Today, probably yesterday when I post, was not the best. Part of the reason this is keeping me up tonight is because it just really could have been. The best, that is.
My first period went just horribly. [update: rest of paragraph deleted]
It was just mayhem and unpleasant and I don't really want to talk about it... but my brain keeps whispering, wanting to know if I should do this tomorrow, or perhaps do that. My brain is mad that [update: rest of paragraph deleted]
Since every teacher here gets called a racist eventually (usually for assigning homework or asking someone to be quiet), I don't want to be part of the name-calling problem. It's probably just a coincidence. No, really. It probably is. I only mention it because, damn, it does seem weird.
What I should focus on is how ENGAGED (note my edumacationalese word) every other class was with this lesson. Even the mess that used to be fourth period. Everyone except for [update: most of this paragraph deleted] And even he started working at the end, when I forsook all other students to sit by him and help his grinning face.
Sure, fourth period was noisy and chaotic, as always, but they were working. One girl even said, "We're your most improved class, aren't we miss? I think we're realizing we need to get serious and everyone is working now." I wanted to hug her. (But, of course, would never ever touch a student. I apologize profusely when our clothing touches as a I scooch around them.) I told her and others at the table that, yes, I was really impressed and yes, I sure had noticed how hard they were working. I said things weren't perfect, but that we were just getting better and better and I was really proud of them. I pointed out specific things with the poetry work that had caught my attention as being especially nice or skilled. They ate it up with spoons. And then they continued to work their rears off. It was beautiful.
That's what should have had me in jubilant skips today. Not [update: rest of paragraph deleted]
Me: (one on one, calmly) [update: rest of paragraph deleted]
Her: (putting on the full blast 'tude/'casm) [update: rest of paragraph deleted]
Me: (beat) "What was that?"
Her: (defiant) [update: dialogue deleted] (arms crossed, head nods with the total solution of it all)
(I didn't get into it with her, but despite several angles of approach, she just wanted me to [update: rest of paragraph deleted])
The blisteringly unfair thing is that I don't shout. Kids always tell me I don't shout. "Miss, even when you're mad, you don't shout." (Not totally true - I semi-shout at the class once in awhile to zip it and get to work, that kind of thing, but no, I don't shout at individuals. C'mon, I'm the "too nice" teacher. I don't shout. I should shout. But I can't do it well. So I don't.)
In this case I raised my voice slightly at one point and the noise of the room melted away as people realized someone was in trouble, at which point I lowered my voice to keep the conversation one-on-one [update: rest of paragraph deleted]
That exchange above is the least aggressive/rude thing she said. The main referral had already been written at that point. This was nothing compared to her telling me repeatedly to [update: middle of paragraph deleted] All of which was documented. And now she will miss my class - just my class - for one day. No parent conference (usually the least that people get). Just a vacation from me.
Whatever.
[update: entire paragraph deleted]
I could get over this. I could think about how I will sort this out, and I have plenty of ideas, so there's hope. Tomorrow will be a better day.
Except that silly brain, it won't shut up. Determined to make me feel bad and exhausted and used up, it now wants to pester me about how, sure, everyone was working hard today, really genuinely hard, but because it was noisy, I would've been in a bad place if it was an observation day. Never mind that part of the noise was people helping each other or just blowing off steam, shooting ideas around, because it's hard to write poetry on demand, it just wouldn't look right to someone who hasn't been in the class the whole time.
I hate modern teaching. I mean, "teaching."
Transfers for next year start on Monday.
Damnit, if not for some people with their cultural misconduct (a term I shouldn't expand upon unless I'm sure I want to delete this post, but I do like the phrase), this would've been a GOOD week. Every single day I've been doing so much one-on-one teaching and overall the students are getting SO MUCH done. There are A's where I've never seen A's before, and those A's are (pretty) real! I should be delighted! It's far from perfect, but most people are learning every day in every class, even people with straight Fs on their reports cards last semester, and I'd be a fool to not bask in this.
But the fool on the hill, sees the sun going down, and the eyes in her head, see the world spinning around.
ytou know, that sounds suspiciously like a few days I've had, too.
Hang in there. June's a-comin'.
Posted by: heather in pa | 08 February 2008 at 07:17 PM