I know this is going to be hard to believe, but there was a time that I would actually get UPSET if I got clothes or jewelry or gift cards as birthday presents. Crazy, right?? I remember the excitement on my face when I would see that fun wrapping paper, rip it off without abandon…and then see a gift box with the Limited Too brand blazing across the front. I would of course emit the appropriate “oh this is great, thank you”s as I saw fit, but I didn't really MEAN it. Oh no. I would have much rather ripped off that wrapping paper to find a Toys R Us gift box, or the New Kids on the Block board game (yes, that was actually a thing, and yes, I received it as a present one year, to which I was rather excited).
I’m not quite sure when that all changed. I want to say maybe my 9th or 10th birthday? But much like my perspective on several other topics has changed over the years (Nickelodeon, MTV, The Real World (and the Real World/Road Rules Challenge), short shorts, tanning, cute boys without real jobs still trying to “find themselves”…oh, I could go on and on, but I won’t bore you), the items that caused excitement and happiness when I was 7 didn't offer up the same pizzazz in my later years.
And then I realized that the teacher me ALSO now has a totally different outlook on certain things. Here’s just a small sampling…
Rain
What it meant to 8-year-old me: Water that falls from the sky. Sometimes slight disappointment, as being a Florida child, it meant that pool time might be delayed a bit (but being a Florida child, I knew that the monsoon-like thunderstorm would last for the whole of 5 minutes, and then give way to sunny skies).
What it means to me as a teacher:
F&$@!-in’ indoor recess! When all I want is for kids to have the opportunity to run around and get some of their pent up energy out (sans Fidget Spinners), their recess time is instead spent in my classroom. The ones that choose run-around time get a stern verbal warning from me (“Do NOT run in the classroom!”), and then sulk away to play a half-hearted game of CandyLand or Chutes and Ladders. My classroom, while it did not start as the epitome of cleanliness, is left immensely messier, what with misfit glue stick caps, random playing pieces from board games (where IS the little dog from Monopoly?!), and tiny pieces of paper in odd spots (because why wouldn't you want to see just how many times you can cut up one piece of paper?).
[On a “I’m not totally heartless” note…I do enjoy seeing kids getting to express their creative side. One of my favorite things to watch is kids using whiteboards, paper, and clipboards to play school.]
Mini-pencil sharpeners
What it meant to 8-year old me: Now I don't need to raise my hand to ask to use the pencil sharpener! I can just use this handy little thing shaped like a unicorn to sharpen my pencil into a little nub. This is also something to keep my hands busy instead of paying attention to the teacher.
What it means to me as a teacher: Kids randomly getting up to empty pencil shavings into the trash. Loud noises as kids accidentally knock their pencil sharpeners off their desks, prompting the rest of the class to look over to see what made that little ping…ping…pinging noise. Did I mention pencil shavings everywhere?
And more crappy little toys that will either end up on the floor to be swept up by the custodian into oblivion, or get taken by me to never be seen or heard from again.
The Scholastic Book Fair
What it meant to 8-year-old me:
Could there BE a better time of the year??? Oh, I loved nothing more than bringing in my dollars saved from my weekly allowance (or, begging my mom for just a few dollars that morning) to buy the funnest things EVER! Of COURSE I needed a poster of a cat that said “Hang in there,” a bookmark with a cupcake that said “So many books, so little time,” and a journal with a lock and key with a rainbow on the front. And books? Yeah, if I had any money left after purchasing the above-named necessities, I suppose I could buy a book or two. There MUST be a new Sweet Valley Twins or Babysitter’s Club out by now. And oh, how grown-up did I feel, walking around wth money to spend. I suppose Scholastic Book Fairs are the precursor to getting dropped off at the mall with $20 and spending it all on crap in Claire’s, Spencer’s Gifts, or Hot Topic.
What it means to me as a teacher: *Groan* I know Book Fairs are meant to bring money into the school. So yeah, that’s a good thing. But for a second, I just want to be “complainy” teacher and explain how it’s just one more thing for teachers to worry about…
8:03 am
Student hurries into the classroom. Throws backpack on desk and runs over. “Can I go to the Book Fair?”
Me: “Yes, once you get unpacked, that would be fine. But you MUST be back when the bell
rings at 8:15.”
Student: Throwing backpack into a cubby. “Ok, yeah, I’ll be back at 8:15.”
8:46am
Student strolls in, carrying a poster and a bag of other purchases (later revealed to be 3 erasers, an invisible ink pen, a tiny notebook, and the latest Captain Underpants book). “I’m sorry I’m late, but the line was really really long.”
Me: “That’s fine. I understand. So long as you understand that you are no longer allowed to go
to the Book Fair before school.”
(OMG, I am just the meanest teacher EVER!!!)
Student then proceeds to try every which way to fit his poster into his backpack, until I ask if he’d like for me to hold onto it until the end of the day.
8:51am
Back to teaching.
11:14am (1 minute before we’re supposed to leave for recess)
Student: “Can I bring my notebook and pen out to recess??”
Me: “That’s fine, as long as you are aware that it’s your responsibility.”
Student: “Ok, yes, my responsibility.”
11:26am (6 minutes after recess begins)
Student: “Can I leave my notebook here with you?”
Me: (invisible eye roll) “That’s fine, but you need to remember to take it in. I’m not carrying it for you.”
2:16 (recess has been over for 2 hours and 26 minutes; I am currently in the middle of a math lesson on rounding)
Student: (waving hand frantically in the air) Mrs! Mrs!
Me: (after a few moments) “Yes?”
Student: “I left my notebook and pen outside. Can I pleeeeaaaaaasssseee go out and get it.”
Me: (frustrated sigh) “I will send you once this lesson is complete and we are ready to pack up.”
(Again, like I said, meanest teacher EVER!!)
Summer
What it meant to 8-year-old me: The best time of the year!! So much time to go to the pool, and stay up late, and wake up late, and go to camp, and see movies at the actual movie theatre, and make pancakes for breakfast…and oh so much MORE!! Could there BE a better time of the year??
What it means to me as a teacher: SLEEP. And not lesson planning. And not grading. And pretending I don’t know my students when I see them at the pool. Could there BE a better time of the year??
No comments:
Post a Comment