I have already failed.
I knew it would be difficult. I'm going against the tide of dedicated teachers doing their darndest everyday. I'm fighting my own internal struggle between respecting myself and my work and feeling like I'm not measuring up. Like I'm not doing the best job I can. For the kids.
Sigh.
I knew it would be difficult, but I didn't fully appreciate the extent to which the powers that be make it difficult. My first inkling was when I (cheated and) checked my email over the summer and saw the schedule for staff week. Hours-long training sessions almost everyday. Since I have a specialized role, nearly none of these apply to me. But I suspect that even classroom teachers don't find every second of this training relevant. This happens every year, at every school. We are given just a week to prepare for the first day of school, and then it is summarily taken away. But the building will be open a few weeks before school starts for anyone who wants to come in and get an early start! The underlying message is that if you really want to be prepared for your students on the first day, you need to come in over the summer and work for free.
As I walked the halls today, I saw bulletin board masterpieces around every corner. It filled me with joy because they were stunning and I couldn't wait for the kids to see them. But I also felt a pang of sadness--those gorgeous creations were provided pro bono by undercompensated teachers--and a twinge of guilt; my walls were bare.
When 3:00 rolled around, I talked myself into staying another half hour. I'm in the middle of something. It'll mean less work on Monday. Thirty minutes isn't a big deal. It ended up being forty. And in my scattered state, I had forgotten I was supposed to meet someone at four. I was 15 minutes late. If I'd stuck to the plan, I would have made it on time. Not great for my first day.