Dark thoughts

There are days like yesterday and today that make me rethink my decision to be a teacher. Do I really have the skills/patience/temperament to do this job effectively?

The reason I question myself about such things is this: I get so frustrated that I consider how joyous it would be to simply launch the rude/disrespectful/lazy students through the classroom window where they'd never be seen again. I don't dream about the violence of what the reality would entail. Nope. I just consider what a nice relief it would be to let these students vacate my life in some sort of mysteriously magical moment. You know? Poof. In a puff of smoke, they disappear. Them and their bad attitudes and confrontational demeanours. Is it really THAT HARD to copy some simple notes and then write 10 SENTENCES IN AN HOUR OF CLASS? I don't believe so. I've sometimes given my students too much work. Yesterday and today were not the days. But somehow, some way, they managed to bring me to a red-faced, frustrated point of angry that I rarely reach. I don't consider myself too high-strung. If anything, I feel like I'm too lax about many things in my life. But today. Today my friends... today was not my zen day.

I tried to reason. I tried to explain. I tried to provide simple consequences. And then I tried punishments. When the behaviour continues and other teachers contradict my authority, I'm left with little else to do. This is where the a background in illusory magic would come in pretty handy. Lippy kid? Yep... out the widow ye go! Confrontational? Zap... suddenly you're a kiwi on the lunchroom buffet. Swearing at me in Mandarin while your friends look on? A little flick of the wrist will land you in central Mongolia without a jacket and in the care of baby yaks. Didn't do any work for 12 straight classes? Hmmm... you might just end up on one of Jupiter's moons. Hope you dressed warm today!!!

It's days like today that make me feel like I'm losing the battle, and I'd love that bat that Dr. Seuss has mentioned. Let's be honest, any bat would do. I think without the stress relief found on my weekends and in my semi-regular runs, I'd be a gray-haired or completely bald man who rocks himself in a chair all day while under heavy anti-psychotic medication. Breathe, Mrak. Breathe. The weekend is almost here.

T