Monday, September 17, 2012

Teacher Mom

This week our friends announced that they were pregnant.  I was so happy for them.  I was 95% happy for them and maybe only 5% jealous.  Maybe, like, 92% happy for them and 8% jealous... Ok, I was like 90% happy for them.  Let's leave it at that.  It's not like I want a baby right now or anything.  We've been married 2 years, we'll wait another 2 or 3 more years to start trying, and then we'll be ready.  We have a plan and I am perfectly happy and content with that plan.  It's just, now there is going to be another baby around for me to hold and play with that is not my baby.  And I spend all day caring for and teaching other people's babies.  It is actually crazy how much I care about those 12-year old babies that aren't mine, but sort of are mine.  I invest the best hours of my day in those babies.  I study how they each learn best and how I can reach them.  I see myself in them- sometimes good, sometimes bad.  They disappoint me.  They make me proud.  They make me so angry sometimes I want to cry.  They frustrate me.  They make me laugh.  They cheer me up.  They're my babies.  But they're not.

I picked up a private student recently.  His mom contacted me and they happened to be free when I was free and were willing to bring him to my house so I figured, what the heck?  Some extra cash won't hurt.  This week he was packing up and he was talking about how his bow was a little stiff.  I said my bow was stiff too and I have been saving up to buy a new one.  He asked how much bows cost.  I said the one I was looking at was about $800.  "$800?!"  he said.  "What does it do?  Light up or something?"  I tried to explain what $800 bought you, but he wasn't buying it, so to speak.  It would seem that unless this bow doubled as a light saber and/or some kind or laser, I should not be spending $800 on it.

I have this habit of randomly breaking into an opera voice or other random accents in the middle of speech just to check to see if my students are paying attention.  It's extremely dorky but most of them get a kick out of it.  The other day on of my 7th grade violinists sang out in an opera voice the phrase "shadow bow!" just like how I do.  I was delighted to say the least because she wasn't doing it mockingly, she had just picked up on it and was emulating.  It was great.

I nick-named one of my students "Bacon" because on the first day of summer school class he wrote "I love bacon" on his name tag instead of his name.  So I just called him Bacon.  I was going to ease up during the school year, but he actually corrected me when I called him by his real name and said, "No, my name's Bacon!" and the kids called him Bacon so I guess it stuck.  You'd think a kid who insists on being called Bacon would be a handful, and you'd be right.  He is a handful.  But he also made my heart melt the other day.  One of my "special" students was struggling opening her locker and I was busy getting the class lined up for the buses and she couldn't get her locker open and all her stuff was spread out all over the floor.  Bacon just walked out of line and went up to her and asked, "What's your combo?"  And opened her locker for her, then helped her pack up her stuff.  I put my arm around him when we were outside by the buses and said "Thanks for helping with the locker.  That was very kind of you."  He responded with "Can I get a piece of candy for that?"  Oy.

I have a homeroom that I teach in another teacher's classroom.  The kids in that class don't take orchestra so I only see them in the morning for a short 30 minutes.  One girl arrives early every day.  She sometimes helps me pass out papers or take chairs down or run errands.  Sometimes she just sits and talks to me.  I don't mind because she is pretty sweet and I'm not usually very busy or anything.  The other day she started talking about some online chat room and this guy she met on there.  I was only vaguely paying attention at first but when I realized what she was saying I got a little concerned.

"Do you have to be a certain age to get in this chat room?"
"No"
"Do you use your real name"
"Yes"
"Your last name"
"No"
"Good.  You be careful- don't give any personal information.  In fact, you really shouldn't be on those sites at all.  Whose house are you at when you're using the internet?"
"My aunt's"

It's situations like these where I feel helpless.  I'm not her mom.  I'm not her aunt.  I have no authority over what she does on the internet outside of school.  I can only give her advice and warnings and hope she uses her brain.

One of my 8th grade classes was talking about careers and what they wanted to be when they grew up and what they wanted to study in college.  I told them how much I loved being a teacher but that if you don't love your job, you won't last. I told them a little about my first couple years of teaching and how rough it was and how poorly my high school classes treated me at my first school.  Their reaction was so sweet.  They were mortified: "You don't deserve that!"  "You are so patient!"  "You are such a nice lady!"  "You are so sweet and kind!"  "You are such a good teacher though!"  They made me smile.  They were so genuinely shocked. They wanted better for me.

My 7th graders sight read a real orchestra piece after only 6 weeks on their instruments.  I was proud as a peacock.  I strutted around for hours after that.  They know how to respond to questions.  They know how to solve problems on their own (within reason- they are still middle-schoolers after all...), they take instruction and then apply it, and they're making music.  I am absolutely thrilled with their progress.

These are my babies.  They test my patience, they push the boundaries, and they make me love them.  So until I'm ready for biological babies, these babies will be more than enough.



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