To Teach And Never Be Weary

"Mr. Kendall?"

"Yes Lulu?"

"Why do you want to be a teacher?"

20 sets of eyes looked to me for my answer, 19 from their spots on the floor and the last from Frizzle as she did paperwork on her desk. Reading circle

I looked over to the left and asked Skittles, a small and rather outspoken girl, if she remembered when she hugged me after I helped her with her reading. She nodded but was still confused as to where I was going with this.

That moment when she could move from letters to syllables to words to sentences with increasing confidence was what destroyed any doubts I had that teaching was what I wanted to do with my life. I always knew I wanted a career that could help people in some way, shape, or form. I just wasn't entirely sure what that would be.

Helping a child reach their heights and move on beyond them has become my goal. And I am nothing if not single-mindedly determined when I set my mind to something. I have never wanted a job where it is the same thing every day and this is something where I'm guaranteed to be doing something different.

I remember a professor of mine once saying that teaching is a draining profession. That you give and give with nothing in return until you are but a husk of your former self.

I disagree with this view emphatically.

I see a teacher as one who does continually give of themselves yes, however, we are given something in return besides an unappreciative salary. To know you had a hand, however small, in someone else's success is an amazing feeling and one I hope I never feel numb to.

I'll find another line of work when that happens.

Is this going to be difficult?

Yes but often times the most worthwhile things in life are.



And if they aren't worthwhile, I don't know who is.

My Weekend: The Abridged Version

I hope you folks have enjoyed your weekends thus far and have tried not to get too shitfaced. Here was my weekend in short scenes.

Scene 1: On the bus back from Schoolhouse Rock
Skittles: (horribly off key) "CONJUNCTION! JUNCTION! What's your function?!"
WG: (holding her hand over her eyes) "I'll conjunction your function if you don't stop."

Later...
Frizzle: "I have very good news for all of you."
"We're getting a pony!"
"Barney's coming here!"
"The aliens are here!"
Frizzle: "Umm...no. You all said you hoped Kendall could stay with us. Well he is."
Skittles: "Yay, we get to keep our Kendall!"
Me: "I didn't know I was a pet, little one."
Skittles: "I don't know. You'd be cute with a pink collar. Are you paper trained yet? Have you had your shots?"

Scene 2: State Fair
Imogen: "So what do y'all want to do first?"
Eva: "We're getting on the Ferris Wheel. Someone has never been on one."
Ruth: "What kind of sheltered soul has never been on a Ferris Wheel?"
Daybreak: "Papa?"
Imogen/Ruth: "We should have known."
Me: "Nuh uh, more like the kind of sheltered soul that doesn't come to your waist and is afraid of heights."
Eva: "She has always kicked a fit when I would try and get her to."
Imogen: "So she tried to buck the blame to Kendall?"
Me: "Yep."
Ruth: "This child is becoming more like you every day."
Me: "Scary isn't it?"

Scene 3: Watching movies at Eva's apartment
Eva: "Daybreak, what are you doing?"
Daybreak: "Gettin' comftable."
Eva: "Comfortable means crawling into Kendall's hoodie like a kangaroo?"
Daybreak: "Yes Mommy."
Me: "Apparently I'm warm."
Daybreak: "He's a teddy that hugs back."
Eva: "Beaten out by my own daughter, I see how it is."
Me: "Daybreak, since I can't see past the mass of blond hair in front of my mouth, how about we all just share a blanket?"
Daybreak: (taps her chin through my hoodie) "I s'pose."
Eva: "This way we both get to use Kendall's heat."

Scene 4: Church with The Bait and Pippi
The Bait: "I still think I'm onto something."
Me: "We're not exorcising Faith, end of story."
The Bait: "She's evil."
Pippi: "How do you figure? Faith's the cutest puppy ever."
The Bait: "You only say that because she doesn't enjoy tormenting you. That dog is evil."
Me: (laughing) "That makes her evil?"
The Bait: "What would you call it?"
Me: "Knowing when I've found an easy target and milking them for all their worth."

Of Seeds And Swallowing

Today Frizzle thought it would be beneficial to ask the class where they thought babies come from. Let the hilarity ensue!

"There's this giant cabbage patch that picks up the orders from mommies and daddies. Then a seed as big as I am turns into a baby."
"How does the baby get to the mom and dad then?"
"I don't know, the mailman I guess."
"That's stupid!"
"OOOOOOOOH! I'm tellin'! Mrs. Frizzle, he said a bad word!"

"The stork!" - 14 kids gave this answer, when I was 6 I largely knew that babies at least came from their mom's stomach. I had no idea what the vagina was. Which leads me to a rather mortifying story.

I walked into my parents' room as a child of about six or seven to find my dad had left a porn on. I was entranced. Best part was I distinctly remember seeing a woman giving a guy a blowjob. Now keep in my mind I was a child and had no idea what sperm was, so when I saw some kind of juice running down her lips I came to my natural conclusion...

"Mom, do you swallow Dad's pee too?"

Were you told one of the baby myths or did your parents tell you relatively straight? Please do share.

Don't Want to Part With Them

With spring registration in two weeks, I have a dilemma.

I want to stay with my kids.

I know it may sound weird that I am attached so quickly but the munchkins just wormed their way into my heart. I love this enough that I changed my major from English which is what I always thought I would teach to Elementary Education.

There are three other education classes I have to take before I graduate as well as a year of student teaching. I have requested that I am with Ms. Frizzle's class again in the spring as otherwise I would be assigned somewhere random in the school system.

I talked to Ms. Frizzle about it over the weekend and she has said she'd be delighted to have me back.

The kids themselves?

When asked if they wanted me to stay with them for the rest of the year, one girl who I had yet to hear more than five or six words a day starts to cry. I wiped her cheeks with a tissue while Ms. Frizzle asked her what was wrong.

Her response?

"He's our teacher too. He shouldn't have to leave."

And people wonder why I want to teach.

Marching to the beat of my own drum,

The Odd Duckling