“Oh. I just meant, like, sign your name.”
— Kid, after I wrote a very personal, thoughtful paragraph when he asked me to sign his yearbook.
Tag Archives: teaching
Maybe We Don’t Always Need to Teach Them to Speak Up
A former student enters my room, walks over to me, and sheepishly mumbles something…
Me: “Honey, I can’t hear a word you’re saying. Speak up!”
Kid: <steps closer and mumbles again>
Me: “I would love to help you but I cannot hear you! Louder!”
Kid: <more mumbling>
Me: “What?!”
Kid: “DO YOU HAVE A MAXI PAD?”
Oh. Shit.
He’s the Best Person To Complain To
Me (frustrated and annoyed): “This kid I’m tutoring is being extremely difficult and disrespectful. He is obsessed with talking about poop. OBSESSED. Finally I told him that if he doesn’t stop, I’m not going to tutor him anymore. And right after I said that, I took out a book and asked him to read the word ‘wanted.’ He looked at me, looked at the word, smiled and said ‘poop.’ I nearly lost it.”
(Long pause)
Eric: “I like him!”
June– It’s Not Good
Everyone I know, to me: “It’s June! You’re, like, DONE! You must be so happy!”
No.
Fucking, just, no. No, no, no.
I’m sure this is very difficult for non-teachers to understand, but June is actually one of the worst months of the year in our profession. June carries with it a very specific, very potent, very excruciating kind of misery that is like the 3rd cousin of, but not directly related to, the general misery that permeates months September through May.
The kids are OUT. OF. CONTROL. The end-of-year housekeeping tasks are never ending and mind-numbingly dull. Administration is in a state of perpetual pissed-off. The building is 972 degrees, whether it’s a cool or hot day outside. Makes no difference. Heat and humidity of any kind gets trapped, it rises, the air conditioner breaks (if it even worked in the first place), and suddenly you feel as though you are trapped on the E-train platform in the dead of August. Surrounded by other people’s sweaty, prepubescent children. For 8 hours straight.
It’s not good.
So please. I know you all mean well, but save the “You’re done! You must be so happy!” for June 28th, 3:01pm, and not a moment before (or 3:10pm if you want a particularly animated response, as I’ll be 7 shots deep by then).
Because here’s what’s happening now:
(15 minutes later….)
Final June
(Part of the #june series)
“I hope you aren’t here to observe me. Because nothing good is happening in here.”
— me, to my assistant principal, when he walked into my room as my students were coloring and singing.
#finaljune
(Taking #june to a whole new level)
Hello? Is Anybody Listening?
Last time I look to this crowd for a pat on the back.
(Insert hours of absolute dead radio silence)
The Staff Bathroom
The first time this happened to me, there was no sign. Please don’t underestimate the sound, vibration, and fury of this “huge rattling.” I was certain one of the following scenarios was occurring:
1) My worst childhood fear is coming true– Jaws has found a way to exist in the toilet, and the flush is his attack signal.
2) Zombie apocalypse: attack of the pipe people.
3) I’m hallucinating. Things like this don’t happen to educated professionals at their place of employment. Did I take my meds today?
4) This “bathroom” is, as I’ve always suspected, a torture chamber for serial killers, designed to implode after any sudden movements.
5) I’ve done it. I’ve angered God.
But no. Turns out we just work in a dilapidated shithole that probably once housed zoo animals.
So…phew? 
Ivy League
Kid: “Miss Emily, where did you go to college?”
Me: “University of Pennsylvania.”
Kid: “WOW! I bet that’s like one of the best colleges…”
Me (interrupting): “It is!”
Kid: “…in ALL of Pennsylvania!”
Maturity
Referring to a classroom activity…
Ok, so. NOT something boys grow out of.
Transpondster
“Trump said ‘bigly.’ That doesn’t even make sense. How can he be president if he doesn’t make sense?” — 4th grader
Kid, I ask myself that every damn day.
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