(no subject)
I could easily convince myself that yesterday was the worst day I've had with my children. Granted, it was not the kind of day in which trash cans were lit on fire or in which children were expelled, which is where we were at with my last entry. But it was also not the kind of day in which the children didn't fight, in which they listened to me, in which they sat (relatively) still while I read them The Boxcar Children, in which they asked good questions which I could answer and teach from, in which they eagerly ate up all the books I brought from the library for them to read silently if they finished their work early, or in which they told me "Miz Alex, if you leave camp, you gonna take us too... aw shoot!" No, that was Monday. And so I started yesterday, Tuesday, on top of the world.
It turned out to be the type of day in which I called my mother in tears. And when she said, "Well, honey, at least no one was injured," I had to reply, "Yeah, except for the girl who now has a minor concussion." The day was so tragic that, in relating it, I accidentally forgot the part where David flew through the air at Chyleah (who's twice his size) sending her backward, her head cracking first against the desk, then the floor.
Ms. P, like many of the residents of New Orleans, has all sorts of business she needs to conduct with contractors and electricians and plumbers during business hours, as she is still living in trailer on the lot where her house used to stand. And she doesn't have any paid sick days, so I understood her dilemma when she scheduled an emergency appointment with a plumber during the middle of our camp day. And when she asked me to watch the children for a "little while" while she ran out to take care of it, I just nodded understandingly because, really, she's usually so good to me. Usually, when she says "little while" she means it, unlike other teachers I've heard about who take hour or hour and half lunches. This time when she said "little while" she meant four hours.
So I tried to teach my fourteen eight year olds all by myself for four hours. At fifteen minutes, I was ready to have them all sent to the principal's office. At an hour and a half, I was ready for a long, long break and I fervently thanked God for my twenty-five minute lunch break. At two and a half hours, I was praying for the opportunity to dump the class on someone else and go home, like all the way home to Michigan. At three hours, I was in tears. At three hours and one minute, the classroom was silent, all the children sitting still and quiet as the angels I know they are somewhere deep, deep inside.
I thought they would ignore the tear or two and the barely controlled sob. Or jeer at me. Or break out into renewed fighting, now over who exactly had made me cry. Their sudden change from the complete chaos of at least three fights to a stillness, both cautious and repentant, was unexpected.
I have never been so thankful for being a big, grown-up crybaby.
While those children may not respect me as a their teacher, and I think might be starting to, they certainly respect me as a person. And I couldn't help but love them more for it, despite my tears.
Ms. P says all teachers have bad days, days where they cry, and that I handled the situation well, considering. She told the class to apologize to me, and so, throughout the day, each one came up to me gave me a hug and told me how sorry they were for hurting my feelings or disrespecting my authority or misbehaving. Sweethearts all. Of course, they still didn't do anything I told them to, but one can only ask for so much at a time.
I learned a lot. I learned that the children don't want to make life miserable for me. I learned that they know I care about them, and that they care for me in return. All of them. Even the ever obstinate Donovan and the ever testing Clarence and the ever angry Eric. And receiving in return even the smallest bit of love I've given them is worth every minute of the time I've spent in that classroom. So yesterday was not so bad after all. Emotionally exhausting, certainly, but worthwhile.
And then Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix! OMG! Talk to me about it! Did everyone else love Umbridge and Luna as much as I did?
I took more pictures of my class today. For the five minutes of the day in which they actually worked! I have tons now! Still no usb hook-up though. I think I'm going to cave and purchase one this weekend.