Managed Chaos

So I've been working...a lot. Like 70-80 hours each week by my guesstimation. While I'm not punching a time clock, I can count the hours I'm at school, grading quarter-end projects before report cards are printed, creating lesson plans, scheduling parent conferences, driving shuttle, handling driver issues, or scheduling driving shifts.

It's a lot.

September flew by. Until a week ago, I hadn't had a day off since mid-August, resulting in that hitting-the-wall kind of feeling last Saturday while working check-ins at Bright Angel Lodge.

I called the BossMan-Owner and said I needed a day...just Sunday. By Monday morning, I felt recalibrated, reoriented, and ready to take on the world.

And ...the sixth graders handed me a world full of after-lunch chaos. They are, by far, the most behaviour-challenged group I have to deal with because of the wiggles and chatter.

So it's been back-and-forth from chaos to chaos, riding the waves of both these storm-tossed jobs. But stuff's going to slow down real soon with the end of canyon hiking season and fall break at school. Stuff will change. It always does.

I'll miss the end of the shuttle driving season.

I get these amazing views while being paid to do a job.

Sometimes nature surprises with the momentary glory of the sun's light in a unique way, like with the way sunset shines through this burst of rain over the Navajo reservation.

On the teaching job, this is my view ...

Ducks.

At the height of learning how to deal with middle-school-classroom disruptions in 2024, I started aligning the ducks between my conversation rocks.

A student noticed them between the rocks and asked why I had them there.

"They're going through a slot canyon," I said. The real reason was because my desk was a mess and I didn't want to keep setting them upright as some kind of visible signal that my ducks truly are "in a row."

(This was around the same time I was called into the principle's office for insubordination in not following through on a classroom observation. On my defense, there was no deadline given, and only seven days had passed.)

Then, a seventh-grader made some origami frogs and gave me three.

For about ten days, the frogs followed the ducks. The ducks, however, were oblivious to being followed.

Then a fourth frog showed up when the ducks were in Triangle Plateau. This frog boldly made itself known.

"What are they talking about?" A sixth grader asked.

"I don't know. It's too loud in here. I can't hear them." That was during group project. They were supposed to be talking, but not that loud.

"Waterfall....shhhhh!" I speak into the room wiggling my fingers in a downward motion to mimic a waterfall.

The students quickly catch on, mimicking the waterfall and wiggling their fingers. Soon the room is quiet. (That's one of the tricks I learned in the observation session. There are others, but that's my favorite.)

The ducks.

The students connect over this story of the ducks. Shy students...and the noisy ones, too ...ask what's happening in duck-world on an almost-daily basis.

I just keep bringing in different rocks from my collection and reconfiguring the set up.

Recently, two origami butterflies ended up at Triangle Plateau.

Now all the ducks, the four frogs, and the two butterflies travel onward together on a bright and illustrious journey.

What do you think? Time to add an antagonist? :)

But for now...at this hour on a Sunday night...it is time to settle in. The story will reveal itself soon enough.