It has come to my attention that teaching is fucking hard. Like, ASTRONOMICALLY hard. Gigantically, humongously, earth-shatteringly, Oh please God what have I gotten myself into, hard. Yes, that kind. Where there's no escape. I could be sitting knee deep in a pile of mud out in the Amazon, getting ready to wrestle an alligator for my only child that he stole from my clutches while I was in the middle of an uphill marathon on the side of a mountain, right after getting a root canal minus the anesthesia and I would still say to myself, "Well, at least it's easier than teaching". It's THAT kind of hard. Drama-queen hard, if you will.
And it's not the material so much. It's not the kids who think they know more than you. It's not the getting up at 5 am and staying until 5 pm and having to guess what it is your mentor teacher is thinking at all times because she's not very good at oral expression. It's not even the fact that I have been wearing the same underpants for three days because I simply don't have time to wash any new ones. It's everything. And I just don't happen to be very good at everything.
Teaching is like being a parent, if you think about. You know how they say mother's have to be chauffers and chefs and mechanics and all of that garbage that we take for granted still today because they just have to be great at everything they attempt? Well, teaching is sort of like that except in the Extreme Sports area. Like, I can't just be a role model and an English expert and a babysitter at times. I have to be SO MUCH MORE AND IT'S KILLING ME.
Sprinter: For hall duty to catch those rat bastards who should still be downstairs at lunch instead of parading the halls in search of friends to bother.
Police Officer: To reprimand said rat bastard
Improv Actor: For when you look down to see that your lesson plan for the day has already run out and you still have nineteen minutes of class left and all you can do now is fake it. That's right. At least 30% of every lecture you've ever heard was a teacher going "oh crap oh crap" mentally and just plain out faking it on the outside.
Custodian: Because one sneaky heathen that I WILL CATCH is leaving his red gatorade bottle inconspicuously throughout the room everyday that I later find and recycle for him. I'm thinking about doing DNA testing.
IT analyst: For when your mentor teacher can't figure out where she's sending 90 pages worth of work when printing it. See Sprinter for when she wants it figured out quickly.
Personal Assistant: Because even on the THIRD DAY OF SCHOOL some kids refuse to turn their simple assigments in and if your mentor teacher is like mine and states that absolutely no one fails, it's YOUR job to track that kid down, give them a gentle reminder and then ride their ass every step of the way until they get it done.
and it's just all so overwhelming that when I think about how I want to be an actual mother and a teacher AT THE SAME TIME someday I almost start hyperventilating at the concept because I can't be the chef and the mechanic and the sprinter all at once and this will only end with me serving an unsuspecting student whole grain pancakes right on their desktop at school and yelling at my four year old when she walks down the hall to the bathroom because Doesn't she know she's not supposed to be wandering around after the bell rings?!?!
I love it. I know I do, despite all my complaining. Every day I leave and I think to myself, "Yeah, this was it all along Dumb Ass. Of COURSE this was it" but still. Overwhelming. Please forgive me if I forget your birthday (Scott) or sound confused when I answer my phone if you call. It's just that I don't know how to keep anything straight anymore.
And I kind of like it.
