Sunday, September 28, 2014

Dauntless


A new job at a school with a large faculty provides numerous gift knitting opportunities.  (I just finished sewing the buttons on this Feather and Fan sweater today, one that is identical to one I made within the past year.)  
      
“Since a new job is almost always accompanied by new surroundings, new co-workers, new responsibilities and many uncertainties, starting a new job is a significant source of stress.” 

                               -Melissa Stöppler, MD, About Stress Management Guide     


       Shoulders back.  Hair styled.  Blouse pressed. Nails manicured.  Like most people, whenever I go on a job interview, I present my best self—polished, suited up, self-assured. I also intentionally and methodically muster up a plan for suppressing any signs of insecurity, so that I appear self-confident.  And I always know whether my tactics have been successful before  I have even left the meeting—whether the encounter was a terrifying exercise in pregnant pauses and awkward responses or a test I mastered, where I vanquished my fears and passed my worry-wart self off as a competent professional.  Of course, in the larger scheme of things, the interview is only a minute portion of the challenges faced when one accepts a new job. 

In teaching, at least, it’s the first year at a new school that’s the most frightening.

I’ve been a bit absent from my blog lately, as I’ve been attempting to navigate the waters of a large and prestigious public high school.  On some days, in my new post,  I feel like the seasoned pro who has spent more than twenty-two years in the classroom and on others I see myself as a naïve first-year teacher, so intent on completing every task perfectly--organizing files, completing requisite forms, handling lessons with flair and aplomb--trying so hard that that I sink slowly gasping for air, ending up bungling even simple administrative tasks. 

At night, I wake up in the wee hours of the morning and my thoughts are always on school.  I think about particular students—the boy who mutters under his breath about the injustice of school cell phone confiscation, or the  poised, articulate daughters of the public school’s aristocracy who bring to mind Emma Wodehouse (from Jane Austen's Emma), reminding me in moments of uncertainty that I am merely Harriet Smith, blessed by their presence, a satellite in their bright and shiny spheres.  A particularly imposing and self-assured teacher also lurks in my nightmares, correcting me for grammatical errors in my emails and chiding me for computer log-in incompetence.  And the parents!    Teacher and administrators both have taken me aside for tête-à-têtes to warn me of menacing helicopter moms and dads, whirling overhead, ready to descend to question a point value on my course prospectus.  


This is a cropped sweater I am making for myself using Knitcol yarn.  The easy ribbing and stockinette stitches make for a stress-relieving knitting project.   


“I’m not an attorney,” I tell my students as I smile broadly with an air of false bravado, and then add, “my online grade book is not the daily stock market report,” updated by the minute so that it can checked twice daily and fretted about.  I live in fear of some mom with sharp cheekbones and insect-like legs, who will stride into my classroom—with the air condescending air of one of Mr. Bingley’s sisters—and view me with derision.  Or worse, she might, in the manner of Lady Catherine de Bourgh, take me to task, not for daring to aspire to Mr. Darcy’s love but for implementing vague assignment rubrics and an ill-conceived grading point system. 

Of course, Elizabeth Bennett would not be cowed.  But, as she is a fictional character and therefore has the license to open the sluice gates to her sarcastic wit.  I am a public servant, of sorts, so biting my tongue, seeking advice from a close friend who is my age and is also new to her teaching job this year, and trying to view each day as a fresh page in a book of notes that will someday come together as a guide to steering the course in a foreign territory.  And, of course, there is knitting. . . .


This is another baby gift, but not for a newborn.  The sheep decorates the front of a sweater that has pink sleeves.  I haven't blocked this yet, so it doesn't look quite right yet.  


I have already purchased some gold and black yarn (my new school’s colors) and if daily life ever calms down a bit (if twelve-hour days become a thing of the past), I have plans to design a school-spirit baby sweater.  With a large staff, my new school should provide ample opportunities for baby knitting.  In fact, I’ve already completed a sweater for one co-worker’s baby to be.    And there is a fiber arts club to get started.  While I don’t want any new challenges at present, I’ll know that when I’m settled in here, when fear and self-doubt are—on most days—memories, I’ll be searching for activities to fill spare moments and will be ready to interact with students outside of the classroom, sharing my love of my knitting hobby.  


Several years ago a former co-worker, Genny, gave me some mohair/acrylic yarn that belonged to her mother who is no longer able to knit.  Genny retired last spring, so I've been working on this shawl for her, using the yarn she gave me.  The lace pattern doesn't look like much here, but should open up with blocking.  I'm using a pattern found in Brooke Nico's Lovely Knitted Lace.   This book is a  wealth of information and provides numerous gorgeous patterns.  

Until that time I’ll continue the daily battle and soldier on.  Facing the  interview, the first day, open house, computer logins, parents, students, co-workers is a  hurdle whose landing is softened by knitting respites.  In fact, knitting might even help improve my job effectiveness.  In an article entitled, "This is Your Brain on Knitting," author Jacque Wilson cites Catherine Carey Levisay, a clinical neuropsychologist and wife of Craftsy.com CEO John Levisay, who says that crafting "improves our self-efficacy" or "how we feel about performing particular tasks."   Elaborating on Levisay's statement, Wilson adds that "psychologists believe a strong sense of self-efficacy is key to how we approach new challenges and overcome disappointments in life. So realizing you can, in fact, crochet a sweater for your nephew can help you tackle the next big paper your teacher assigns."  I can only conclude that if knitting did, indeed, help me obtain my new post, maybe it will assist me in the day-to-day trials faced as a new employee.  I'm also reading a popular teen novel entitled Divergent (it's a movie, too), whose main character Tris faces fearful challenges every day to prove that she is, indeed, worthy of being inaugurated into the Dauntless faction in her society.  While this action-packed adolescent novel is a far cry from Austen's works, the main character's courage and perseverance are as inspiring as those of any Austen heroine.  

This vintage yarn looks a little dull and discolored here, but the photo is a bit deceptive.  The work in progress using this yarn is a color that looks bright and crisp.




1 comment:

  1. Liz! So glad to hear from you! I can't believe managed to lose track of you. It is so exciting to hear about your new job, it is even more exciting to hear about how you are dealing with the pressure. This has been an inspiring post to read! I'm glad that you have been finding time to knit!

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