Bulletin Board Love

Tonight I met with two fabulous teachers at the Plaza Grill. While sitting and discussing classroom matters, textbooks, and all manner of other "teacher stuff," it hit me how lucky I am. My daughter is beautiful, creative, and intelligent, my boyfriend is loving, understanding, and supportive, and I am lucky enough to teach.

While I don't have a classroom to call my own and students eagerly waiting to see what the next day in Ms. D's room will be like, I do have amazing colleagues, opportunities to teach where I can, and a librarian who is willing to let me help her with bulletin boards.

Have I told you how much I love bulletin boards? I love, love, love, love them. I live to think of new ideas. I love to cut the butcher paper, cloth, wrapping paper, tissue paper; whatever I decide to use to back the bulletin boards. Unrolling the long pieces of border and stapling them in neat, precise frames fills me with satisfaction. I crave the feel of the letters as I neatly arrange them in clever phrases or meaningful questions. Maps, posters, pictures, books, articles, student work, art replicas, masks, t-shirts, anything and everything that relates to my students, the community, the school, or our units of study cry out for display. I hunger to create vast displays that showcase my students and/or add to to their understanding of a concept. Bulletin boards are my reward for a long day of work. I always saved them for last. . .

So I began my daughter's school year as I have begun them for the past 4 years, in her school library. I sign in at the office front desk, clip the visitor badge to my shirt, and eagerly walk to the library. Blank corkboard greets me on nearly every wall and butcher paper lies across a library cart, practically crying out to be stapled. I greet Terry, the librarian, (who is feeding my bulletin board hunger) and I get to work, cutting out letters, arranging items, stapling, push-pinning, stepping back to look and rearranging until I get it right. I work for three hours and don't get nearly enough done, but I'm busy, I'm at a school, I'm surrounded by books, I'm being useful. She thinks that I'm helping her, but she is helping me far more than she can ever know.

I have more job applications to complete and I suppose that there is a slim chance that some school, somewhere nearby, may decide that they need me this year. Until then, or even perhaps until next year, whenever I can, I will do whatever bulletin boards need to be done in the library.

I wonder if changing them every week is too often?