MOVarazzi

Friday, February 17, 2012

670. Time To Spill The Frijoles

I am a substitute teacher at my sons’ schools. That is my latest job. I would love to write about it (face it, I write about everything else, and the high-end kitchen store certainly gave me good fodder to work with, so why not this job?), but it turns out, I signed this pesky official document called a Confidentiality Interest Agreement.

When someone who may or may not have been the principal was interviewing me, she (or he) may or may not have said, Working in a school is like being a doctor or lawyer—you are not allowed to talk about the students.

I’m confused. Which part is like being a doctor or lawyer? Because it isn’t the pay part. But I wanted the job, so I sat there nodding-nodding-nodding, like a little bobble-headed plastic doll, Please hire me because I am good with kids and also so I can work the exact same hours that my sons are in school all day.

The next thing you know, he or she may or may not have said, “I would like you to read over the Confidentiality Interest Agreement (CIA), tell me that you understand it, and sign it. I am a registered notary on the side, so I will notarize it and then we will keep a copy in your permanent file.”

I grinned a fake grin, the kind you might grin if your dentist told you that you had three cavities when you thought he was going to say you have the best teeth he’s ever seen.

Trembling and flashing back to my own school years (“permanent file”?!), I read the CIA and signed it. I vowed to “respect the privacy of all individuals I may come in contact with,” (this next part was in a different font, obviously added in recent years) “and refrain from publicizing any related incidents about such individuals via current advanced technological means. To clarify: no facebook, no blogging, no twittering, no social media-ing.” Social media was now a verb here at my older son’s school.

“Excuse me?” I squeaked, “I need to let you know: I blog. It’s what I do.” I shrugged, as if saying, My third toe is shorter than the rest—I was just born that way. I can’t help it: I blog.

She or he may or may not have ignored my comment. She or he may or may not have said under her (his) breath, “Look, we’re really short on subs.” I took my yellow copy of the signed CIA form, got three blood tests and a TB shot, passed a nationwide criminal background check, and started subbing the very next week.   

I’ve never blogged about my intermittent substitute teaching—even though I was hired way back in October—until now. I found a loophole.

The CIA applies to me writing about other people, there is nothing in there that forbids me from writing about myself. As long as I do not say anything negative about the students, we’re good. So here we go.

to be continued ...

20 comments:

  1. Congratulations on the new job!!! What great news!

    Just be careful. You have a great self-deprecating humour, but you don't want to write anything that casts yourself in a negative light (ie. disorganized at work, doing/saying embarrassing things, etc). Remember that parents and administrators might be reading your blog, even if you think it's anonymous.

    I'm at a point now where I'm figuring that I can start talking about anonymous kids who said funny things to me as a teacher. But I've taught in 3 different cities and 6 different schools, and the five-year-olds that I first started with are teenagers now, so no one would be able to figure out who I'm talking about.

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    1. you are absolutely right, stephanie. great advice. so if, say (hypothetically), a child approached me on, like, my second day of teaching, and I said something cheery to her, like for example, "Good Morning!" and then she said back, "I wish YOU were dead!" then no, I definitely would not blog about that. Plus it is so preposterous that no one would ever say that. FICTION I tell you, pure fiction!

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    2. Exactly. And you probably wouldn't want to talk about the parent who ran up to you in front of everyone, grabbed your stomach and asked you when you were due. And then you answered "Nope, I'm just fat!". Or maybe that was me.

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  2. OMG, I feel exactly the same way. I am terrified that one day my work will find out about my irreverent cartoon blog. I try really hard to keep work out of it, just to be safe.

    Also MOV, totally jealous of you and gweenbrick getting clay babooned.

    Hi Stephanie :)

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    1. it took me a very long time to blog about the high-end kitchen store, but everyone there was way cool about it. Mostly because I made fun of myself, customers, and Santa (not necessarily in that order) and never never never made fun of my co-workers. (except maybe The Boss. A teeny bit. Because she is awesome and we all love her-- I mean, I would not have stayed at a job for FOUR YEARS if I did not get along with my boss.)

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  3. You're like a casual Gweenbrick except you'll have smaller kids, be part time and won't have to wipe their bottoms. My husband is like a casual Gweenbrick too - without the bum wiping.

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    1. i like it! (the gweenbrick comparison, not the bum-wiping)

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  4. Congratulations on the job! I was a substitute teacher for awhile. However, it was long before I had children. I happened to be working in the same high school where my Dad was teaching. Having the same last name REALLY saved my hiney a couple of times. Good luck with everything!

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  5. I never had to sign anything, but I do try to be a little careful. Most of the people immediately around me at work read my blog, but not my supervisor....he would probably say fired to me in a way that meant I no longer had a job.
    That would be a mixed blessing actually.
    Good luck to you! Remember, if you are going to say a child is fat, make sure to talk about how you are way fatter first.
    Not you personally, I'm not saying your fat...you know that, right?
    Because I'm way fatter...

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    1. RE: fat

      why do you think the pic of me on my blog is a cartoon? because I am not quite the same size I was in junior high. *sigh*

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  6. Have so much fun with this! Great hours!

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    1. thanks, Gina! and thanks for being a new reader, glad you're here! (unless this was the Gina that followed my blog from a year and a half ago, and in that case, thanks for being such a loyal and devoted follower all that time!)

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  7. Replies
    1. thanks Skwishee! (and I have been meaning to tell you that I love your name, Skwishee, because it makes me think of throwing a shiny penny into a big gurgling fountain to get my wish-- most likely because your name has "wish" smack dab in the middle of it? and then if you take the remaining letters, Sk and ee, and put them together, voilà-- Skee! Nice!)

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  8. Yep...I occassionally write about school, but I am VERY careful. The names are changed, the school is changed....heck, I could be making the whole thing up.

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    1. you are right, kirby. I promise to be careful. You know what, I will just say right now that anything I write that is school-related is ALL FICTION. There, all better. :)

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  9. FUN!!! Now jump through that loophole, and start typin some stories. About 'you' ;) of course!!!

    Congratulations Mrs. MOV! First a Pulitzer Prize Winner (future), Mother of the Year, and now, perhaps, Teacher (sub) of the Year!!!!

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    1. *blushing*

      Thanks, J.R.!!!! (and my real life initials before I got married were J.R.-- so by the way, who shot us? was it Bobby or all just a dream? Dang, that was my favorite show. I was maybe 10. No, I mean 2. Heck, I wasn't even born yet!)

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When you write a comment, it makes me feel like I won the lottery or at the very least like I ate an ice-cream sundae. (This has nothing to do with the fact that I did just eat an ice-cream sundae.)