I’m tired. I’m physically tired of working. My mind is numb during the times when I’m free. There are so many things spinning around and I’m just trying to focus on the things that matter. My dream when I came here was to teach literature. Now I’m teaching four, 45 minute periods every week, and I pour my heart into it and wonder if the students appreciate it. Then the rumors come back that my reading class is boring. I’ve never taught reading, I don’t know anything about the TOEFL exam, I’m just reading books and trying my best, and then the news comes that people don’t like the class. I don’t know what I should do. And then the pressure, to teach more, to go to the English Speaking Club, to start a new club for the teachers, to start movie night. Sometimes I just want to give it all up. I don’t know what I should be doing. I don’t know what’s right. I feel so tired. I’m giving away my energy by buckets and nothing is coming back. After teaching I walk away in a daze covered in sweat and chalk dust. There were no erasers in the classroom. The brand-new building has fans that don’t work. My room needs cleaned. I need to eat sometimes. Maybe this is just a bad time, but the more I think, the more I want to escape to somewhere else. I’ve been here for nearly a year now, and that’s a long time for me. Perhaps my restless spirit is telling me to move on again.


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