But, for the purpose of this journal, that’s precisely what I’m going to call myself. Why? The answer is two-prong. Partially, it’s to protect the students that I write about, and partially because I think “Mesothelioma” is an awesome word. Rolls off the tongue. Of course, it’s basically the disease you get when you inhale too much asbestos and your lungs start to rot away… nothing funny about that… but still a great word. Besides, I tend to identify a bit with asbestos. It’s the type of material that sticks. If asbestos could talk, it’d tell you that it doesn’t give up. It’s ruthless. It’s a stubborn little fighter. And, even better, it’s fire retardant.
Even when I want to knock their heads together, I still love my little varmints and want them to learn, to be excited, and even to ask ridiculous questions that don’t relate to the current discussion (Example. Today, we were talking about congruent versus similar shapes, and one of my students said with great enthusiasm “Hey, if you leapt off the Statue of Liberty, how long would it take you to hit the ground?” …where did that come from? Anyone??). I don’t plan on giving up on them, even if they’ve given up on themselves. Hence, stubborn little fighter.
On my sorry excuse for a desk, attached to my tape dispenser, is a note. It simply says “calm.” Sometimes, out of frustration and anger, it’s easy to free one’s inner banshee. But I don’t want to do that. For so many teachers, it becomes a crutch. Start off nice, end up screaming by the end of class. Sometimes some serious disapproval is warranted, but I can’t see letting the kids know they’re getting to you. Once they figure out how to push your buttons, you’re toast. Delicious, crispy toast. So, show no buttons, and they learn they can’t inflame you. Fire retardant. Of course, this doesn’t mean I plan to be an icy-hearted dragon lady with no warmth at all…
I’ll just tell them that I am in cold grey tones, and laugh when they discover I’m lying. Coolness on the outside, with warmth and all sorts of silliness bubbling up from within.
Lately, I’ve taken to telling them that I’m a “totally serious individual” and that I have “absolutely no sense of humor.” Of course, by saying this, they have the intense desire to prove me wrong… and make me smile. But, they don’t realize I’ve tricked them. If they win, I’m smiling. If they win, I win. Because they’ve done something right. Said something clever. Completed the first math homework assignment in a month. They’re proud that they proved me wrong, and I’m proud that they worked for something. No sir, you can’t put egg on my face. Course, this technique will only work for so long. But call me Daisy Lou, and give me a short three-legged stool, for I plan on milkin’ this baby for as long as I can.
But there I go again, off on a tangent. To get back on track: in this blog, I tend to write about all of my adventures in student teaching. The good, the bad, and the smelly. I invite you to share your thoughts and stories with me. Hopefully we’ll all learn a little and maybe, just maybe, even smile.
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