The Spitting Image...
Yeah, hi. I was spit on today.
And because I'm sure you're all "Ew!! What?!" I'll remind you that I teach a class full of kids with behavioral disorders.
And when you have a behavioral disorder, and you refuse to go into the classroom and are running around and screaming in the hallway, and we count "1, 2, 3," and you still don't come, and so two aides pick you up (in a way that has been approved as "safe" in necessary situations) and you start swinging your legs all over the place, and your teacher (me) has to grab your legs, and so you swat her in the back of the head (which hurt, by the way) and you are still being carried... you spit. You probably spit because you don't know what else to do with yourself. With your arms and legs being held, your mouth is the only thing left you have any control over.
But I will also clue you in on the fact that even when you are a teacher who knows that kids spit on people because they feel otherwise helpless, you still feel kind of humiliated. And you definitely feel like you want to cry after you've had a morning in which your classroom is still taken over by the school couselors, and your reading class was being really bad, and your supervisor popped in to find your reading class being really bad... well you end up on the verge of tears. And then, the only reason you don't actually cry (because people telling you "don't worry- everyone has those days," while nice, just makes you want to cry even more) is because your aide starts talking about dildos.
So then, at the end of the day, you see your secretly pseudo-aunt (mom's best friend from childhood who you don't tell anyone you know on a personal level because she played an instrumental role in getting your foot in the door in the district last year) and spill everything, and she promises you things will get better and tells you to smile. And so you finish cleaning up your classroom, make a list of things you need, and go do what always makes you feel better:
Shop.
And you spend another $100 on classroom supplies, only this time, since you are in an organizing phase, you stick almost entirely to organizing supplies (bins, baskets, etc). And then you get to the check-out, and you notice that the cashier only scanned one set of paper trays, so you tell here there were two there, and she thanks you and then tells you that the bottle of white board cleaner (which she had already scanned and bagged before you told her about the paper trays) "might be leaking." And it is. And you think about the fact that had you not helped her out by telling her about the paper trays, she probably wouldn't have helped you out with the leaky bottle.
And so then you remind yourself all about karma, and decide that you've just got to make the best out of what you were handed. An unfinished classroom... a bratty, noisy, unlistening reading class... a watchful supervisor... a spitter...
You've gotta have some good karma heading your way.
And because I'm sure you're all "Ew!! What?!" I'll remind you that I teach a class full of kids with behavioral disorders.
And when you have a behavioral disorder, and you refuse to go into the classroom and are running around and screaming in the hallway, and we count "1, 2, 3," and you still don't come, and so two aides pick you up (in a way that has been approved as "safe" in necessary situations) and you start swinging your legs all over the place, and your teacher (me) has to grab your legs, and so you swat her in the back of the head (which hurt, by the way) and you are still being carried... you spit. You probably spit because you don't know what else to do with yourself. With your arms and legs being held, your mouth is the only thing left you have any control over.
But I will also clue you in on the fact that even when you are a teacher who knows that kids spit on people because they feel otherwise helpless, you still feel kind of humiliated. And you definitely feel like you want to cry after you've had a morning in which your classroom is still taken over by the school couselors, and your reading class was being really bad, and your supervisor popped in to find your reading class being really bad... well you end up on the verge of tears. And then, the only reason you don't actually cry (because people telling you "don't worry- everyone has those days," while nice, just makes you want to cry even more) is because your aide starts talking about dildos.
So then, at the end of the day, you see your secretly pseudo-aunt (mom's best friend from childhood who you don't tell anyone you know on a personal level because she played an instrumental role in getting your foot in the door in the district last year) and spill everything, and she promises you things will get better and tells you to smile. And so you finish cleaning up your classroom, make a list of things you need, and go do what always makes you feel better:
Shop.
And you spend another $100 on classroom supplies, only this time, since you are in an organizing phase, you stick almost entirely to organizing supplies (bins, baskets, etc). And then you get to the check-out, and you notice that the cashier only scanned one set of paper trays, so you tell here there were two there, and she thanks you and then tells you that the bottle of white board cleaner (which she had already scanned and bagged before you told her about the paper trays) "might be leaking." And it is. And you think about the fact that had you not helped her out by telling her about the paper trays, she probably wouldn't have helped you out with the leaky bottle.
And so then you remind yourself all about karma, and decide that you've just got to make the best out of what you were handed. An unfinished classroom... a bratty, noisy, unlistening reading class... a watchful supervisor... a spitter...
You've gotta have some good karma heading your way.
posted by Jess at 8:33 PM
2 Comments:
oh dear. i'm sorry that you had such a crap day. i think you are amazing for sticking with your work and i know that you must be doing an amazing job. even your supervisor knows that, despite the scene s/he walked in on.
and i think that we should come down there and self-defense the stupid cashier who didn't tell you before about the cleaner leak.
i hope today is going spectacularly better!
The good karma is definitely on its way. Have you been watching "My Name is Earl"...totally on its way. I'd start playing the lotto if I were you. It might not be too late for those powerball tics ;)
love you!
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