I want it all

To continue from the last post, I guess what I really miss was the rock'n'roll life I used to have. When I made the career change, I made a lifestyle change as well. One can party til the wee hours of the morning and still be functional in front of a computer the next day. It is much more difficult to do this when one is faced with 28 11-year-olds at 8:30 in the morning though.

I am always quick to share the party memories but not the more recent ones. Jen was correct; I will never forget the hugs. When one kid calls me a bitch, I just remember the hugs I received from the others.

I taught sixth grade English and social studies my first year. I had a total of 75 students in three classes. At the end of the first marking period, I decided to let the students know what their grades. My second class had 25 students. As I told the last student his grade, I scanned the room and realized that I was missing a child. I found her curled up in a ball under her desk. She was sobbing uncontrollably. She was receiving F's in my classes. Seeing her crying made me want to cry. I sat down on the floor next to her and finally managed to coax her out. I explained why she had received the F's. I then asked what was worse -- receiving the F's or having to take home a report card that contained F's. As I thought, it was the latter. I told her that we were going to make a plan so that she would not receive a grade like that again. She was then to explain all of this to her parents as she gave them the report card. After report cards came out, I asked her how things had gone at home. She said that her parents were disappointed by the grades but they weren't nearly as upset as she had thought they would be. Why? Because she had explained that she had already talked to me and that we had come up with a plan so that this would never happen again. By the end of the school year she was receiving A's in my classes. I know that I will never forget her.

That summer I worked in a third grade class teaching science and math. When my university supervisor came to observe, one student announced that she used to hate math but no longer does thanks to my teaching. I told my supervisor that I obviously had not paid that child nearly enough. What I most remember about this little girl is that she also required at least one hug a day. I remember walking through the school garden and telling them what all the different plants were. O remember the wonder on their faces as I broke off a mint leaf, crushed between my fingers, and told them to smell it. I remember receiving stickers on a regular basis. I remember the little boys who were braver than I was and would remove the crayfish for me. (Some of them -- the crayfish -- were downright vicious.) I remember steeling myself before the kids arrived at school because I knew that I would have to remove snails from the terrarium for that week's science class. I remember the kids's initial disgust with the snails and that by the end of the week the kids were letting the snails crawl up their arms.

I could talk about the year I taught eighth grade English and American history but that year is filled with a lot of painful memories. I do still receive the occasional email from students I had during that year. They like to tell me about their high school experiences or to ask for help on a homework assignment. I became known as the English teacher who liked math and who would gladly help a student with his or her Algebra homework.

Now I work at a tutoring center. Sometimes I miss being in the classroom. Then I have days like last Friday. One of my current students had her dad drive her to the center after school because she had just gotten her report card and wanted to show it to me. Last year this girl was barely passing classes. She had received three B's; the rest of the report card was A's.

So somedays I miss my old party lifestyle. Then I remember how although I was often smiling, I really wasn't happy. I'm a lot happier now. It's just that when you've been one person for so long, it can be kind of hard to let it all go. I am still known as the wild child in my family. Perhaps my little cousin, who just turned 21, will pick up the torch. Then again, she's going to need a great deal of coaching to reach my level of wildness. That's why I'm heading out this weekend -- drinks tonight, comedy show tomorrow. Who says that you can't have it all? ;-)