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Bad Girl House

Chapter 8.5, Teaching

By Kathy SeesPublished 3 years ago 6 min read
2
Bad Girl House
Photo by Element5 Digital on Unsplash

The beginning of the school year was both exciting and terrifying. I wanted to be as prepared as I possibly could, so that I would feel comfortable and appear to be confident in front of my new students. I wanted to make a good impression on the rest of the teachers in each building. My days started at the elementary school with the first and second graders. I stood outside my classroom door to greet them as their teacher brought them to me. The sound of squeaky tennis shoes and whispers accompanied a single file line of children that stopped when it reached me. Their teacher said a quick hello, and she then cued them to go into the room. As I smiled down at each one of them as they went past, I was having trouble slowing down the thoughts in my head. With each group that arrived, I had to remind myself that I would be fine. I was still needing to block the thoughts that contradicted the truth. I knew that I was a good teacher, but there was still that nagging voice saying that I wasn’t cut out to for this.

The students were all very curious about why there was someone different teaching them music this year. I explained to them that the teacher they had known retired at the end of the last school year. It gave me the opportunity to tell them how thrilled I was to be their new teacher, and how much I wanted to share my love of music with them. I told them that we would be singing, playing, and even composing music together. Some of the first songs that I taught them allowed them to introduce themselves to me so I could learn their names as quickly as possible. I loved to see their faces light up as they sang. Their favorite activity was walking in a circle while I played the piano. Depending on what I played, they would respond differently with their movement. Sometimes they would quickly tip toe when they heard high notes, and stomp like dinosaurs when they heard low notes. We even pretended to ice skate during the holidays. They loved to anticipate when the music would change, and I lover to try to fool them.

I normally felt pretty confident after my morning at the elementary school. I could keep those kids engaged, and was able to think on my feet if I was losing their attention. This also helped to prevent most discipline problems that might have been brewing. Unfortunately, the situation wasn’t at all the same when I went to the middle school in the afternoon. Waiting outside my classroom for them was a completely different experience than it was at the elementary school. There I was teaching sixth graders. I watched for them to head to my room at the end of the hall, emerging from a crowded, noisy hallway. Many of them were taller than me, glaring at the ground as they went by. I still greeted each one with a smile, hoping to get a reaction. Even if I didn’t get a smile in return, every once in awhile I at least made eye contact. These students who were no longer the sweet fifth graders who still wanted to please their teachers. They were beginning to push back a bit more, and see what they could get away with. Since they were older, I wanted to treat them that way, and teach them that way. I was afraid to do anything that they would think was too childish. I decided to have them compose their own songs, hoping that this would be something that they would enjoy. I made the assumption that they knew enough about the basics of music to accomplish this. It didn’t bother me that I needed to teach them those things, but for some of them boredom quickly turned into discipline issues. My inexperience kept me from realizing that I should have been doing activities that kept all of them engaged at once. I should have been doing the same things that my younger students were doing, but on a sixth grade level. We all would have had a much more enjoyable time.

My mom, who taught middle school algebra for thirty years, always told me that the orneriest students always become your favorites. I found that to be true almost right away. One of my sixth graders, whose name was Jordan, proved to be a real challenge for me as a very green teacher. He was the smallest boy in the class, with his blond hair perfectly styled. He seemed to be on top of the current trends, even for this tiny mountain town. He would talk out of turn and walk around the room at inappropriate times. When I would attempt to correct him, I was happily surprised when he would do what I had asked. Other times, his reaction to me was quite disrespectful. It was ironic that he would enter my room in a good mood, making conversion with me, even offering the occasional high five, and then turn into my worst nightmare as soon as class started. One afternoon when Jordan was being especially unruly, it seemed like there was nothing I could do to stop him. Eventually I sent him to stand in the hall until he was ready to behave. Leaving the room was probably more of a reward for him, but I had to stop giving him all of my attention. I told him not to move from the side of the door, and I would be back to check on him in a few minutes. Not long after I closed the door, a girl in the class made eye contact with me and pointed towards the small window in the door. Every few seconds Jordan’s blond hair could be seen as he jumped up and down. Each jump also presented us with a different funny face. His classmates couldn’t help but laugh at what they were seeing. Not being without a strong sense of humor myself, I had to turn away from the door to make sure that Jordan couldn’t see that I was laughing along with them. Composing myself, I tried to put a stern look on my face while writing out a detention slip. I turned toward the door, glaring at the window. He stopped when he saw me coming. I opened the door, and simply told him to go down to the principal’s office. The next day, Jordan asked me why I had gotten him in trouble. Reminding him that it was his own behavior that warranted the detention, he actually apologized for how he had acted. Jordan is one of the only students that I remember from my time in Virginia, and it always makes me laugh to think about him.

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About the Creator

Kathy Sees

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