If I Wasn't Afraid of Losing My Job...

Hello all!  At times when all is quiet, I reminisce about all of my teaching experience.  This month makes 12 years that I have been in this game.  In the grand scheme of things it doesn't seem like very long, but it feels like eons to me. 

I started teaching in December of '98 at an all-girls, Catholic high school.  I was excited...excited about a lot of things. It was my first teaching job after graduating. It was my first real check (although it equaled peanuts), but it was still a check. I had my own benefits. I was growing up and I swore I could change the world and the teaching profession. 

Needless to say, I was knocked down to reality within the first two months.  I made the mistake of trying to be my students' friends (wish someone had told me that it would backfire) and it didn't help that I looked just like them.  The only difference was, I was out of uniform.  I used to get in 'trouble' for going into the teacher's lounge, the faculty bathroom...you name it, I got in trouble for it.  That is until whoever was yelling at me realized who I actually was.  It didn't help that one of my teachers from high school was now my co-worker and there was absolutely no one to mentor me!  But I digress...

I realized this was not the setting for me quite early on.  However, I was not ready to give up.  My enthusiasm for the profession made me swear I could take on the world and change it.  Within my first 2-3 months Bertha (that's what I'm naming her...and trust me the name TRULY fits) was determined to meet me in the parking lot or at the bus stop at 3 pm!  I knew then I was in the wrong setting.

Picture this:  Sometime in early 1999...A young, enthusiastic teacher gives a review for a test.  She tells the girls exactly what will be on the test.  Big Bertha in the back decides that she's going to talk to her friends, pat her weave, and not pay attention to the review.  Bertha takes the test and FAILS miserably.  When Bertha receives the results of her test, she shoots the teacher rocks for an entire 45 minutes and decides to approach the teacher (in an "I'm gonna whoop her a**" kinda way) after class.  The teacher looks Bertha up and down and wonders if she can take her.  Bertha is talking junk on her way out of class. This young teacher is wondering if she can pay a 15 year old gangsta b***ch from the street or if she knows a ghetto girl who will handle Bertha for free.

If I wasn't afraid of losing my job and going to jail, Bertha and I would have thrown down! Did I mention that in my two and a half year bid at that institution, I was tempted to come out of character and handle some business????  Needless to say, I didn't.  I was afraid of losing my job and going to jail.  I'm glad I had that experience though. It taught me that I am not supposed to work with children over the age of 10.  And if I can help it...NO MORE Catholic schools for me.