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.