Archeology

It's been an interesting week.

The site has been neglected for a really long time. The tops of the carts (all two of them, both unsuited for their purposes but we're stuck with them for now at least) were covered with a nice layer of grime. I'm digging through archeological layers in the main room, in the back room, on the tops of surfaces and Oh.My.GOD... the bulletin board. My main bulletin board looked like crap. Construction paper clouds and a ton of information that doesn't need to be posted. Takes up space and keeps it from being used for something a little more eye-catching. I decided to take down what was there on Friday and replace it.

Apparently no one else has ever thought of that concept. Replace, yes. But take down what was already there? What an odd concept!

There were TWELVE layers of paper. And approximately eight thousand staples. Many of the layers weren't bulletin board paper at all but were made up of squares of construction paper instead. Someone who really, really loved staples, or a series of people who loved staples, stapled the holy fuck out of all those pieces of paper. And every little embellishment underneath.

Colin eagerly volunteered to help me put the paper in a box and dispose of it. I had to tell him no, it wasn't safe. The back of the stuff I pulled down was studded every two inches with eight or nine or 29 staples. I scratched my hand. Immediately it swelled up and started itching horribly. I punctured my little finger near the edge of the nail, and that's all swollen and red today, too.

Because it was my first week and I was exhausted, of course Billy was picked up late. His dad was inclined to just stay all evening, talking to his son about what he was doing here, what was going on there... so I pulled out the vacuum (lots of those damn staples ended up on the carpet) and said, "Hurry up Buddy, it's about to get noisy in here."

I didn't think it was rude since the parent had showed up late in the first place. But I didn't end up getting out of there until 6:30. My vacuum needs help. Wheels need replacing. It's falling apart, just like everything else.

I had to go out to the main office on Thursday. I told my manager (who is nice but really, really young and really, really inexperienced) that one of the carts is not school-legal and I'd like a different cart. That a school district employee had come in and told me that it's a tipping hazard. I don't think it *will* tip, I suppose it is a hazard if someone were to climb on it, but they're elementary aged kids, not toddlers. And I don't see that happening. When I told her what had been said, she cluelessly said, "Well, can you put the toys in the back room?"

::headdesk:::

NO! The toys are supposed to be out and accessible to the kids. They need to be allowed to make choices by looking at what's available and deciding what they want to do.

I haven't been provided with anything but ancient castoffs, really. No one has visited my site to see how things are going. No one has asked me if I need anything or how I'm faring.

If I did not have so many toys and so many ideas and so much experience of my own, I'd already have decided that maybe this isn't the place for me.

The main office is a madhouse. They just got the supply orders in for the beginning of the year, and there is NO space for stuff. None. It's crammed in every corner with beanbag chairs and boxes of things and toys and markers and LEGO and so many other things that I can't even begin to tell you what's there. I had paperwork to turn in, things to pick up, snacks to grab, questions to ask. The way things are set up means you go to six different people with six different processes. One person does your time sheet. All on paper, no automation. Another one gets you a shirt or two. Someone else tells you yay or nay on certain supplies. All this in a row of cubicles, some smallish offices, a tiny hallway and a basement room filled with food. It's not even controlled chaos, it's just regular chaos.

I'm not complaining... I am sure once I figure things out a little, I will just do what I always do, handle my own issues. Go in, take care of business, leave. Stay at my own site as much as possible and make it a good place for children.

But seriously. What I wanted was a new (or used, hell, at this point I am not particular) cart. But I don't think my manager is much of a manager. She may get better at it, but my guess is that she will take the experience of being a 'manager', add it to her resumé and move on. She isn't awful, and not hateful and willfully nasty like Fluffy. She's a nice person, she's just clueless.

The large cart I currently have is double sided, but it's pretty big. The room is awkward, bulletin boards in inconvenient locations, a sink for handwashing that effectively blocks about a four foot wide swath of space, a bumpy and slanted floor and exits in odd places. I have the double sided cart against a wall and only one side is accessible because of it. If I can figure out a way to place that cart, I can use both sides of it and will dispose of the tipping hazard cart myself. I'm just not sure I can manage it. I have to have the kids in my sight at all times.

I have learned from Dane... he's been there four years, this is his fifth... that there is another little store room around the corner that belongs to my program. I went and checked it out. There is indeed. So I can put the things I'm not using and not sure I should throw away into that room and clear out a little space in the crammed-full-of-crap storage area that's right off my main room.

It's going to take a great deal of effort to get things running the way I want them. I've done a lot already.

I knew that starting over would be a pain in the ass. But even with all the crazy, it beats the hell out of dealing with Fluffy and the Cavalcade.