 |
| How We Used to Be |
Today I was told:
Shut the fuck up.
What the fuck?
Don’t even fucking talk to me.
 |
| How We Are Now |
Three different students, one of them not even mine, just a
kid bounced to my trailer for misbehavior. Three different pieces of profanity.
As I nonchalantly mentioned the fact to another TFA teacher
during lunch, she thought nostalgically back on the days of our innocence.
“Remember when that wasn’t normal? I would have wigged out if someone said that to me outside the school… Now I’m just like, whatever. But I have
noticed my road rage is getting out of hand.”
I laughed and agreed that we are becoming inured to
profanity. Then I went back to my trailer and watched my students perform skits
of Napoleon’s life. In the middle, an administrator came by on a walkthrough. I
couldn’t help but chuckle secretly when she hauled a student off for cursing at
her as she told him to raise his head off his desk—welcome to the monkey house.
And then the bell rang and my dearest students stayed to
tell me about their thanksgiving plans or upcoming band parades or baseball tryouts, and I walked
out of my classroom high and pure and free, leaving it all behind.
No comments:
Post a Comment