Growing Up and Plain Stupidity

This is for all those people who wish they could be a kid again and be "carefree": Stop lying to yourself.

I read a quote somewhere that stated people have a hard time being happy because they make the past better than it was (and some stuff about the present and future). I don't remember the rest of the quote enough to paraphrase it because the part about the past is what stood out the most to me. All I remember about being a kid was wanting to grow up. I'm sure I'm not the only one who wished that. There comes a point in people's lives when they want to stop growing up and they start fabricating a sense of true bliss in their childhood, even if there was none.

Looking at a classroom of 18 children everyday brings back old memories. I've realized this for some time now, but it wasn't until recently that I finally truly understood why my teachers in elementary school and junior high disliked me. It's like looking at myself, except multiplied by 5.

I'm glad I grew up. Growing up brings maturity (in the little doses it comes in), intelligence, and plain common sense.

I swear I've never seen such stupidity for a long time. The class I teach has gotten so disobedient that they have to hold hands while they are in line. These are sixth graders we're talking about. Embarrassing, right? I bet you could never imagine that being more stressful to the teacher than the students holding hands. Student A was holding Student B's hand while walking down the stairs. Student A jumps off at however high up he was. Being the bright student he is (I refrained myself from calling a 10-11 year old a dumbass on my own blog), he's still holding Student B's hand and drags him to a painful accident. That's when I walk in. I left my class in the hands of my volunteers (little teacher aides) while I was on break. I turn the corner to see a bunch of students from my class huddled around a crying sixth grade boy on the ground.

Stupidity is a rampant virus spreading throughout the class I teach only. Every other class is fine. It's just affecting my class of ne'er-do-wells. Let's just say that was the third worst thing to happen today.

The Dreaded Summer School and English

Summer.

The urge to get a drink every other minute because the weather overrides any good judgement about saving money. Throw in the want to stay indoors to stay near an air conditioner. I don't remember what life was like without one. Actually, I just remembered. Whoops. I was in pre-K and lived with my grandparents in Canada. She owned a grocery shop and I helped myself to a "Nesquik Ice Pop" whenever I wanted.

Then there's summer school. Yes, the dreaded summer school.

I guess this is a post to those who wants to or doesn't know what I'm doing this summer. Yes, I'm in summer school. No, not as a student. I'm a teacher and not enjoying it.

I now understand the pain and frustration my teachers had dealing with me when I was younger. No matter how many times a teacher told me to stop talking, I would always found a way to talk to my friends. I was disruptive and annoying. Oh, how I wish the kids I teach weren't like the annoying brat I was.

My "homeroom" class is the sixth grade, but I teach English to grades five through eight. While I'm on the topic of English, I would like to applaud the New York City education system < /sarcasm>. I can't think of anywhere else where I would need to teach eighth graders what a noun is. I mean, I would understand if they didn't know what a collective noun is since I had no idea what it was until I made the lesson plan. But for the love of knowledge, at least get proper nouns correct.

Ok, I'll stop with the educational disappointment. Probably not professional to blog about the intellect of the kids you're teaching for the summer. To make a long story short, let's just say I'm going to lose my voice pretty soon. I have to yell for my students to line up properly on a daily basis more times than I can count.

Oh summer, please go away soon.