My physics teacher still thinks I am my brother, my computer science teacher asked me today for help with her job, and my math teacher’s favorite phrase is,” Don’t be creepy.” I am continually amazed by the spectrum of personalities that is allowed to teach the youth of America.
Before I go on, I need to let everyone know that I have an deep grain of respect for teachers, who work on the near-bottom rung of government and accept their pay and furlough days and look over disinterested kids AND keep the motivation to teach. That motivation is the more important than any diploma. Who knows where our kids would be without teachers willing to sit down and try to change the hearts of every aspiring dropout and apathetic indie wannabe? While I disagree with many of the views and actions and words of my teachers, I respect that they are braving a storm that will never cease.
… Now I can’t say anything bad about teachers. I’ve just had a change of heart, at least for the moment. This message is now for all students or ex-students who shit talk unsubstantiated rumor and slander and cheat on assignments and drift through school looking to lash out at the ankles of innocent passersby.
High school is a gender confused cesspool of the most vulnerable and most cynical children and adults in the world. It seems that people who can’t succeed just turn around and get education degrees. After all, those who can’t do, teach. If you agree wholly that teachers are dropouts of the life path that defines success, please sit down in a comfortable chair, brace yourself, and slap yourself in the face until your mind changes.
I haven’t enjoyed most of my high school teachers. I wouldn’t be friends with them outside of school. I may never even speak to them after I mature and get out into the world. I may forget their names and the facts they taught me, but there is one thing I will never forget. I will never forget the shit I saw them walk through with smiles on. If ever a corporate/government battlefield exists, it lives in the crumbling walls of underfunded, overcrowded public schools. My teachers have taught at my school for years, through bomb threats and furlough days and food fights and ridiculously crowded halls. Yet they walk with smiles. They may be faint. They may have even left the creased faces of senior teachers who near retirement. But they, the smiles on teachers of public school, the persistence of Baby Boomers to pick up Gen X’ers and help them to walk, has never failed, even after multiple kicks to the face. I salute the teachers who have survived the onslaught of student attacks that I know I have contributed to. The front lines that are never recognized are those that lay on linoleum between dry-erase boards and one-piece desks, but those are some of the most sinister. All in all, teachers hold a place of respect in my mind that will never falter.