I was a teacher. That’s right, despite the fact that I didn’t have teacher credentials {I had a BS in Criminal Justice, much more useful credentials, oh wait, you’re not my father I don’t know why I’m trying to convince you of that…he he} someone still managed to make me teacher for a whole 180 days. I know it was 180 days because I started counting down to the end of the school year on the first day of class. You see, I had some how been convinced to take on the role as an educator for a group of 8 teenage girls who were residing at a local Catholic home. These girls weren’t at this home by choice, they were young women who due to either their own personal social problems, or that of their parents, found themselves court ordered tenants at this home for months or sometimes years. If you think socially adapted teenagers are grouchy try throwing a group of unstable ones into a orphanage-like home where they can’t use cell phones, drive cars, or even leave the property with out a chaperone. Needless to say, the teen angst grew once some of the girls at the home were notified by the local school system that because they were deemed out of control they were no longer allowed to attend public school with their peers. This is where I come into the picture. So you know how it goes? A friend of a friend knows you’re looking and before you know it your sitting in a coffee shop shaking hands with your soon-to-be boss. The Director of Special Education offered me the job because she figured if I could manage 200 female criminal offenders then it should be a breeze controlling 8 teenage girls. You heard me right…..I did work at a prison for some time but that’s a whole other post for some other day! Well, guess what folks? I could handle 200 criminal offenders and I sure as heck could not handle 8 dysfunctional teenage girls. I could go on and on and tell you all the factors that contributed to me being the worst teacher ever {not by choice} but I won’t bore you with the details {teaching 8 girls at 4 different grade levels=24 subjects that needed to be taught in one day, public school didn’t budget any teacher’s edition textbooks for me, I never saw my boss again after our interview, I’m pretty sure the nuns at the home knew I slept in on Sunday mornings}! The point is, I, like so many others, didn’t give enough credit to teachers until I took that job. I admit I always rolled my eyes when my teacher friends would complain about teaching. I mean come on you guys get 3 months out of the year off of work! I would eat a sardine sandwich for a whole year to be able to spend a summer doing whatever I wanted. Now granted my situation was a little unique, in the first week of class when asked to turn in an “About Me” essay I was elated to see one of the girls wanted to grow up to be a drug dealer. I thought to myself, well that's a start, at least she had goals. In the middle of the year I found myself policing an almost physical fight between one of my students and the local librarian. Who knew the Dewey decimal system got people so worked up? And on the last day of school, exactly 60 seconds before that last bell rang, my freedom was so close I could taste it, and then one of my students decided to whip a diet Pepsi can at the head of another girl. So in appreciation of all the teachers out there I thank you for all that you do. I promise I’ll only roll my eyes behind your back never roll my eyes again when you complain about little snotty nose Tommy and his half eaten homework.
Tomorrow kicks off Teacher Appreciation week!
Need a gift idea? Check out this easy DIY corkboard flower pot
.
Who was your favorite teacher growing up?
If you could thank them today what would you say?
