Usually the dreams involve a loss of control. I can’t find the school. I can’t find the classroom. I show up late. The students are crazy. I lose kids on a field trip.
(Wait. That one might be post traumatic stress disorder. I actually did leave two kids behind–at the top of the ski jump at the Calgary Olympics. The kids purposefully didn’t get on the elevator down. No one got hurt.)
Just last week I dreamt that I was driving to school when I realized that I had to give the graduation speech. I had nothing prepared, so I frantically started looking for paper and pen in the car. Unable to find anything but an old tinfoil pie plate and a nail, I started scratching out a message (please don’t send an analysis).
Anyhow, my good dream:
I arrived at school after summer holidays to see—could it be??—a brand new school. The architects had incorporated all my suggestions. I first noticed the huge covered playground. The students would be able to play outside when it was raining! The playground equipment was vividly coloured and creative. The landscaping was beautiful. Going inside the building, I noted the spacious lobby/lounge and plants. My “room” was now a series of rooms! First was the art room, a light-filled work space with tables and endless supplies. My classroom proper had smooth round wooden tables, big windows that opened, and an entire wall of books. Then came the viewing gallery with tiered seating and giant projector.
Suddenly, unexpectedly, all my students arrived! I immediately went into teacher mode, establishing routines. I was trying desperately to figure out how best to get students seated efficiently in the new gallery when my husband’s voice kept interrupting: “Twi! Twi! Time to get up!”
Emerging into reality, I slowly watched my new school vanish.
I was most sad to see that playground go. Never another inside day? That should have tipped me off.