Screaming on the Inside
i hate teaching. well, not really. i hate teaching at this school. well, a bit. i hate my students. well...some of them.
can one be passionate about hatred?
when a fourteen year old youth tells you that he "runs you", it seems impossible for me NOT to spit out the water held in my mouth...on him. i'm not proud of my actions, but had he been a grown man, i would have spit the water out and cussed him severely. since, i didn't have that option, the water was justified. this is simply one incident that enables me to hate my job and many of the youth i teach. oops, did i say many? I meant most.
add this to meeting with the director of human resources who informs a group of us that, due to a decrease in student enrollment, we won't have a job next year. now, i'm not lamenting not teaching here next year. i actually didn't plan on coming back. it is, however, the principle of the matter. last hired, first fired does not include the three women that were hired a year after me? obviously not.
so why the dissatisfaction with the current year? well, i'm tired of the whole kit and kaboodle. i'm tired of a fucked up administration that refuses to see the merit and worth of the teachers in the building. students who refuse to complete homework, come at least 20 minutes late to class, and fight with little compunction seemingly exhaust my weary solace.
my biggest complaint today, about this urban school wrought with urban school problems of poverty, absent social services, and disorganization, is there is gum on my ceiling. these little muthafuckers have thrown gum on my ceiling.
understand why i hate my job today?
herein lies the reasoning and rationale of those teachers who've chosen to leave the field. a lack of support, bad ass children, frustration and helplessness fuel the exponential downturn of teacher retention rates across the nation.
my passion, today, is hating all aspects and facets of my job.
can one be passionate about hatred?
when a fourteen year old youth tells you that he "runs you", it seems impossible for me NOT to spit out the water held in my mouth...on him. i'm not proud of my actions, but had he been a grown man, i would have spit the water out and cussed him severely. since, i didn't have that option, the water was justified. this is simply one incident that enables me to hate my job and many of the youth i teach. oops, did i say many? I meant most.
add this to meeting with the director of human resources who informs a group of us that, due to a decrease in student enrollment, we won't have a job next year. now, i'm not lamenting not teaching here next year. i actually didn't plan on coming back. it is, however, the principle of the matter. last hired, first fired does not include the three women that were hired a year after me? obviously not.
so why the dissatisfaction with the current year? well, i'm tired of the whole kit and kaboodle. i'm tired of a fucked up administration that refuses to see the merit and worth of the teachers in the building. students who refuse to complete homework, come at least 20 minutes late to class, and fight with little compunction seemingly exhaust my weary solace.
my biggest complaint today, about this urban school wrought with urban school problems of poverty, absent social services, and disorganization, is there is gum on my ceiling. these little muthafuckers have thrown gum on my ceiling.
understand why i hate my job today?
herein lies the reasoning and rationale of those teachers who've chosen to leave the field. a lack of support, bad ass children, frustration and helplessness fuel the exponential downturn of teacher retention rates across the nation.
my passion, today, is hating all aspects and facets of my job.
posted by becomingme at 8:51 AM
1 comments
