Catharsis: Now available in a worksheet

So I have not had the best day.


Some days the sheer volume of toxic emotional effluvium that high school students produce can overwhelm one's sense of chill.


Today I was beset by rampant assholery both within and without my classroom.  My room is right off the courtyard, in an inadequately patrolled region.  Being so poorly monitored, the ravening hordes descend upon this area in order to engage in their simian behavior far from the eyes of administration.  As far as I can surmise, a cult has sprung up within this population solely dedicated to disrupting my 11th grade English class, and I honestly don't think I have ever brought more joy into anyone's life than I provide to the adherents of this malign faith.


The little pricks INSIDE my class are another post...


Well today, as I was again the impotent, star-less sheriff of the new wild west, I lost some of my fabled cool, and found myself becoming flappable.  But I persevered, and showed due restraint.


I didn't use the word "motherfucker" even once.


But time moves on, and I continued my day with only the merest of facial ticks and the sound of the ocean pounding in my ears (tingling arms are usual in such situations, right?)  And so I had no choice but to get to work with the rest of my teacher stuff.  This included making my vocabulary worksheets, which I use with my weekly SAT vocabulary notes, using the new format of the redone SAT.  But I was in a bit of a state, as I said before, so it is possible this oozed out ever so slightly in my usual format of creating a story using all ten of that week's words in context.


Either way, I felt a good bit better when it was finished, and now present this lesson for your own educational edification.


Enjoy!




Vocabulary Unit 5 Worksheet


                                   Bellicose                          Obsequious
                                   Critical                             Placid
                                   Dismay                            Quizzical
                                   Exultant                           Undermine
                                   Hollow                             Wanton

 

            Some days it can be really hard being a high school teacher.  You watch all those movies where a young teacher starts working at some school in a lower socio-economic neighborhood, and through sheer force of will and determination, the protagonist is able to win the hearts and minds of the students in the end, and when the big test they’ve been working on rolls around, the kids do amazing, and our hero is ____________ with their joyous victory over those who were ready to write these kids off.

            But it’s not that easy.  New teachers have to learn to deal with a wide array of challenges.  Pointless meetings, needless extra duties, and humiliating reviews rob you of the time you need to plan lessons.  This is made even worse by the fact that these wastes of time are only there to serve the needs of ____________ county officials who only attained those positions through flattery and sickening simpering.

            But such things are found in nearly any job.  The unique challenge comes from the students themselves.  It can be tough to face nothing but ____________ looks when you ask the students a question about what you just taught them a week, a day, or even five minutes ago.  Many are outright ____________, and will argue with you at every opportunity.  They will challenge everything you say in order to try to ____________ your authority, not to mention your very sanity.  Others turn their aggressive tendencies towards inanimate objects, causing ____________ destruction wherever they go; trashing bathrooms, hallways, and classrooms in their campaign of mindless ruin.

            This will threaten to crush your spirit, but you cannot give in to ____________; you must keep your spirits up and smile.  You must always appear to be completely ____________ in whatever you do.  This ability is ____________; if you cannot do so, you will be destroyed.

            And that great victory at the end of the year?  After all you have given of yourself, locked in a constant war against apathy, you may just find that victory to be  ____________, and you ask yourself if it was even worth it all.  And every year, you have to tell yourself that the answer is yes.

To A Teacher Retiring Old

I realize it's been... let's say more than a little while since I've posted, but I swear, I've got a really good reason which I've been working on, and once I've finished coming up with it, You'll see.

But the point is, that during that absence, only one person actually asked about my blog.  One person actually reads my diatribes and derives some degree of joy out of them.  Which means that only one person has really been encouraging me, and making me believe that there is some reason to continue.

That individual is my department head, Brenda.  She has been my superior (inasmuch as one such as I can have such a thing,) at school for the last seventeen years, and was instrumental in making my (sadly no longer extant) Mythology class happen.  She has been a guiding force in my career and I have learned more from here than I can describe (I actually could, but I don't want to, because that would take a while.)

But now she is retiring.  After (30? 40? I have no idea how long she has been there, I just assumed they built the place around her,) years, she is leaving the teaching profession to... I dunno, paint flowers?  I have no idea what people do when they stop teaching, I just assumed I was going to die in class one day (probably fifth hour.)

So it seems only fitting that I honor her illustrious career (teachers can have those, right?) I would make a new post in her honor (note to self: don't use honor twice, fix that in editing later.)

But I'm not good at sappy tribute posts, so how best to not suck at this?  Then I remembered that I'm really good at taking a better writer's work and adding a bunch of goofy shit to it so that I sound all smart and shit (note to self: don't use shit twice.)  (Second note to self: maybe don't use shit at all?  Maybe buy a thesaurus?)

So I was reminded of the moving words of A.E. Housman's poem "To an Athlete Dying Young" and thought I could just rip that off.  That would be classy as balls! (Note to self: you might not be as good at this as you thought.)  So here is my attempt at a classy tribute.  Without balls.

When Fridays came, those first few years,
You drove home tired, weak, in tears.
Dreading Mondays, wracked by stress,
How you survived was anyone's guess.

Today we ring the final bell,
Your tenure ending with its knell.
Chairs on desks, cabinets locked,
Home you'll go, alarms unclocked.

Smart lass to slip betimes away,
From overcrowded dank hallway,
And photocopiers that jam and freeze
Can cause no stress for those at peace.

Hands that have their red pens capped,
Round student necks dream not being wrapped.
And feet whose pacing days now pass,
No longer twitch toward laggard ass.

Now you will not see the legions,
Whose certificates merely show completion,
Students whom the system failed,
By E2020 their losses veiled.

So remember, ere the echoes fade,
Each poorly-grammared accolade.
Recall each student whose unsure future
You did your level best to nurture

And to your name will cling those masses,
Who learned so much within your classes,
Remembering each lesson and story,
They learned because of Mrs. Corey.


Happy Retirement, Boss.