It's a good thing that I do since I work with them all day. My hat goes off to all of those who work with young children. I was not called to be a young-children teacher. The lowest I am willing to go, grade-wise is third grade. I need children who know how to tie their own shoes, blow their own noses, and open their own juice boxes. The trade-off is that I get to deal with attitudes on a daily basis. You see, I work with (gasp) teenagers.
I LOVE them. Attitudes notwithstanding, I love them. They are a bunch of eye-rolling, teeth-sucking, exaggerated-huffing, darlings. I mean that with all sincerity. There are days when I don't think I can deal with ONE MORE teenage issue, but then one of them will come and tell me something that is going on in their life and I will melt with love for them all over again.
I am not that old that I don't remember teenage issues, even though they think I am ancient. No, really. I am in my 30's, so that must mean I am getting to the age where I am going to have to start going coffin shopping. ;) I know that they are dealing with things now that I never had to. I know that some of them are hurting and that makes me hurt for them. I also know, though, that I am not here to be their friend. I love them and love being with them, but I am also the enforcer of the rules, so that makes me the bad guy by default.
Being sent to my office is the most tragical of events. Nothing good EVER comes out of being sent to my office (or so they think). I think they are sure that I must go home and devise ways to torture them. After all, it is WAY too much to ask that they obey a silly rule like, oh let's say, "Do your homework." After all, this is school. They are supposed to have fun here, not work. Right? Silly me!
Seriously, though. I do work with a bunch of amazing young people, both in middle and high school. I am proud of what they have accomplished this year--they have a come a long way.
To offset the insanity of working with teenagers I read to a kindergarten class once a week. That is FUN. There is no way I could ever deal with them all day long, every day, but I love going to their classroom to see them and listen to them. You just never can tell what is going to come out of their little mouths:
"That boy, the one right there, the one with the dark hair...didn't even get recess today."
"I have an imaginary dog. His name is dog."
I should write a book of the things they have said to me. I think I could make some serious money.
Speaking of dogs.....
Peek-a-boo!
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