I've contemplated resurrecting this blog for a while, thinking that a little therapeutic writing would a) be cheaper than therapy and b) get me some of the online attention I so desperately crave. Then I read a list of all the "great deals" available to teachers during teacher appreciation week, such as 15% off discounts at stores I can't afford when they're 50% off. This stung a little extra since, at the age of 33, I work two jobs six days a week in order to live paycheck to paycheck, and most of the "vacations" I take involve riding in the back seat of my parents' Honda Pilot like an eight-year-old.
I ditched the list of generous teacher offers pretty quickly and took a long walk, on which I rage-wrote in my head an epic blog post detailing the things teachers really want (namely a living wage) and culminating in the question most people don't know I've been pondering all year: since I do not make enough money to live comfortably as a single adult, do I walk away from a job that I absolutely love? Should I sell myself in marriage so that I can whittle my work week down to five days? Should I sell my house and move back in with my parents so that I can continue to hang out with thirteen-year-olds all day, imparting valuable lessons ranging from "how to analyze a metaphor" to "why you need to learn to hold in your farts "?
Unfortunately, no one would want to read that bitter diatribe, and it contained far too many f-bombs for the pleasant, upbeat, appropriate online persona I try to maintain. Additionally, the rage was proving detrimental to my mental health, so upon remembering that the answer to all of the above questions is a resounding "NO!", I opened a bottle of wine and, in the spirit of teacher appreciation week, resolved to write a list of things I appreciate about being a teacher.
Here goes:
1. I can still afford wine. Sure, it's usually a choice between the one with the rooster on it and the one with the foot on it, but if you never have anything better than that to compare it to, it's just fine...right?
2. I do not pay for Starbucks. I am privileged to teach in a very generous community, so if you want free coffee, come hang out with me.
3. I also do not pay for entertainment. Between middle school sporting events, concerts, and theater performances, I have free entertainment on multiple nights of most weeks. It's basically like I live in New York City, except, you know...free. I've also noticed that many 7th grade basketball games look a lot like rugby, so it's kind of a 2-for-1 deal. My only struggle in these situations is trying to find a kid to buy me nachos once my behind has become permanently molded to the bleachers.
4. I have helpers for EVERYTHING. Seriously, when I'm working too hard, it's my own fault because it means I've forgotten that middle school kids will do anything for candy. Also, not many people know this, but frequently, they're even helpful out of the goodness of their hearts. For example, if I spot something especially repulsive on my floor, like a used tissue or a band-aid, I may start shouting that I'll vomit on the next person who thinks it's OK to throw something like that on the floor. Now, I'm mostly doing that to remind them about decency, but it never fails that some gallant young person jumps up and removes the offending band-aid, often with their bare hands. Where else can you get that kind of service?
5. Many parents really get it. I spent most of last week in meltdown mode, and then, on Thursday morning, one of my students rolled in for an early round of tutoring and delivered a piping hot donut AND kolache to my desk. Edible gifts aside, I also sincerely appreciate every parent who makes sure their kid wears deodorant and/or hasn't bought their kid a fidget spinner yet. These people are all the greatest.
6. I've learned to not take anything too seriously. How can I, when every time I finish saying something especially wise, the next person who speaks asks to go to the bathroom? If spending years and years of your life reliving puberty gives you anything, it's perspective. Very few things are actually urgent or life-altering, and I try to share this lesson with my students daily, though it's usually by saying, "If you aren't on fire or actively bleeding to death, go sit back down."
7. Sometimes, they really are listening. I might still be struggling to get seventh graders to capitalize the beginnings of their sentences, but they can all tell you that my number one rule is "don't embarrass me." If they're being goofy and I ask, "Wait a minute! Who's allowed to disrupt my class?", they answer in unison, "Only you!" In an attempt to get a shy class to answer a question, I once said, "Take a guess! It's not like I'm going to throw a rock at you if you're wrong!", and just like that, my "throwing rocks" became a yearly joke. On top of all that, they most definitely remember anything embarrassing that I've ever told them (we write a lot- it gets personal!). They'll parrot back anything ridiculous I say; I can only hope that they're hearing the important stuff, too.
If you've read this far, you've probably figured out that instead of quitting my job, I'm thinking about which boxes in my garage to move back to my parents' house first so that I can keep seeing my kiddos every day.
I don't love being A teacher; I love being THEIR teacher, and I love all the tears, smells, hormones, and attitudes that come with it (maybe not the smells, but you get what I'm saying...). If you need me, I'll be in my classroom, spraying air freshener while handing out band-aids, writing restroom passes, explaining that the nurse doesn't have a cure for boredom, and hoping they learn to be decent humans who can also read and write well.
