First and foremost, I fucking hate Miami drivers. No words can properly describe my ire as I merged onto 95 after practice, when I was literally driven off the road onto the shoulder by someone merging behind me, passing me IN THE MERGING LANE and cutting me off. Thanks. I hope someone fucking hits that woman. Then, as if my merging experience weren’t enough, I got tailgated up the ASS exiting to go home. And I wasn’t even in the heavy traffic! Lunacy!
Whew, now that that’s over, I actually had something to ‘say’.
Our education professor, Erskine, mailed out our course evaluation yesterday, telling me that I experienced several “intellectual ah’s” during the course. As Dave so eloquently pointed out, this is irritatingly condescending. True, but it’s also useful at times to really get across that final acknowledgement of comprehension. Today I actually had a moment, somewhere around 5th period, when I thought to myself "Hey, self, this job is okay." Yes, it lasted for about 12.3 seconds, and was followed by 6th period, the memo about our exdended day, 7 classes instead of 5, and precariously hanging deadlines, but it did exist. It existed for a moment (fleeting, if you will), and that made me feel not so desperate. For a brief moment in time I did not hate my job.
This week, in order to engage the children and still talk about something intellectually valid, I started teaching them about film. We learned the "real" way to talk about movies, all the hot film terms, and what a reverse shot is. Warmed my fucking bitter heart when kids were talking to eachother about the cinematography in Ocean's Eleven; counting out the seconds in each shot; paying attention to characters' names, and asking questions. In this case, I didn't see the aah's in a disdainful manner, because realistically as their teacher, an adult, and a fairly educated person I do know more than they do, about some things.
For the first time in absolutely ages, I had 25 eyes on me, listening to my words like they actually gave a shit about what I was going to say. Why 25? Well, since you asked, it's mostly because of outdoor and indoor suspension, kids skipping, and parents deathly afraid of the "winter" weather in MIA at the moment. With windchill, it's supposed to be an icy 40 degrees. WITH windchill.
In addition to this emblematic moment during English class, there were revelations revealed after soccer practice. Is that redundant? Do I care?
One of our injured players, an extraordinarily talented young lady, said to me as she carried the balls off the field "Coach, can I tell you something? You know, you really inspire me to do better." Completely taken off guard, I falteringly thanked her, before the brutally forthright child continued "Yeah, we all really didn't like you in the beginning, but you're cool." Much to my surprise, my co-coach affirmed the judgement, proving yet again that life is cyclical and nothing really changes. Apparently, when people first meet me, they think I'm a "bitch," and then when they get through the cold, sarcastic exterior things change. Clearly, my amarga side is back.
In high school, I suppose as a teacher as well as a student, I just don't really feel the need to be very emotional. It used to be that expressing postitive emotions made me very uncomfortable, and while I've gotten somewhat used to that, rewards and praise are somewhat alien to me. If that makes me a bitch at first glance, then I guess I'm doomed =). This odd Quantum Leap-esque conversation brought me straight back to Beach FC soccer practice in the twitch of a fatigued muscle. "Cool" girls telling me "Hey, you're pretty funny" or "I never knew you were smart" as that intellectal aah! passed over their glazed, perfectly lined eyes. Sure, some people might have been slow on the uptake, but at least they got it eventually, right?
[as she smirks ever so patronizingly] Aah...woe to those who never really *get* what I'm about.
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