It's funny really.  It is so easy to write about the bad or frustrating things that happen during the school year in the heat of the moment. But if I'm really being honest, those terrible moments are few and far between now.  (I mean, they were so frequent my first year, but the second was so much better.) 

Now that it is summer and I think back to this school year, my mind does not go to the difficult, frustrating moments.  I think about how certain students improved academically and/or behaviorally.  I smile because some kids went from strongly disliking me to trusting me more than anyone in school.  About how E went from a 4th to 7th grade math level, how G never came to school in the beginning shifting to him stopping by in the mornings to turn in his homework, and how L back-talked like it was her job and at the end of the year would not make a peep because she was so focused and did not want to disappoint me.

I love these kids. They make me love what I do.

Bad. The only word I can think of to describe my students' behavior this past week and a half is bad. All of a sudden my respectful, quick, amazing students cannot shut their little mouths.

They just want to talk. Talk to each other. Talk about each other. Talk while I'm talking. Talk. Talk loudly. Talk about nothing. Talk about how someone needs to stop talking. Talk. We need to have another talk about this? Really?

They have been bad. It does not matter if my lesson is incredibly easy, rigorous, fun, or boring. Talk.

Although I grow extremely frustrated with them, and them with me, I do not regret my decision to teach for a third year next year. And even though I hate them sometimes, I love them still.

Confusion. A feeling that is too familiar.

It is that time in life [AGAIN] when I don't know what I am supposed to be doing next. My two-year TFA commitment is coming to an end in May. What the heck am I supposed to do now? I never thought I would continue teaching after my two years, but I actually want to do it for a bit longer.  I guess that is some sort of direction.

Here is where my confusion comes in:
1) I love working with my kids, but I don't want to teach forever. What do I do when I'm done teaching?
2) Where and what am I supposed to teach next year? This is what is killing me right now. I have so many thoughts running through my head about this right now (I will spare you.).

This is awful. Winter break gives me too much time to think, yet I cannot seem to make up my mind.

the reality of life and death

It is early for a Friday night, but I am exhausted.  I can't sleep though.  I have this feeling of helplessness that weighs heavy in my stomach. And heart.

One of my boys that I dearly love arrived to class very late in fourth period.  He never gets to school this late...   If he is that late, he just doesn't come.  Anyway, here he was.  I asked why he was so late - he just missed our unit test! He didn't know what to say; he just waved me into the hall.  He said his brother's wife (?) had a family issue.  Her brother and his wife were shot and passed away.  He looked and sounded different when he told me this. I had never heard this voice or seen this look in his eyes. I didn't know what to do.  I felt helpless. So did he. It was hard for me to hold it together the rest of the hour...

 He unexpectedly had to deal with death today.  Death is a reality I forget so easily.  He made me remember I need to appreciate life more.  Not just my life either.  As much as my students annoy and frustrate and torture me, I really care about them.  I easily forget this. 

I hurt because of his hurt.  Because of all of my kids' hurt.  Confused by my sadness,  today I said, "I need to stop getting so close to them." I realize that was the most selfish statement I have made in a while.  We need one another, I think. 

Snitches

If someone does something that is not right, a person needs to know.  This is how it always was for me anyway.  If someone hurts you, or someone else, you tell the person who can give the necessary consequences.  This is simple enough for me to understand.  Maybe I was just a goody goody (that's probably it).

I don't get it. Why does this "no snitching" mentality exist? Okay, I know why it exists, but I don't like it. This is heavy on my mind this week.

One of my kids was surrounded while older boys tried to take his stuff. He was shaken up and would not tell me who did it. Can't tell or you will get jumped or followed.
Wait, it wasn't just one. Another one of my boys had his phone stolen after school when four guys told him to empty his pockets. He was so angry he refused to go to any classes. He wandered around the halls looking for the kid who did it so he could "crack" him. He thinks he has to deal with this situation alone.
Done? No. Another one of my kids was surrounded, threatened, and his phone was taken after lunch. Luckily he went to one of our officers to look at the video. I didn't even think he would do that - I went to do it myself first. Sadly the phone was handed off and will never be seen by the owner again. The only reason he could snitch was because the guys who did it have no power (other than stealing). They won't retaliate for his act of snitching.

Everything is a game. Everything. Who has more power? Who needs to keep power? You can snitch because you have a bit of power. You can't snitch because you have very little. You don't need to snitch because you and your homies can jump the guy yourself.

I hate games.

I cried

I cried. For the first time since around September, I cried at school. This was the first time students saw it though. They saw me cry. I did not cry because my students are rough; I did not cry because I did not know what to do about a situation; I did not cry because I didn't know if I could survive like I did in August/September.  I cried out of frustration.

For the second time in less than a month, girls fought in my room during passing period. This time it started in the hall and was pushed into my room.  This isn't what frustrates me. I was, and still am, extremely frustrated about the fact that my students care more about fights than their education. Yes, it is exciting to them, but I don't care.  All they wanted to talk about the rest of the day was the fight. They get mad when I don't let them talk about fights; when I say I don't like it when they fight; when I make them work instead of watch the fight video. This frustration with the fact that my students cared more about a fight than anything else finally boiled over today. I cried. I had another teacher watch my class while I went to the bathroom to cry. And boy did I.

Here's the thing: although I was so frustrated (okay, I still am), my kids were the most caring and understanding people. Even my boys who didn't know a fight happened knew I was mad about something. They checked on me over and over again during passing period and even during classes. They got worked up about the fact that I was upset and threatened to beat the crap out of whoever made me mad. They told me they love me and they "need me here" (they thought I was going to leave because of this - yeah right). They apologized and offered to help me with anything I needed. It is good to know I am cared for by people I care SO much about. I just wish they would care more about their education and truly understand WHY I was so frustrated today.