Teacher Dreams


I have been out of school for more than a week now.

Ten days away from the kids.  The twenty-five kids who held my attention for ten months.

Ten days away from the pressure, away from the noise, away from correcting, lunch tickets, handouts, “line up quietly, please.”  Ten whole days without saying, “If you can hear my voice, clap once.”

You would think that by now my dreams would have turned away from the classroom, wouldn’t you?

Last night I had one of those confusing, stressful teacher dreams.   I was at our school (only it looked bigger, and darker, as places so often do in dreams).  I was trying to organize some kind of big event or party for the students. Various people wandered in and out of my dream (as often happens, at least to me!!).  My Mom was there at one point, as were my sons.

I felt anxious, a little unprepared.  As the dream went on, I was desperately trying to find and corral all of my students.  There were other kids rushing around the building, and I kept checking on them all.  “That one is mine!” I would say in my dream voice, as I recognized a familiar face.

Suddenly, I was on the phone with a local restaurant, telling them that I needed to order “One hundred gallons of clam chowder.” (Seriously?! At the time, in the dreamworld, this didn’t seem at all bizarre.)  I put in the order, and then realized that I couldn’t go out to pick up the food and leave my kids unsupervised. I turned around and my daughter Kate was standing there.  She teaches in our building, so this was not so strange.  I sent her off to get the chowder “and some hot coffee”.  Then I ran around, through the big, dark building, gathering my students together.

And this is where the dream gets fun.  This is the part that any decent psychologist would enjoy analyzing.  Listen to this.

I stood in the hallway, outside of the gym.  There were hundreds of kids running around in the gym itself, playing basketball, dek hockey and other games.  My friend Susan (who retired about 6 years ago) was there, and I assumed that some of the kids belonged to her.  As one of “mine” would race by, I would tap him or her on the shoulder with a long, flexible, feathered wand, and he or she would race out the door and stand beside me.  “Pablo!” tag

“Beka!” tag

“Mike!” tag

As the group around me grew, the building got lighter.  My old principal, a much beloved figure, appeared in the hall, smiling and happy that we were all there.  He retired eleven years ago, but I miss him and his gentle guidance to this day.  My mood rose as I turned to see him.

And in the door came Kate, her arms full of donut boxes.

I frowned.  “Where is the chowder?”

“It wasn’t ready.”, she shrugged. “So I brought donuts.”

And I rolled over and woke up.   What do you think THAT means?

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4 responses to this post.

  1. Love this. I have so many bizarre teacher dreams–mostly nightmares. Glad to know I’m not alone!

    Reply

  2. Englishteacher: that was a great post!! I am still laughing. I have had those very same dreams!

    Reply

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