Why Teaching Wears One Out Physically

Right now, we're studying The Declaration of Independence, which is, like, the most thrilling literary work of all time.  MY students come into class with smiling faces and joyous hearts.  They race through the hallways for the chance to be the first student to read aloud.  Then, we all skip across rainbows and play kumbaya on our various musical intruments made by woodland creatures.  I call tombourine.

In reality, the best part of studying The Declaration is that they're writing their own.  One class chose to write theirs declaring their freedom from Michelle Obama's tyrannical control of cafeteria food (WE WANT SALT AND WHITE BREAD!), while the other class (We the people of the class of Glass) declared freedom from the rules of school.  Apparently they think high school would be more fun if tights were considered real pants.  Heads up students- they're not considered real pants in the real world, either.  The other class is studying The Scarlet Letter.  Which makes me so happy.  I love it.  They kind of hate me, too.  It's a theme.

I have had parental run-in number two, and, let me tell you, they're the MOST fun I've ever had.

To my knowledge, I have had two rumors circulate about me.  One-  The office made me change out of a pair of neon yellow heels.  I never got to the bottom of this rumor in order to figure out WHY the office would ban me from wearing neon yellow heels, but I'll bet the high school rumor mill turned out a pretty good story about it.  Two-  Apparently the fact that my camera's battery killed itself mid-organization pictures today makes me unfit to run yearbook in the eyes of some of my more talkative students.  Well, guess what, talkative students.  I had one of my yearbook/well-behaved students taking back up pictures the whole time, so, uh, yeah, I think I've got this under control.  But thanks for your concern.  Judgey

My students say ridiculous things.  I always knew high schoolers said ridiculous things, mainly because I was always one in the back trying to be quietly witty about how ridiculous everyone else was being.  But, in the last three days, I have, as a direct response to ridiculous high school conversations, had to say, "No, I will not accept bloodthirst as an emotion," "I'm pretty shocked at the amount of tickle-fighting this class does, and I'm not sure whether it's better or worse that most of it 'happens in public,'" "If you want to have a cry party, go back to Canada," and, "Yeah, if she's pregnant, the mosh pit probably isn't the best place for her."

As far as personal growth goes... I have had none.  I'm still a self-righteous angeraholic.  I still let people and their attitudes change my day.  I still let the fact that my last class of the day is so entertaining muddle my opinions of them. I'm working on these things.  I'm working on not wanting to scream every time someone who is a co-worker thinks I'm a student.  I'm trying to learn to not become overwhelmed so easily.  I'm trying to learn how to teach and also live my life.

I'm just trying to teach my lessons.