What am I?

I’m sitting at my desk after school with a student who refused to use his class time wisely, so he is spending two hours with me after school to finish his argumentative essay. As he’s working, I’m left wondering how he sees me. Am I the witch who stole his precious free time? Am I the cyborg who doesn’t understand his feelings or emotions? Am I human, with thoughts and feelings just like his? I don’t know, and I really can’t ask. I care for my kids more than they will ever know, and that’s such a pity. They should know what they to me, and I try to show them, but if I’m the aforementioned witch/cyborg, can I even hope they see me as human? 

Am I genuinely asking too much? Maybe.

ISTEP, USTEP, WEALLSTEP…

Dear sanity,

It’s been real, and I’ll miss you in the upcoming week. Getting my students ready for ISTEP has been draining you, and I solemnly promise to replenish you during Spring Break. I feel like each time I lose you, I can never quite get all of you back; instead that empty spot where you were is filled with academic vocabulary, test taking strategies, and cheap, white wine. 

Mmm, wine. 

But I need to refocus. I can’t go off on a tangent, and neither can my students. That will earn them zero points on the writing portion of the standardized test. So sanity, please, do me a solid. Hold on for a little bit longer. Give me the strength to guide my students to success. Give me the patience to forgive my students when they fail. And most importantly, give me the wisdom to know that I am only one person. I can only do so much.

Sincerely,

Twenty-something Teacher Lady

First time blogger. Millionth time woe-er.

I, like my username, am a middle school teacher. I am young, and I am gray. No, not my skin. My hair. My 20-something hair has lovely, silvery strands streaming through the brown, and I can’t stop it. I am not here simply to whine, mind you, but if you are another teacher, you know whining is like breathing. I whine, my husband whines, my dog whines (dachshund probs, amirite?), and my students whine. And even though I know, I know, it’s annoying, I can’t seem to stop.

So here I am. Telling my woes to the world – or the ten people who will maybe read this someday – in hopes that:

1. I can finally have normal human interactions if I have the opportunity to release said “whine” online.
2. I can make someone smile at least once from my nonsensical stream of consciousness.
3. I can have someone else understand what the love/hate relationship with teaching is like.