Holy shitster. Haven’t had an ass-kicking like that at work in a long time.
Teachers are totally and certifiably nuts. Come, take a walk through my work week with me. It’ll be fun…if you have masochistic tendencies. And this was a short week, mind you. Only four days of insanity rather than five. Let’s start with Wednesday’s facebook status, because it’s almost too easy.
Today: cheating student, student go MIA in the middle of class, 10 children in my room after school asking for help while I’m somehow simultaneously supposed to be supervising parking lot, parent screaming at me for asking her to move her car, 1 meeting down, three more scheduled, discipline emails home
Now, since that’s only one day, I’ll very quickly add on the rest of the week: meeting Tuesday, 2 meetings Friday, Wednesday office hours, organize video observations for elementary teachers, evening work on stipend project, collect data from last education-related book study, plan next book study, 2 evening classes for Educational Coach certification…
Oh, wait! Did I mention I also teach Spanish? Taught a total of 15 classes, 135 students, 3 different levels. Gave 30 tests, 60 quizzes and collected 120 pieces of homework. Supervised 30 kids in study hall, organized another 30 on Thursday to present to the elementary school on hunger issues. Accommodated for IEPs, dealt with Asperger’s, bipolar disorder, speech impediments and, bah… I’m sick of this whole list. Let’s break it down a bit.
For all of you who don’t teach: have you ever planned a speech?
How long was the speech? 5 minutes? 10? 20? Even the longest speeches at most events/church servies/public anythings don’t go much past 20 minutes. So here’s my next question: how long did you spend planning that speech?
Try planning 5 of those suckers a day, each one 50 minutes long.
Ok — maybe I’m exaggerating. I only teach 3 levels of Spanish, so two of those “speeches” repeat themselves. Try planning three of those suckers a day. Only it’s not as easy as that. You’re not allowed to just speak for 50 minutes, oh heavens no. You must 1) present orally 2) maintain the attention of up to 30 teenagers while doing so 3) interactively engage with every single teenager within those 50 minutes (that’s right…30 teenagers, 50 minutes, quality conversation., you do the math 4) incorporate reading 5) incorporate writing 6)differentiate the entire lesson according to each students’ ability/special needs/social eptitude or ineptitude.
I dare any of you non-teachers to tackle any of the above numbers, especially #2. I’ll give $25 to any non-teacher willing to lock him/herself in a small, enclosed space with 30 teenagers for an hour. An extra $50 if you can maintain their attention for that time period. If they text, socialize, fall asleep, you lose. Just for kicks, though, I get to throw in whatever student combo I want. My bet? One ADHD kid, and you’re going down.
Are you beginning to understand? Because I’m only getting started, but I won’t bore you with the rest of the details. I’m too exhausted. At least this week, I didn’t have to deal with children choking on frozen grapes or emergency all-school pages.
That was last week.
So for all of you who have kids in school, go buy your teachers some chocolate. Or better yet – a pitcher of margaritas. At the very least, don’t scream at us like some cracked-out screeching monkey. You won’t get anywhere with me, crazy parking lot psycho mom. I work with teenagers. I see your crazy and raise you 135 hormonal adolescents.
That’s right. Now who’s scary?