cope with the season, but I always think that things can pass, and that we can deal with almost anything when in the right state of mind. But January really takes something out of all of us (note that I have not mentioned anything about resolutions for the new year). It makes demands on us that we know we should anticipate, yet always take more out of us than we can imagine.

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I don’t mean to get too deep with this. I have so many drafts and ideas that need my attention, and along with that I have started my first week of the semester at the college (so far, so good, I think… ) One student has told me, after the first lesson, that she was really looking forward to the classes.

My response?

“Really?”

She and her friends laughed, but it was a real question in the back of my mind that had to come out. I have been doing this for almost twenty years at the same school, and I often wonder if I am really making a difference with the work. Recent conversations with my brother have also stuck with me and had me wondering about my life. He believes, at my age, that I am a “turning point” in my life. He would love for me to get a job that is much more lucrative, more stable, and perhaps closer to home…and yet he wants me to keep teaching.

Well, there’s the conundrum, isn’t it? My home province announced last year that over ten thousand instructors had been fired by different colleges and schools. And the prospect of teaching in a high school anywhere near the scene of the crime – i.e., my hometown – fills me with a dread that I cannot even put into words. There is a phrase that I discovered in the same video mentioned above and it seems apt for my particular problem:

Emotional Algebra

I was tempted to use it as the name of this piece, but I did not want to risk using a phrase that I am still trying to understand. After suffering through many long and tedious math lessons in school, I feel it means the ability to look at your state of mind and calculate what you can achieve with your emotions (if this seems off, I am willing to hear from any analysts or mathematicians for alternate ideas).

So, this is my January statement, with all of the tediousness of my thoughts and ideas on the page and at my fingertips. I still need to send in some material for prep work this week, and I have not made too much of a start to it except for a few notes.

And the month goes on.

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You can find more poems, stories, and articles by Kendall Defoe on my Vocal profile. I complain, argue, provoke and create...just like everybody else.

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