Feeling doovy

So, the topic today is about feeling dumb, but when I kept saying feeling dumb in my head, the song "Feeling Groovy kept repeating, so...we bring ourselves to the title of today's post.

So, I've been subbing a lot as an associate in the schools, which is great. Flexible work, you can say yes or no as you please, and you get a little extra cash. Plus, I enjoy it. Even if it's busy work like making copies, it makes you feel that you accomplished something at the end of the day. But the part I have enjoyed the most is working with the kids. I've worked both one on one with a 7th grader, as well as working in small groups with 3rd and 4th graders. But, here's the catch. You have to actually understand the material you are teaching them. Hence my struggle. For example,

"Mrs. Miller? I have to work with some other children on their math. Could you sit and work through some common denominator problems with these two?"

"Me: "Umm, excuse me, what? Common denominator? It sounds familiar but.... can we do a few more together to review?" Translation kill me now because I have no freakin' clue how to do that. 231 and 60-can you tell me what the highest common denominator is? And really, here's the million dollar question, asked by one of the students-Why do we have to do this? Will we ever use this? And WHAT do you say to that? Have you ever used that in your life? Do you know what she finally answered? Because I have to teach this to you so you have to learn it. Because that's what it really comes down to. But wait, there's more!

Who conquered the Aztecs? Or the Incas? And why can we not really say that Christopher Columbus 'discovered' America. (Umm, excuse me, what? We can't say that? I thought that's what we said?) And how are molds and casts different? Would a jellyfish make a mold or cast? Possessive nouns, commas, long multiplication by hand. Oh my goodness. Brain, why have you forsaken me?

The problem is this. I used to consider myself a smart person. Back when smart was all measured by grades and SAT scores. And setting the curve, and having your paper be the one put up on the overhead as an example of a good paper. And superior honor roll, and gifted and talented. It was all so measurable and because everyone else thought you were smart, and gee, the markers all said you were smart, TADA! You were smart. But then you go to college, where suddenly you are a very small fish in a very large pond, and there are lots of people, much smarter than you. And then, you are in the workforce, where it doesn't matter how well you can memorize facts for a test, but it's now about how well you can manage and execute and make creative and critical decisions, and now, how smart are you? But I still thought I could hold my own.

And then, I pushed out my brain with the afterbirth, or something of that nature when I had kids. And now here I am. And now I sit in bookclub while other women who have also given birth but still have retained some semblence of brainwave activity discuss how we should choose a women's liberation author such as x or y, and how the situation in this book is so similar to the situation going on in country z right now, and I sit drooling onto my paper plate of baby carrots and tortilla chips holding out my glass for another refill of sangria wondering when we'll talk about the important stuff like who Kim Kardashian is dating now. You know, something I can really participate in and of which I have greater knowledge. And I wonder, how did this happen to me? Please, don't look at me, I'm hideous.

I really don't know how to wrap this post up except that I've been feeling really doovy lately and I'm not sure what to do about it. Thanks for listening. And oh, will you pass the sangria?