I tried to post on April 12 to mark nine months passing since that last post (you know, like a pregnancy) but it didn’t go through.

The July 12 post noted that there was one month to go before school began. I could have posted on April 27 to commemorate one month remaining before school ends. But I didn’t.

At this rate, living by the moniker “jasonwrites” is passing from a state of hyperbole to outright fraud. It’s never too late to change, though. And yes, I know I’ve said this before.

Teaching is a tremendously time-consuming and exhausting profession, but there are plenty of teachers online who post engaging content during the school year. If I added up all the time I wasted researching new browsers (a strange fetish of mine) or surfing through Stumbleupon or FanIQ, in addition to all the other ways I use my computer to avoid grading, I could have written and shared tens of thousands of words.

From the evening of May 26– the day before the last day of school– through at least the next four days, I’ll be the only human home, and so I plan to have a veritable explosion of digital verbosity then and re-establish my presence. But in the meantime, I hope I can gather two or three readers to encourage my trickling back to relevance.

Those who know me, know me, and I hope they’ll come here to read. I also hope to gain new readers. However, I adjusted the privacy settings so that this site isn’t supposed to show up in search engines. My main concern is that no one can type my first and last name into Google and come up with this site. Much of what I write here concerns my professional life and my feelings about it, as I struggle to come into my own as a second-year teacher. I’m careful to not use names, certainly never real names, and not to reveal specific details that would give away my school’s location and/or identity. The opinions expressed herein are my own, and I do not mean to disparage any particular individuals. However, statements made in the vacuum of print may be misconstrued, and I do not wish to generate any alienation, hostility, or general ill will towards me on the part of students, parents, colleagues, or supervisors. Furthermore, I thoroughly intend to find another position for the next school year, and I don’t want any potential employers to come up with this site in connection with my name.

Therefore, if you do know me, I certainly encourage you to comment, but please refrain from using my full name in said comments, or from revealing any specific information of the kinds I discussed above. It’s pretty obvious here that my first name is “Jason,” and I’m fine with you knowing that, but other details– such as the names of my wife and children– need not be shared. Hopefully these measures will be enough to moderately protect my identity.

One may wonder why I would take any risk at all in this regard, and I hope the following answers that, at least in explaining my own rationale. Some of what follows will be redundant with what I wrote above.

1) I have to write, and I have to make it public.
2) Though few people will ever read said public writing, some who do may be in a position to make decisions regarding my employment.

The latter matters because one of the reasons I need a public forum is because it’s the best way I know how (in my little universe) to vent– get it all out– and much of what I need to “get out” involves my profession in general and my current job in particular.

You see, I’m a teacher. I’m now in my second year.

Last year I was blogging about my first year in the field on a site that was all too accessible (edit: this same site, actually). If you Googled my first and last name, it would pop right up on the first page. I never gave it too much thought. That was, until my principal had a conversation with me about it.

This principal is a man I respect and admire; I’d even call him a friend, to whatever extent one can be friends with the boss. He’s always been upfront with me, and he’s demonstrated a sincere desire to see me succeed in my teaching career.

During a conversation about this time a year ago, he casually remarked that I might want to be careful about “what I said on my website.” Apparently, there were remarks that could have been interpreted disparagingly among various parties.

He wasn’t trying to censor me, or impede my freedom of speech in any way. I know this. He was politely warning me that exercising this freedom could, under certain circumstances, piss the wrong people off and create roadblocks in my career path.

Teachers historically have been held to a higher moral standard because, you know, we’re entrusted with your children for several hours, five days a week, nine-plus months a year. So there’s this perception that teachers shouldn’t smoke, drink, swear, fornicate… what have you. Or, for that matter, have opinions.

Obviously, a professional educator does not exhibit those behaviors in the classroom. But there’s been teachers who’ve been taken to task for extracurricular activities– far from school grounds, well outside school hours. The deliciousness of the double standard is that more is expected, and less given for compensation. The National Education Association– which some Republicans would categorize among the most evil of labor unions– is campaigning for a $40,000 minimum salary for all public school teachers. Gee, who do we think we are, asking for a living wage?

