It is summer. I'm a teacher so that means three months vacation, right?
Not really. Three months of having to still work on curriculum, of figuring out what to teach in the fall, of looking out for supplies and books I want to use this school year, of still communicating with students I mentor (even though I am not going to be teaching at the same school - I still care about those kids and am here for them and all their issues: helping them get to college/transition to college; making sure they learn to save money and don't continue to spend all their money continuing to grow their collection of over 100 pairs of shoes, listening to relationship issues; helping them find jobs; writing letters of recommendation; helping them remember to use condoms and take care of their sexual health; helping them learn about life; being a shoulder to cry/complain/vent on).
It never ends. There is no true break.
Of course, my salary does not reflect all the work I do in the summer or throughout the regular school year.
Yet, I still do it. Because I can, because I love to help young people, because I like to believe I am good at what I do and what I share with the kiddos.
Some poetry for you all:
Taylor Mali "What Teachers Make"
Yellow Rage. Wow!
KRS-One with Doug E. Fresh. Recited this one with Travis at a school where I taught years ago. "Educate yourself make your world view bigger."
Up next, Gemini from Def Poetry. A poem called Penny For Your Thoughts. "72 eye lashes on the upper eyelid of your right eye" -- that is really something -- not sure if it is true love, or obsession, or insomnia.
You forgot my other husband, Black Ice.ReplyDelete
Once I e-mailed Taylor Mali in college and he totally e-mailed me back. Nice, nice guy.
It's really not three months. It's two, especially if you coach.
My mother was a teacher. This blog brought back memories of me helping her to grade papers of kids my own age. Not only that, it also reminded of how much being the son of a teacher is alot like being a preacher's kid. Everyone expected me to be smart. Sad to say, I let so many of them down.ReplyDelete
My mother was a teacher for over 30years and I a very deep respect for the profession. You don't get nearly half the credit that is due to you. I salute you and I must say that your work does not go in vain. You make great inroads in the lives of many of the young people you impart knowledge to. Again, thanks for the visit and I will add your blog to my blogroll!ReplyDelete
KBO -- I never got how you could do a fall sport, it takes me a while to get back into full days of work without those added 3 hours + games.ReplyDelete
Janet -- Thanks for the kind words. It really means a lot to hear from people that we make a difference with the young people.
RiPPa -- Thanks. You have an ability to make people think and be entertained through your writing, so you really couldn't let any one down with your talents.
Thanks for such dedication. I taught middle school social studies and history at an inner city public school in the 90s. It was the toughest job I've ever had and the most rewarding.ReplyDelete
I remember when one my students (this class had run a burned out veteran teacher to retirement) commented, sort of under her breath, "I didn't know that." I stopped teaching and asked, "Did I just teach you something?" She looked at me like I was speaking in tongues. That was one of the few warm and fuzzy moments of my short teaching career. (I'm a social worker now.)
@ Sarah -- Thanks for stopping by and leaving a comment. I hope you continue to stop by and that you continue to enjoy reading.ReplyDelete