Teaching: An Act of Survival

Today is Shakespeare's birthday and reportedly the day he died. How old would he be now??? And would he still be able to come up with all kinds of original plays??

I just came back from a delightful run around Margaret Island surrounded by the sparkling Danube and my mind is racing.

Many people wonder why one runs for fun. I have a few reasons, but the one I'd like to elaborate on now is that it allows not only my body to move, but my mind as well. My thoughts travel to places all over the board, giving me new ideas. And when you've just finished running, you feel good about yourself and are more willing to try out new ideas...especially when it comes to teaching.

Today I was Ms. Meanhead for lack of a more profane term. Maybe I did it for Shakespeare, or maybe I just did it for myself. For my survival.

I cared once. And now, I just don't. I've been a teacher for almost three years now and I've never not cared this much. Over the months, I've come to know myself as a teacher and now I can confidently tell you that I just don't have the patience for middle school children who are "waaaaay too cool for school." For one, I'd just like to know what makes them so cool that they can transcend every lesson.

Those I care for are those who want to learn. Yes, this is probably what many teachers will say. But there are many teachers out there who can find a way to teach all kinds of children and come out successful. I don't know how they do it and I'm in awe of those individuals.

Getting back to not caring. There wasn't an official day I'd say that I stopped caring cold turkey. It happened gradually, like a lot of things of this nature end. And let me make it clear: I still care about teaching and future students that I'll have, but I've stopped caring about the school I'm at now.

I got sick of coming home and running out my anger, anger at myself for not being more strict in class and letting kids walk over me.

Today I was pissed off and mean and yelled and pointed and stared down children and insulted them in reallyfastEnglish, ordered them out in the hall, up to the teacher's room and gave out tests.

Today, I didn't have any anger to run off. Instead, my run was pleasant. I didn't think about school and how I want to throw Vivien's god**&%$ mobile phone out the window. I didn't think about tearing Eszter's MP3 player out of her ears and into the trash bin. I didn't think about my incompetent contact teacher. And I didn't think about kids trying to get under my skin.

I thought about the things in my life right now that make me happy and enjoyed the extra warm April afternoon, even though it's probably a little warmer than usual due to global warming.

Now, I'm not saying that what I'm doing in the classroom is right, but it worked for me today and that's what teaching is all about. Finding something that works to survive.

If these kids only knew that I'm learning so much more than they are.

But then again, they probably would rather brush their hair or pretend they're doing cocaine with candy powder instead.