I didn’t mean to throw the first punch and it landed hard. I wouldn’t say they were caught off guard. I was. They took offense and reciprocated in turn–snarky, biting, flippant, and spiteful. What the hell happened?
The bell rang and I could barely get out of my seat. The students, on the other hand, were sitting at the ready with their papers returned, their homework for the next class completed, and prepared to deliver the final sarcastic blow.
Unless, of course, they needed a favor. “Mr. Dalbey, can I print a worksheet from your computer? I forgot to print it before coming to school today.” “…sigh. Sure.”
I love these students. And I want them to learn, be happy, and take an interest in life (especially literature). I try so hard to give them take-aways, “If nothing else, at least be able to recognize Poe’s use of inverted images. Think about your own inverted image reflected in a mirror.” Unfortunately, they don’t care enough even to receive such a gift.
I’m tired and they took advantage of it. I let my guard down and they landed the punch.
I sat back in my seat and stuffed all my papers into a bag and headed out the door into a sea of students. They all seemed happy; they complained about their classes, about their workload, and upcoming tests, but they seemed happy. In the hall windows, I could see my colleagues, each with the same defeated but determined expression. Educator’s always seem to lose except for brief shining moments; when a student can say, “ooooo! I get it! Now I want to reread it!” or when a discussion consumes the class and the majority of students stick around after the bell. Student’s (humans for that matter) can only experience beauty in small doses. And when they get it, when they see it, the world becomes bigger, happier, and worth the work.
But we have to work and work sometimes feels like defeat.
