The ones who cannot love us back are those that remind us that we are worthy of love. They show us all the insecure parts of ourselves that we must embrace.
This is my sixth year as a teacher. There are days I love my job so much I couldn’t imagine any other and there are days I wonder how any teacher makes it to retirement.
“He was in juvie for setting fire to his family’s apartment that spread and killed his elderly neighbor. There was also evidence of him torturing animals and he’s been abusive to his mom and little brother.”
Each of our lives has been touched, one way or another, by all, some, a few, or even just that one teacher you will never forget.
Nothing freaks them out. They’ve seen it all. Tantrums. Screaming matches. Full-on meltdowns. Anxiety attacks. Pants-wetting. It’s pretty hard to throw something at them that will be able to shake their mood.
“Kevin’s dad wrote tuition checks and mailed them to me…his English teacher. This was a public school. When I gave it back to Kevin, voided, to give to his dad with a brief note explaining that this is a public school, Kevin got in trouble for trying to spend it at 711 after school.”
If we are doing everything flawlessly, day in and day out, we probably aren’t trying anything new. We probably aren’t growing.
The teacher was trying to condition them. He was trying to get them ready for disappointments far worse than coloring outside of the line.
The best laid (lesson) plans oft go astray.
“A girl came up to my desk and undid the top couple buttons of her blouse and said “Mister CLASSWORK, I’d do anything for a better grade…”