Thursday, December 09, 2004

being real, yet again

As I expected, even in the midst of all my bravado, today was great. I know that I go too far in letting people say and do what I perceive they have to say and do. I'm too understanding. But today, when a certain person gave me her attitude, I told her NOT to talk to me like that, and she did anyway, and I gave her her purse and told her to leave my room, that I will not be spoken to like that. I was wild, in a good way. Outside the door she apoligized and I let her back in. It's not that I want her to leave. I just have to be treated with respect. At this school it's real clear. A little later, while she was reading the comments I'd made on an essay of hers (for which she received a 66 out of 100 because of little stupid mistakes) she went crazy, threw her folder on the floor (and her papers scattered) and she left the room, saying I show favoritism (because another girl in the class gets an A every quarter because this girl revises her papers until they're A papers every time). Anyway, so she stalked out. A boy from my first period who is so proud of himself for how his writing has grown was sitting in the class, catching up on something, and he said he'd pick up the girl's papers for me and I told him he'd be doing it for her, not for me, that I wasn't planning on picking the papers up (though in the end I helped her pick them up), and then another girl (I wish I could use names) came in and told me M was crying in the hall. I have seen three people crying at school in half a year. Anyway, obviously, I went out to her and we talked and I explained what it takes to be an A student, and she finally agreed to come into the class. She revised her essay again and it was a lot better, but I was loathe to make any comments. It was not an A. So I just wrote a note on the essay and told her to see me.
I have to stop writing now. There's a lot more to say.



Anonymous Anonymous said...

Today was my birthday, remember how we talked about being so close in birth dates? So here's what I learned. Whenever I had expectations all day long, I was frustrated, disappointed. But when I forgot me and watched the grandson enjoying cake, all else fell away. It's not about us. It's about them. And your students remind you of that daily. Whether they're being brats (and they can be) or angels (and they can be that too), it's not about you or me or any other teacher, it's about them. My 85 year old dad says every day can be a good day if I believe it can. He's wrong, of course, can't be always, but he's right too. He doesn't know any poetry, but he knows how to live it. And so do you.

11:32 PM  

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