I want to body slam every student I see.
Teaching middle school is unlike any other job you could ever have. It is akin to being in a mentally abusive relationship. You never know WHAT bag the person will come out of–what will be the thing that makes him or her snap? What will be the reason that you need to call security? What will be the reason that you go home and send your resume to every noneducation related recruitment site known to man?
The day in question started out okay. Nothing great, but okay. The week after a major break always sucks, so the fact that I only had to throw 2 tests in the garbage meant that equilibrium had been reestablished. Until my 8th grade class came 3rd hour.
They are the class that makes me daily punch a wall inside my soul. Yes. My soul literally punches a metaphysical wall at 10:28 every morning. They never want to do any work; they complain about everything being too hard or too much; they make teaching miserable for all who come into contact with them.
On this fine day, 5 of them managed to be late (their passing period is like 4-5 minutes long and it is less than 15 feet from their 2nd hour class to mine, but okay). I had to open my door 2 times to let in and snarl at 5 students.
And then, 5 minutes after that, comes student #6. Nine minutes between being released and actually showing up.
What was she doing, you might ask. Well, because she is an 8th grader whose attitude crashes likes waves on the shores of Lake Michighan, I never found out why. She felt she did not need to give me a response. She felt like she needed to tell me how I was doing my job wrong by not apologizing to her for missing my class because she was late.
So I told her to find somewhere else to be and closed my door.
She then proceeded to kick/beat on my door at random intervals until 10 minutes later I could stand no more.
Me: Do NOT kick my door again!
Student: THAT WASN’T even ME!!
Me: Who are you yelling at!?
Student: Obviously you!
Me: ((deep breath)) Get away from my door. Goodbye. ((Closes door before I completely snap)).
I’m telling you, you have no idea what teaching is like these days if you aren’t in the trenches. This kid needed to do 2 things: give me a reason why she was late and apologize. Like the 5 who were late before her. But in her little warped mind, she is too far above such humble dealings. I am there to serve her. She can do what she wants. Yeah, okay then. She clearly forgot who I was: a grown woman who does not care about her little power struggles. I still got paid without her being there; she got a zero for the day. Who lost? Not me.
Thank God for Fridays, Sick Days, and Holidays.