Do those students like me? If they tease me, does it mean they like me? They will, after all, be evaluating my job, my performance and I know they like everything even, everything fair. Their pecking order undisturbed.
Do I like them? Will someone be able to see me care for them? Like them? I am not sure of my caring and how much I care. Some days I care too much. They tell me, slow down, Miss, when I ask them to write down the date in their composition tablets. Is this asking too much? In the zone of conformity, I smooth out my voice, school my features. Crinkle my lips in a pleasing primate supplication sort of way. Am I getting through? Getting through with my head nodding, eye contact, tilt of my head? So many questions for them! They are so very interesting! Sans sarcasm, sans waste, sans everything.
Friday, January 27, 2012
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
Dogpile. Papers on top of papers. Could be the computer is what I'm speaking about here. There were two agents sent to investigate the goings on at the institution. A small recording device was placed in the center of the table and a disclaimer form was signed by all those present. There was cold pizza and a small plastic bottle of water to be shared? by the "group." All to be disclosed in confidence, all confidential. I bit the bait and was reeled in. Two other humans existed who were interested in the teachers' plight? Huh? I spat out something about having no librarian and no real library access during school hours. Also, the stuff about disadvantaged this, disadvantaged that. I forgot to mention the bullying and harassment. Just doing my job. On the clock. Part of the plan. In the works. Time to ponder. Reality bites. Did I just say what I said, only managing to eat two pieces of the pizza and two chunks of pineapple? Plus, the water.
Monday, January 9, 2012
There is a question within a question and if you answer all the questions correctly you begin to believe you are finally a citizen, valid, stamped, and safe. It is not so. The test changes. It does not necessarily get more difficult, but it will become more of a test. That means sweat, possible failure, and possible glory. It is almost the same as fighting in a war. A test will become the goal and the outcome--dead body count. One of those dead may be your teacher. The war she/he is fighting is also like the test you take. It is mingled in antics, accounts, boasts of bravery. Glory or defeat. Arbitrariness. Another contract for another year. There are some moments of peace. For instance, when a book is opened and read. The test is not contained within and the answers are not apparent. The things that cannot possibly be tested but fought over in the gravel parking lot. Well, I forgot to say that there is some money involved. A whole lot of it.