Monday comes again...

The good news is that we have Tuesday and Wednesday off. The bad news is that I have to teach 6 periods. Although only in my second year of teaching, this year has really tested my resolve to remain a teacher. I teach two self-contained special education classes of middle school ELA and social studies. As for one of my classes, I'm really beginning to enjoy the students. They are goofy in their 7th grade mannerisms, but even with the learning challenges that confront them, they have a nice way of getting along with one another, and are even quite sensitive to the weaknesses of their peers. They love to do group work (huge sigh) and can generally handle even my more bizarre requests (such as reading a difficult and boring literacy passage) with a minimum of compaints. If we could just get past the constant whining for bathroom passes, I'd have it made for the most part (or so I think at this point, as the honeymoon may still be in full swing).

On the other hand, my class of seven boys is so painful to even think about that I would rather stick a nail in my eye rather than ponder the thought of teaching them for the duration of the year. They present a multitude of behavioral challenges, and I am pretty confident that one of the boys is a very intelligent sociopath. Everytime I look into his eyes I see him planning to dash out of the school and begin to key my car with "FU, Mr. Boomer!" I can't seem to get through a single lesson with this group, no matter how hard I try. Teaching them the U.S. river system tomorrow is sure to illicit at least two or three physical altercations and a call to out ever ineffective school safety officers.

Good lord, now those officers have some serious junk in their trunks. A response to the fourth floor takes at least 7-10 minutes of their huffing and puffing to get their fat asses to my door. By that time, I have to hand them an asthma inhaler, a sponge to wipe the sweat off their foreheads, and an extra large bottle of Gatorade.