The Business of Educating

Ugh.

This one word serves as a watered down, family-friendly summary of what goes through a teacher’s mind as they think about heading into work. Why? They have to work with this years group of kids. Oh, and trust me, they have turned out to be everything their previous teachers had promised us:

• Lazy. Never turning in work. Studying is a four letter “S” word. The less effort the better, itho (in their humble opinion).
• Unorganized. Book bags and lockers have been transformed into mini archeological dig sites. Level of compaction is an indicator of length of age.
• Unprepared. Bringing a pencil to class? Who would have thought of it?
• Ignorant to the Point of Incompetent. Since when is drawing 10 lines 1 inch a part a task for rocket scientists? 
• Rude. Every request seems to be met with defiance and excessive eye rolling… not to mention words mentioned under their breath.

If only, these teachers ponder… “If only they were like Last years kids.” Their eyes glaze over slightly. Sure, last years kids had their quirks. But, as a whole they were leaps and bounds ahead of this years group:

• They actually attempted their work, while occasionally completing it.
• Participation in class was never an issue.
• They were able to complete the tests and projects with little to no modifications or hand holding.
• They were nowhere near as disrespectful or ungrateful.

And it seems the further back these teachers’ memories drift, the more wonderful the students were.

Those were the days. *Sigh*

As the bell rings, the teachers are pulled from their nostalgia to put on their combate gear and head into the intellectual jungles of their classrooms. They can see little hope in the children who await them and have spent most of their time contemplating the best way to survive until June.

Ah, June. That is the time when these adolescents undergo a “Beauty and the Beast” like transformation from unbridled rascals to… well… being Last Years Kids.

This is my morning ritual on workdays:

• Wake up the the alarm on my iPhone
• Knock things off of my shelf trying to find the phone to turn off the alarm.
• Mumble, groan, shower (no particular order)
• Brush teeth & shave… occasionally
• Get dressed
• Warm up K-Cup machine & brew Caribou Coffee K-Cup #1 in my favorite steel travel cup (it keeps coffee warm until 1pm ==awesome)
• Fix lunch
• Brew in Caribou Coffee K-Cup #2
• Add 3 teaspoons of sugar and some milk
• Head off to school

[/ritual]

This morning ritual is vital. The success of the day and the educational fate of the 120 minds depends on its close adherence. Why? Because I neeeeeeeed the caffeine to get me to and through each day at the mental jungle called middle school. This knowledge is so vital, I have made it the very first thing that students learn in my class on the first day of school:

Greetings! I am Coach G. Welcome to Social Studies. The first, and most important thing you will learn this year is that Coach G’s favorite coffee place is Caribou Coffee.

This nugget of truth even appears on quizzes and tests as extra credit. Caffeine is that important. Indeed, every teacher seems to have a way to intake their drug of choice. Coffee, Tea, Ice Tea, Chocolate, Soda, Redbull, Monster… Caffeine by any name still stimulates oh so sweetly. It is the essential corner stone of our education system.

Indeed, without caffeine to stimulate and awaken the senses, how can a teacher field such daunting questions as:

• “Is the moon really in outer space!?!?”
• “Why does Mary have five fingers?”
• “How do you divide with a calculator?”
• “If two Generals from warring countries fell in love, but one wanted to play the other to get his goods and then eventually stab him in the back… what would happen?”
• “Aren’t the Rights of Man - Life, Liberty & Prostitutes?”

These mental hurdles must be accomplished while attending to a barrage of other demands: opening jammed lockers, confiscating curse-filled notes, breaking up a flurry of ego-driven fights, and giving permission to retrieve a notebook that is needed during the middle of the lecture.

In the midst of this emotionally draining chaos, I grip my coffee cup with two hands and say to myself, “At least this is a good cup of coffee.” I sip my way into a state of nirvana, slightly recharging before heading off to my teacher chair to grade essays. Apparently Jesus gathered an army of followers and conquered the city of Rome. Fun.

So, I raise my caffeinated glass to you, my fellow teachers, and drink to our collective mental and physical health as we strive to make it through another day.

Stay tuned for the follow-up post - Stuff Teachers’ Like: Unplanned Afternoon Bathroom Breaks.

A quick glimpse into a teacher’s classroom and you see it looming larger then life in thecorner. It is the Teacher Chair (yes, I capitalized it on purpose). No, it is not any ordinary chair. Like a prince among paupers, it stands regal and distinct from the rest. It is a comfy chair, fully quipped with all the necessary features: tall backed, pleather cushions (though sometimes cloth), lumbar support, hydraulic lift, arm rests, and a reclining or rocking feature. Most importantly… it spins.

I have such a chair. It is a “must-have” in order to survive the 30+ year marathon to retirement. Why, you might ask? Is it because the chair serves as a power statement I make to my students, showing them who is boss as they sit in their puny plastic seats? Is it because the chair serves to increase my feeling of importance as I grade the work of children who still, after 7 years of school, do not know how to write a complete sentence? Is it because the chair supports my self-esteem when parents come in to tell me that my subject is nothing but a bunch of worthless knowledge? Well… yea, but there is a reason that trumps them all: it comforts my royal rump. With how much time I spend in my classroom, practically living there at time, I need to be comfortable, or else… well… or else! A sore hiney can make any teacher a little whiney.