Only bad teachers work 40 hours a week. Yes, there are bad teachers. I’m not a cheerleader for everyone– I expect all my colleagues to exhibit professionalism and dedication to their work. Good teachers work 50, 60 hours, or more each week during the school year. I still believe it’s difficult for anyone outside the profession to really understand how much time is involved in everything one has to do, from planning and preparation, gathering materials, analyzing assessment data, re-evaluating how to best reach each one of your students’ unique learning styles, and, above all, that greatest bugaboo, grading.

I just get tired of feeling like I’m working all the time. Seven days a week. There’s always more to grade, more lessons to plan. I can’t catch up, much less get ahead. I’m stymied by my lack of organizational skill. I’m not terrible with it, but I’ve got a long way to go. I work with some individuals who are uber-organizers, who have a place for everything and everything in its place, whose classrooms operate at peak efficiency through lockstep routines and procedures. These people have their classes planned out weeks, even months ahead, and can give you an airtight, standards-based rationale for whatever content or strategy they may be teaching on a given day. And because they’re so organized and prepared every moment, their students almost never fall out of place marching along. They sit quietly and do what they’re told.

I’m not that kind of teacher.

More importantly, though, I’m desperate to believe that you don’t have to be that kind of teacher to be a successful teacher.

In the meantime, though, I’m tired of living through long hours every afternoon, when even the newest hires– one first-year, one long-term sub– consistently leave the building long before I do. What am I doing wrong? What’s the secret? I feel like there’s something people aren’t telling me.

Part of the problem is that I’m not teaching my subject. I am an English teacher at heart– but I’m currently trapped in a Social Studies teacher’s body. More on that next time.

Xanga held a lot of promise in the beginning, as it hosted a community of talented, engaging, adult writers. But as the decade continued and seemingly every teenager in this country (and many others) gained apparent 24/7 Internet access, this demographic essentially took over the site, and Xanga became a precursor to MySpace, which it now tries to emulate through extended profiles, chatboards, photoblogs, et. al. I can’t begrudge the Xanga Team their desire to grab a share of MySpace’s phenomenal success. They are a corporation, after all; they’re in business to make money.

Towards this end, what has plagued Xanga the most, from the beginning, is that it’s always been a shoestring operation. They started with maybe half a dozen staff and haven’t much more than doubled that. That wasn’t such a problem with a couple thousand users; it’s very much an issue with 50 million. The balloon is bound to burst. There’s been a range of technical issues from the beginning. For example, lately, the posts on my page have taken to cutting off right in the middle when displayed– and thus leaving no link for comments.

Over the past few years I’ve looked at other bloghosts: LiveJournal (too much like Xanga), TypePad (pretty, but not free: that’s a problem), Blogger (fairly attractive look, but little community feel), and the entries from the corporate heavyweights: MSN Spaces (offers nothing I’ve seen to recommend it) and Yahoo! 360– which I was so excited about– because I really like Yahoo’s products. I even tried to keep my blog there, but I just didn’t care for it. It doesn’t offer much customizability, and after over a year they’re still in beta; what’s up with that?

I’m a grown-up, thirty-one years old, and about to start my professional career, finally. I want to be taken seriously as a blogger, and as a writer in general. That’s why I have this username– jasonwrites; it’s as simple as my first name and the verb. But the verb, for me, is in the imperative mood. If I put this name out there, I have to live up to it; it’s intentional self-motivation. I’m hoping it will work a bit better for me here on WP.

What will you see here? A lot of personal stuff, to be sure; your basic journaling, recordings of my everyday life, which, though hardly adventurous, is never boring, at least for the one living it (me). But I also reserve the right to discourse on a veritable plethora of topics, including the big no-no’s for “polite conversation,” religion and politics– and especially why they shouldn’t mix. In the meantime, I’ll just cheat and copy-and-paste from my other sites– how’s that for instant content?