Today I was trying to think of alternatives to drowning one's sorrows in the bottle. Nothing much came to mind. At first I came up with cigarettes and coffee, but that is less like drowning your sorrows and more like winding them up very tightly and injecting them with speed. TV and chocolate eating are other options, but I already employ those and they don't seem to be working.
Not very many kids came to school today because it was Halloween. Somehow I didn't think they were missing much. And it was sadly peaceful without them, as a disproportionate number of the missing kids were also the disruptive kids. Surprise, right?
I have nothing much of note to express today, except the sinking feeling that my indignation is slowly becoming resignation. Or, not so much resignation as boredom and desolation.
One strange thing was that I got a sample lesson plan I wrote back from one of my instructors. It was a lesson on human evolution and pre-history (ie Australopithecines, Homo habilis/erectus/sapiens, etc). She liked it, but said that in the lesson I needed to address the tension between evolution and creationism. I thought that was really weird. It's not even intelligent design. And creationism takes many different forms, depending on the particular belief system. I don't think I would feel comfortable bringing it up in class. Perhaps if a kid asks about it, we could have a discussion, but I think that kind of thing falls in the realm of the parents, not the teacher. I mean, we don't teach the many religious/social/ethnic/gendered/etc sides of all issues, so why this one? Personally I don't feel there's much of a controversy regarding evolution, if we're talking about science and generally accepted scientific fact, so I don't know why I would have to say there is one. Students can still believe whatever they want to, but it's not going to come from me.
I have also come around to the fact that, for the first time, I am an academic outsider. Socially, well let's just say I owned a shirt with giraffes on it. But that didn't really matter. It's so strange now to know that people see me as some kind of outcast, or malcontent. The whole thing just makes me so tired. And you know you're in trouble when you start identifying with Churchill's speeches from the late thirties.