Something to read whenever I doubt this teaching thing.

2005-01-11 at 6:30 p.m.

Previously: how do you make up for a poopy day? Two words: Happy Hour.

Now: I had a poopy day--I had to call a couple parents saying they're kids were having problems concentrating, things are going weird, and I'm a little concerned. I was at school until 5:30--two hours past union contracts require me to be there, I might add. So I put down the phone and scrolled through my class lists, and waited until I got to a student's name who made me smile and then I did this:

"Hi, I'm trying to reach Sheila?"

"This is Sheila."

"Hi, this is Kari ___, your daughter's algebra teacher at Blahdeblah high school?"

"Yeeeesss...?" always said with that, oh shit, tone of voice. (maybe because I'm a math teacher? noooooo...)

"I just wanted to say that Sarah is a great student and I really enjoy seeing her in class every day. She's working really hard and doing pretty well, and I'm really proud of her progress. You should be too."

Nothing, nothing in the world, can beat that feeling. I had a long hard day where I had to write up two studnets, and I was dealing with all sorts of stuff, and I drove home on a cloud of "Hell, Yeah!" after that phone call.

"Oh, thank you!" Sheila responded. (And here is the part where I toot my own horn) "And we just want you to know that you're a breath of fresh air for Sarah. She was having a tough term last term but she's really feeling more confident now."

So we each made each others' day.

There's nothing in my previous life that could equal that high. Nothing.

I made three calls like that last night, and each went almost exactly the same. I didn't call the best students' parents--I think think each student was making a B. I didn't call the most well-behaved students.

I called the parents Goofnut, who yesterday took out his labret and his tongue pierce and threaded his sweatshirt hood cord through both piercings and tied his lip and tongue together. (Yes, it really was as gross/funny as you might imagine) But Goofnut tries so hard and is so sweet and I think his mom is really used to getting calls from folks saying he acts up that when I said he had a high B and had solidly earned it through hard work and staying with it, she was thrilled to pieces.

Today, in Geometry, we finally got something--I'd describe it, but you'd fall asleep, probably. But the chorus of "Oooooh!"s was music to my ears. Seriously, a room full of juniors and sophomores were high-fiving, no shit, high-fiving each other! over seeing a pattern in how to find a sequence of numbers. How often, I ask you, do you get a dozen sixeen-year-old guys doing a victory dance over a math class?

I ask you?

How can I not love this job? How can I not feel ten feet tall?

2 people had something to say