I’ve learned quite a bit from ten years of teaching…here are some of the highlights.
If a second grader says, “I don’t feel good,”–get a trash can under his chin before he finishes that sentence.
If a 7th grader says, “Want to hear a joke?…Are you sure?…hee, hee, hee.”
Don’t say yes. It most definitely will be about sex.
If you say something funny and you are wondering if your middle school students are laughing at you or with you–be assured they are laughing at you.
The sentence, “This is due tomorrow,” means the same thing as:
Don’t forget to take the trash out.
Pick up your clothes.
Put your dishes in the dish washer.
Walk your dog.
You get the idea…
Volume means nothing. They WILL yell at the person sitting an inch away from their face.
If you want to get their attention, say “Phone.”
If you want them to work, let them listen to their music.
Eating like a dog, unsure of where his next meal will come from, becomes a daily act…on the part of the teacher…because we have about 12 minutes left by the time we have actually made our way through the maze, hunted down the students that owe us work, or found the students that are silently escaping their silent lunch consequence from a behavior that truly deserves so much more than a mere few minutes at a separate table.
THE STRUGGLE IS REAL!
A middle schooler’s social life IS EVERYTHING. Use this against them to thwart their evil ways WHENEVER POSSIBLE.
Planning time is akin to TOTAL ANXIETY as you wonder if you will actually be granted this mystical notion.
Hoodies are the end all be all way to PISS THE TEACHER OFF.
Second graders don’t capitalize “I” or end their sentences with punctuation. Fourth graders don’t capitalize “I” or end their sentences with punctuation. Fifth graders don’t capitalize “I” or end their sentences with punctuation. Seventh graders don’t capitalize “I” or end their sentences with punctuation. Good Lord where does the madness end??!!!
You may spend eight hours of your glorious weekend finessing your plans to be perfect–fun and interesting, yet full of learning for your little minions…yeah, those minions don’t give a crap.
You keep signing that contract. Year after year…you sign.
There is no explanation.
Teachers are an enigma. We do it. We hate it. We love it. We hate them.
We love them.
Thank goodness we stay.
You need us to stay…and so do your kids.