Roller Coaster

Friday was a rough day.  The room was thick with apathy and their faces aglow with their contraband phones.  My face turned blue running out of oxygen lecturing them.

...I explain that 11 students (of the 29 in the class) are currently failing.
...I explain that if they end up with a 69.4 for the semester, they will not pass (no curves or "bumping").
...I explain that every single student who is failing owes me at least three missing assignments.
...I explain that they need to be doing their work.

Then, my face turns crimson.  Crimson with fury.  Why aren't they listening?  They don't even look up.  If a teacher had told me ANY of the things above when I was a student, I'd be rushing forward to ask him or her if I was missing anything.  Mind you, I was a good student and I still would have been quaking in my boots (ok, Skechers).

I emailed Jason and said, "I don't like the person they make me become."

That was Friday.




Then, Monday came.

I've been emailing back and forth with a mom about her son's missing work.  Over the weekend, she rifled through his backpack and found the completed (but not turned in) assignment and scanned it to me.  She also found something else -- a Teacher Appreciation card her son had made for me but had evidently decided against giving to me.  She decided that I should see it, and scanned it as well.  I'll keep the details to myself, but it was one of the best cards I've ever received.  I don't know if it was the student's sincere words or the frustrations of the previous school day, but I teared up reading it!



Sometimes I think about leaving the teaching profession (yes, the profession I profess to love so much) because it is frustrating, demeaning, difficult, did I mention frustrating?  But then something like this happens (and from such an unlikely candidate) and my heart warms all over again.  Oh teaching, you are such a roller coaster of emotions.