Wednesday, March 24, 2010

My People.

I have been so busy this year. I apologize for not writing. I'm taking grad school classes and it's taking a lot of my brain this semester. Both classes require a ton of reading and some is the most boring stuff imaginable. I'm taking a leadership class and one of the books is geared to the business world. This book requires me to ride the exercise bike in my basement while I read. If I don't ride, the book puts me to sleep immediately. I've biked to Harrisburg and back while reading this week. Ahh!!! Still, I love my grad school. I really do. It keeps me sane and helps me realize that I'm capable of doing things and being an adult.

On the teaching front, my class is ridiculous. They will not stop talking this week. What do you do when all else fails? I call home, give detentions, give lunch detentions, send them to counselors, send them to administrators, have principal's conferences, enact behavior plans, keep copious anecdotal data, and do every other f@cking thing that a good teacher should and it's still bananas. I don't know.

This class is very low in maturity and skills. Their maturity issues are getting the better of me and every other teacher right now. They can't follow simple instructions and they can't get along with each other. I want to cry.

Yesterday, one of my girls was working on her current event in the computer lab. This girl, "Annabelle" says she has a story. It's a story about a 11-year-old kid being butchered in a holdup. We've been doing current events for a month and I'm tired of articles like this. There's more news than murder, mayhem, and Justin Beiber's dog. I ask her to find something else. She's in the Philadelphia Inquirer's website, there's dozens of articles to choose.
"This is the only article, Mr."

"No, there's a lot of articles online. Take another look."

"This is the only one."

"The entire Internet is there for you. Take another look."

"Guess he only wants news about his people."

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, nothing."

My people. Yes. My people. Apparently, I only accept news articles about white guys who like punk rock and roast pork sandwiches. Christ on a crutch. I'm sick of kids who just say anything. I'm at a low ebb in the teaching year. I'm wishing for June.


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