All good, bad and ugly things must come to an end.
My teaching career ended yesterday with a slam. A body-slam, that is. Four of my more rambunctious students spent the last fifteen minutes of class demonstrating a coordinated imitation of WWF wresting, down to the homoerotic holds, the coordinated slapping-off to demonstrate partner-shifting, and the melodramatic body slams. I almost cried, I was laughing so hard (and I prayed very loudly that no one get hurt).
And that was the end. There was no, "Miss, you've changed my life" or "Miss, I'm never going to give up thanks to you." There were lots of "I'll miss you this summer"s and hugs, and smiles, and grins at the funny awards I gave out (including the "stop beastin'" award, the "it's cause i'm black" award, and the "fashionably late" award).
Anticlimactic, to say the least, though we did play a killer game of bingo which demonstrated that they'd learned something. And some of my special kids really have ...for lack of a better word, blossomed this year. I even cried last night at the thought of one particularly adorable freshman whom I might not see again.
But the hijinx at my school remain the same. I arrived headachy this morning to a day of being a "reserve" proctor, and discovered five minutes before the global history exam that I was needed to cover a room. Of course, this was conveyed to me via a nasty announcement on the loudspeaker that I was ten minutes late. Late to what, might I ask? My psychic appointment?
None of the kids in my test room had pencils; and after I was "relieved" no one knew where i was supposed to be, and so i spent a good three hours post-proctoring sitting in a classroom I knew to be testing=free, watching an interview with Paul Krugman online and gmail chatting shook with the repeated 'I am borrrrreeeed".
Also, Frantic, my co-teacher, took amazing pictures of the whole department. In my classroom, the kids posed adorably, but with their hats and do-rags on (what did I care, they took them off after the photo sesh was over?) and this message was relayed to Frantic from an administrator:
>Also, you especially don't want to post pictures of kids wearing hats and
>dew-rags [sic]. It appears that [our school] is lax in following this rule in the
>classroom. While there might be some laxness [sic] in the halls due to the shear >[sic]volume of kids and the minimal number of adults, there should be zero
>laxness of this rule [uhhh...laxness(?) OF this rule?] in your class [actually it was Ms. Fellow-ette's class. Sorry, buddy]. >
Speaks for itself, no?
It looks like my career as a freelance writer might be taking off (slowly) in the near future. If so, what are my readerships' recommendations? What should I do with this blog?
I await responses eagerly.
And that was the end. There was no, "Miss, you've changed my life" or "Miss, I'm never going to give up thanks to you." There were lots of "I'll miss you this summer"s and hugs, and smiles, and grins at the funny awards I gave out (including the "stop beastin'" award, the "it's cause i'm black" award, and the "fashionably late" award).
Anticlimactic, to say the least, though we did play a killer game of bingo which demonstrated that they'd learned something. And some of my special kids really have ...for lack of a better word, blossomed this year. I even cried last night at the thought of one particularly adorable freshman whom I might not see again.
But the hijinx at my school remain the same. I arrived headachy this morning to a day of being a "reserve" proctor, and discovered five minutes before the global history exam that I was needed to cover a room. Of course, this was conveyed to me via a nasty announcement on the loudspeaker that I was ten minutes late. Late to what, might I ask? My psychic appointment?
None of the kids in my test room had pencils; and after I was "relieved" no one knew where i was supposed to be, and so i spent a good three hours post-proctoring sitting in a classroom I knew to be testing=free, watching an interview with Paul Krugman online and gmail chatting shook with the repeated 'I am borrrrreeeed".
Also, Frantic, my co-teacher, took amazing pictures of the whole department. In my classroom, the kids posed adorably, but with their hats and do-rags on (what did I care, they took them off after the photo sesh was over?) and this message was relayed to Frantic from an administrator:
>Also, you especially don't want to post pictures of kids wearing hats and
>dew-rags [sic]. It appears that [our school] is lax in following this rule in the
>classroom. While there might be some laxness [sic] in the halls due to the shear >[sic]volume of kids and the minimal number of adults, there should be zero
>laxness of this rule [uhhh...laxness(?) OF this rule?] in your class [actually it was Ms. Fellow-ette's class. Sorry, buddy]. >
Speaks for itself, no?
It looks like my career as a freelance writer might be taking off (slowly) in the near future. If so, what are my readerships' recommendations? What should I do with this blog?
I await responses eagerly.
Labels: Teaching from the trenches
posted by SarahMarian at 6:33 PM
4 Comments:
Those awards are awesome. I could give out the exact same ones (but I won't, 'cause that'd make them less awesome).
I found your blog through fellow forum. I am starting as a spanish teacher this coming fall and I think your blog is hilarious. Thanks for all your insite (j/k: insight)
turn it into a book!
Just discovered your blog. I'm a new NYCTF and need to know the best prep for the CST all- subject. Passed the LAST and took the ATS-W (elementary). I'm already a sub at 2 schools in Chinatown.
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