Hiya Kids,
Once upon a time I helped set the back of a classroom on fire. It’s true. We had a sub that day. She left in tears. Another time I somehow managed to gain early access to a dozen frogs meant for dissection, and cut off the majority of their amphibious fingers so that they gave double middle fingers to whoever saw them next. The person who stole all the maxi pads from the nurse’s office, dipped them in ketchup and shoved them under the door handles of numerous teachers’ cars? Yup, that was me too. What can I say, I was a kid. I feel bad about these things now (… well, not the frog bit. That shit’s still funny as hell), but I can’t do anything about it now.
I did plenty of bad things as a teenager. Some not as malicious as others, some downright mean, most of which I may even tell you about some day. But while I can’t change these actions any more than I can change the good deeds I’ve done, I can learn from them. Which is one of the reasons I went into education in the first place. It occurred to me some point well after leaving school that perhaps I acted the way I did because I wasn’t properly challenged or approached. This isn’t meant to justify my actions. I was a dick. Hell, I still am sometimes. I know this. But there’s a profound difference between a kid who’s simply just a dick and one who’s seeking reaction; one who’s a lost cause and one who’s actually potentially brilliant, just really bored. I see this every day in my classroom now.
Perhaps my teachers just didn’t know how to harness and help facilitate guiding my allegedly wild ways. Don’t get me wrong, I had some great teachers. Great teachers. Just apparently none that knew how to specifically help me. So that became the goal. Become the teacher I had never had. I figured how hard could it be? I was a bigger punk than any kids nowadays could ever dream of being (WRONG!), and I’ll always be at least two steps ahead of them (WRONGER!). And I could definitely understand them on a level most couldn’t (a residual symptom of that pesky puer aeternus affliction), and ultimately make them laugh or think in ways they never knew they could. Like I said, the teacher I never had. It was a foolproof plan.
So that’s exactly what I’ve done. In some ways I’ve succeeded, in many ways I haven’t, but there’s still a long road ahead. And as long as I’m in a classroom, my students will experience learning my way. The core curriculums and state tests and overall witch hunts can force us to adhere to a specific standard of results, but the journey there is all on me. It always will be. Therefore it’s mine to dictate. And I decree an experience the likes they’ll never forget. Because it isn’t their academic results that will ultimately define them, but how they ultimately define society. And that’s where my true success rate will reside. And it starts with me.
So that’s the plan. Be that teacher. The one they never had and always wanted. Create the fun, positive environment they’ll flourish in. Make jokes and references, even if they don’t always get them… and they usually won’t. Foster the learning, their style of engagement. Laugh. Earn their respect. Then, after the bell rings and they’re packing up and walking out with heads full of new-found knowledge and smiles on their faces, that’s when you secretly slide the ketchup-covered maxi pad into their backpacks.
I love my job.
Live, Love, Learn,
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