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July 29, 2002
Mister. Mister! MISTER! (ALL teenage
Mister. Mister! MISTER! (ALL teenage student commentary, being of the UTMOST vital existence-ending importance, ends in an exclamation point)
-What?
Mister! I need to use the internet! I have a social studies project!
-What is it on?
Moo crackers!
-What?
MOO CRACKERS! (apparently I'm deaf, shouting logically will help him get his point across)
-Can you tell me what are moo crackers? Are they things? A group? A movement? Food items?
NO!!!! Moo crackers! MOO CRACKERS! (He's practically doing the potty dance)
-Can you write it for me? Mr. Family Name is a little deaf, I guess...
M-u-c-k-r-a-k-e-r-s
Some days, I feel like one of the movie teachers, inspiring kids to grasp something that five years of teachers couldn't get across to them. I jump around the class, the kids laugh at my terrible jokes, they finally grasp what multiplying two negative numbers really means, my lesson plan is a well oiled machine. When this student is president of the US, he'll have me present at the swearing-in ceremony, proclaiming a Mr. B day. Some days, this really happens. Some days.
Then there are the other days. My co-teacher is absent, it's her turn for a lesson plan, I don't have any info, and I'm not even legally allowed to be alone in the class with them until September. Yet I'm still teaching them, as my slacker supervisor can't find anyone else to teach them. I tell him I'm forbidden to teach alone, I could get fired. He just shrugs, tells me there is no other option. I suggest that I combine my class with another co-teaching pair, he refuses because they can't legally crowd that many kids in one class. But it's okay for a non-licensed person to teach alone in a class! First group, I wing it pretty successfully. The kids are all really weak on fractions, and I'm able to show them how to combine them logically. Heads are nodding in agreement, eyes are showing the glimmer of comprehension. Next class, same lesson, absolute disaster. By the end of class, two kids are throwing chairs, one girl is pressing her chest up to the window, broken pretzels and skittles litter the floor. I am the worst teacher in the world.
I have no idea about tomorrow.
Posted by G at July 29, 2002 08:57 PM