For the past nine months, I consistently asked myself why I put up with kids with horrible, disrespectful attitutes, smart-*ss remarks, threats to me and other teachers, children who would stab thier own family in the back if they had the chance, racist parents, some referring to the black counselor as Uncle Tom for siding with me, lots and lots of lying, State tests, endless paper work, meetings with the principle wanting to know why your scores aren't good enough, fights on the playground, walking into the boys bathroom to see kids peeing on each other while hanging upside down from the stalls, monitering cousins getting "too close", girls with more cleavage than I ever expect to have, taking a kid to the nurse who zipped his jacket to his eyelid, feeling hateful feelings towards children that I thought impossible, the vice-principle telling me that she doesnt know what to do about my discipline problems-just figure it out, and more whining than I could ever imagine.
Yesterday I realized my answer. As those kids drove away on the bus for the last time, I remembered why I became a teacher. Is it those wonderful learning moments when you realize you have instilled new knowledge into a young mind? Or maybe the understanding that you've effected a life for the better? Or maybe it's just knowing that you were the one positive, warm, loving, example in thier life.
No, these aren't it.
As they waved from the bus, I smiled to myself, knowing that I didnt have to look at thier lying, disrespectful faces for 2 1/2 months. I have never felt so good in my life. As I saw one other teacher wiping the tears from her face (she's a bilingual teacher, they have a whole different experience) I realized that this is why I became a teacher.
The summer.
3 comments:
What about the fat paycheck you get every month?
What aabout YOUR proud parents!
Good job Samantha!
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