Saturday, December 12, 2009


I feel like I should tell you something about my life lately.

We had a field-trip the other day. 90 kids, 5 teachers, driving all over the city in 3 different trolleys. It was WAY harder than teaching.

I yelled at my 7th period. Like heart beating out of my chest yelled. I've never yelled like that at kids before (and I've seen my fair share of teacher's worst nightmare). Near the end sweet little Malik raised his hand and asked why I kept using the word "idiots." Oops.

I'm so sick of grading papers that I haven't even looked at the last pile of essays I collected.

But truth be told, I love my job. I teach 13-year-olds smart enough to reference 1984, not just Twilight. They share insights like "I think Communism starts out as a good thing, a good idea you know? It's just poorly executed." Or how about the girl who raised her hand to tell us her great-grandfather died in the Russian prison camps because he would not support Stalin's movement. 1 of 7 million to die before WWII even started.

I told them I made more money as a waitress at Golden Corral than I do as a teacher. They were shocked. And when they asked me why I didn't do that instead, I just looked at all their eager eyes and said "I stunk when I went home. My feet hurt. I had to work nights and on weekends, but mostly . . . I've just always wanted this job. I dreamed about being teacher because I knew I couldn't work with adults all day."

LaNae thought that was a pretty good answer.

1 comment:

Mom and Dad Bassett said...

Oops indeed! Better watch that potty mouth of yours...

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