Ain't Misbehavin'. But the Kids Are...

It's been a long time. I'm sorry I haven't written.

The revelations about my new profession keep coming. Forget my students. These days I've been preoccupied with the ways that teaching will change me.

I had a fabulous conversation Friday with one of my teacher-mentors. I was recovering from a situation I was involved in on Wednesday. Long story short, I confronted a student who (it seemed) had tried to...for now I'll say "bother"....me. I was not impressed. Quite frankly, none of the students had ever ruffled my feathers before. I wondered if I was losing my mind.

If you learn nothing else from me, consider this: You say you want to be a teacher? Fine. Get permission to volunteer at a school. Observe as many classes as you can. Make sure the students are @ the age you're interested in teaching. If you're lucky like me, you'll have a colleague who'll put you in a class with some "bad" students. Take it from me, you need to see everything. After all, if you're really interested in a teaching career, you should know what goes on. You need to know the real deal. The lame homework excuses, the insolence, the way students pick on each other without shame, the noise, the nastiness, the nonsense. EVERYTHING.

Because no matter how many fantasies you have about the kiddies kneeling at your feet while you read them Keats, there is always reality. And the reality is, that unless you're hella lucky, chances are you'll have students that'll do their best to get the best of you. Sometimes a whole class full of 'em. You may be tempted to scream, swear, and spit. Sometimes all at once.

Nothing beats working with students in their natural habitat. Not camp counseling, not teaching Sunday School--nothing.

The decision to be a teacher shouldn't be taken lightly. The least you can do for yourself is figure out whether or not you're going to making a mistake. Because quite frankly, with the crap I've seen, if I was a different person, I would be turned off.

Getting back to my story...I didn't foam at the mouth or anything. But I started questioning myself. I didn't ask whether or not I ought to be a better teacher. Rather, I'm concerned about how to keep my cool when my students try to make things hot. I can't sit in silence and let them get to me. At the same time, I can't shriek at them for every little thing.

So I am left, contemplating my destiny as a disciplinarian.

And in the meantime...I'm going to try and get a thicker skin.