Smatterings

For the past few days I've been "sequestered" in a jury room waiting to be called "to duty." Actually, I was called once to be in a jury pool and twice to be a potential juror, only I was excused both times. The first because I have a workshop I've paid to attend next week this particular trial required at least a week's service. The second because it was a child abuse case and I cannot, will not be impartial. If 22 years of teaching has provided any lessons it is that the kids, no matter how horrible they may behave, never deserve to be hit. And they never deserve to be hit with an "object" as the court reporter described it.

"I cannot be impartial," I told the judge. He asked me to elaborate. How could I begin to tell him of the numerous cases I've had to report, the 3 times I've served as a witness in three different cases and the bastards still walked away with their abused kids in tow, or the kids I've known who were terrified to testify against their abuser.

"It sounds like you've lost faith in the jury system," the rather arrogant judge told me.

"Absolutely not," I replied. "It's this system that will weed me out because I am biased."

I was excused.

But being excused just throws you back into the jury pool for the possibility of being selected again for a different judge and a different trial. It's like some form of modern-day medieval torture. "Back to the dungeon!"

It wasn't that bad. I enjoyed the silence of it. No classroom clamor, no end of the year stress, lots of time to go to the bathroom, an hour+ lunch...it was civilized. I practiced imagining having that kind of time to think, that kind of space in my head not to have to hold 7000 "to dos" in the air at once. I could get used to this, I thought.

But it's made it difficult to go back to work for these last 15 days.

15 days. It seems so short when I say it or write it, but I know that the next 15 days are their own form of medieval torture.

And this has been a difficult class. Very difficult. They have very little depth. Some of them do, but as a whole, they are meager of soul. I haven't had a class like this in a long time. It makes leaving odd. Kind of like a professional athlete going out on a bad year versus say Brett Farve who went out on a relatively good year.

With a bad year you kind of feel like it's time to go because you've overshot your effectiveness. With a good year you kind of leave it all out on the field.

I think I left it out on the field last year and this year is my professional embarrassment.

Well, it's not that bad, but let's just say I'm not going to win any award. Not that I ever have, but I have a sour taste in my mouth or at least I feel one coming on.

So 15 days feels in many regards like an eternity and in that eternity there is a lot to get done, none of which I feel motivated to do. It didn't help to spend the past 2 days watching how the rest of the world operates. Even at lunch, out in the courtyard of City Hall with busy traffic and lots of people and planes overhead and construction in the background, it was peaceful. The classroom is never that peaceful. No one ever takes their time like the judges did in their courtrooms.

Tomorrow is supposed to be in the mid-80s. I'm not sure what to do with that. It's been in the 30s and 40s for months now. Rainy, cloudy, chilly...even frosty. My bones have been damp for days and days. And now heat. It will make those last 15 days feel literally and figuratively like hell. No one can focus in that unexpected and sudden heat, least of all the kids.

These smatterings seem bleak. I'm not feeling bleak. I'm feeling...what's the word? I'm feeling...resigned. Like going to the dentist to have teeth drilled and filled. It's going to take as long as it takes and I must endure the drills and the shots and the forever opening of my mouth clogged with someone else's fingers and hands.