Tiring

Teaching is tiring.
Fridays don’t make that any easier. My Friday started last night when a student sent me the registration sheet for next year, complete with a glaring error for APN. That is not tiring, but tiresome–errors that just magically appear for the class I teach. It’s no big deal to kids who know to use the class code, but there is conflicting information about said code. Whatever.
It was hot today, or at least I was. It made it hard for the push against, push against, push against crowd that doesn’t desire working. Yeah, I know I have to be better and push back and encourage that everyone should read a poem that won’t matter for a minute in their lives, but that’s the part that gets tiring. Friday. Hot. Pushing against me.
I made it through. So did my students.
Oh, I also got to counsel them on their class choices for next year. “Should I really take AP Language next year?” they ask. “Yeah,” I say. “You got an A in my class and you’re worried about what?” They say, “Well, who is the teacher going to be?” Push push push. Okay, don’t take the class. Go back to regular English.
Tiring.
The easy assignment this week was to try something new. I ask students to do it every other week, or so. Try something new–expand those horizons. Setup and delivery. WHY did you want to try this particular new thing? and, HOW did it go? Toughie.
Students complain about this assignment. Tiring. Maybe some Seattle punk rock will snap me out of it.