You know, I meant to write about my day today. However, I stayed at school until 7 pm using the copy machine (which started acting weird, so I tried to fix it, but ended leaving after a bunch of error messages appeared - don’t tell!), rearranging desks, straightening up, unwrapping a bookcase and globe and dictionaries I don’t need. Then I headed downtown and ate a sandwich. I talked to some people I love and tried to call a parent of a student I do not love.
Now it’s midnight, and I’m exhausted. My day was okay. The same kids were disruptive. I wouldn’t mind if Robert suddenly exploded one day into a million gooey, immature, pieces…as long as I don’t have to clean them up. Raheem started out bad, stayed that way, but was delightfully human when we had our chat in the schoolyard. He looked me in the eyes and everything. Be ashamed, Raheem, very ashamed! Bryant didn’t get a Metrocard for transportation to and from school, and nearly started crying, because he lives somewhere in the Bronx. I gave him $2 to ride home, but I still felt terrible. He doesn’t get any money to buy school lunch during the day, and he said his parents won’t or can’t buy him anything to take to school for lunch. Now he might have an issue getting to school and back each day, too. I don’t feel that he’s the kind of kid who would manipulate my emotions, unlike some of my kids who try to win the white teacher’s sympathy by saying they are poor, black ghetto-children living on the streets, etc. Some of my poorest kids wear Jordans, and perhaps their parents have seriously warped priorities, but no one is currently homeless.
Many new teachers are as or more upset as me about the current conditions in my school. Homeroom teachers are still babysitting their classes all day with no normal class schedules in sight. I was relieved twice today by the legal studies teacher, a nice albeit way too talkative man, and a Spanish teacher who has absolutely no control over the class. I want more of a break. Because I’m very open about my concerns with classroom management, I spend my off-periods getting advice from some nice veteran administrators. Mostly a lot of “wait and see’s,” “be firm’s,” and “you can’t treat these kids the way the books tell you to/you were raised.” I will admit that nothing I ever learned in my UTeach education concerning classroom management prepared me for the population I teach. I am respectful, but are all of my students the same way? No. I can’t phrase things in a nice way to make all students think they have choices, and are thus, more empowered as learners. Some students refuse to do anything I ask or tell them to do. There’s so much apathy and histrionics here. Students are whiny and act like victims, tell me I’m not fair, tell me I’m mean, scream slews of curse words… Every day is a trying day. I feel like I work in a psych ward sometimes.
Somehow, I feel okay tonight. No one has punched me during a fight, like they did another teacher. I’m not teaching too many subjects I’m uncertified in. (Because I don’t really have a normal schedule, I pretty much treat all day like Language Arts class. That’s fun for now). I don’t teach a bunch of angry, violent special ed students. Or do I?
Most of all, best of all, I am not reproductively responsible for any of the students in room 108. Don’t blame me!
I could click my horrible-what-was-I-thinking-wearing-these-to-school two-inch heels when the doors to the schoolyard open. I see open sky, freedom. Their apartments. The ones they are going to…far away from me. Do hurry home now, students! My heavy, aching feet just got lighter.
