Teaching is such a weird gig. Some days, it runs like clockwork. Other days, it’s sucky. Most days, it’s in between, but for no rhyme or reason on any of the days.
Kids were ignoring me today. I can’t blame a few of them, for I was talking about a book they haven’t read, or are going to read. I don’t serve a big purpose when I don’t offer anything–that’s just teaching 101. Totally get it.
Now, there might be some of you out there that thinks the above paragraph is strange. Kids shouldn’t ignore a teacher, you think. No, really, when the class is reading a book and some aren’t, some kids tend to ignore, and talk, and turn their backs. Usually the class snaps things back into a semblance of order, but not today. Oh well. Day 171 and that’s the first time I’ve raised my voice (diction) at a class for their behavior. Ahead of the game, they say.
Four kids, but one apologized. Another laughed. Once again, lucky to get one, they think. Whatever. In teaching, it all has to happen again tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after. I see those kids for seven more days. My guess is that we’ll survive.
One of my regrets at the end of the year is that I’m not like other teachers. Okay, it’s not a regret, but when my students have nothing to say, I don’t want to hear them yakking about the cool things they’ve seen on their phones. It’s the tough rub of English teacher–do you want your kids to read in class, feed them info that they spit back at you, and create an atmosphere that requires docile behavior that asks a question not understood on the latest study sheet that you gave out 20 years ago?
Doubtful.
But the salon of English majors, the Algonquin table of wit and humor, hasn’t happened either. Somewhere in between is the give and take, and I can’t do that. There have been classes where this has happened, where my students and I could talk on numerous topics about books and all things English for an entire period (I see you, former 6th period sophomores in 2013).
One of my best days in teaching–EVER–was when I taught regular old seniors in 2006. I was the same then because I always wanted students to reach their potentials and keep trying. You’d be amazed at what happens when you keep trying. Anyway, the end of the year brought senior projects, where students completed some culminating project that pretty much followed a passion of theirs. It was light years ahead of its time, since all teachers to that now.
That day, my fifth period had the Black Box theater, and our class went over to see what was in store. We even had some other rogue seniors join us for the period, ones that were walking around campus after lunch. First off, one student played the role of MC, and opened the show by introducing himself and rapping for about 15 minutes. He was a very likeable dude, so kids loved it. After his bit, he introduced a band comprised of kids from fifth period. They plugged in and rocked for the whole period, being clever enough to include some of my catch phrases into their music. A whole period of music and fun. It was never out of control, students had a blast, and my faith in humanity was restored. Really, those who missed out, missed out.
Sixth period rolled around after, I went back to my room on a high. I felt like the greatest teacher ever, that I had inspired these kids to go above and beyond. My sixth period reminded me of the reality that is my job. Three students were scheduled to give their presentations, and all three did not and chose to take the F.
Give and take. I laugh at my hubris, as if I had teaching figured out in 2006. It’s 11 years later and I’m still typing. Hilarious.