Things NOT to do
It was a really @#$(^&* hot day during the first week of school. This one class was making me feel like it was the end of June – I was THAT worn out. The heat wasn’t helping.
I had strategically seated a certain kid, that we’ll call TJ, at a table right in front of where I stand when I’m giving lessons. In fact, he was practically UNDER me he was so close. Now TJ is labeled BEHAVIOURAL and last year, despite the fact that I didn’t teach him, we had a few “run ins”. I was determined to give him the benefit of the doubt, but he’s hard to read and he sometimes seems to be a ticking time-bomb. I’m a little intimidated by the kid to be honest.
So I started into a lesson. And I got very excited (as sometimes happens when you love the subject matter like I do). I began to speak with big arm gestures and waves and my voice was filling the room not unlike a preacher at the pulpit. The kids were engrossed - their gazes fixed on me with the attentiveness they show when I tell them sometime like that I buy cow eyeballs from a catalogue.
And sometimes when I get very excited, I spit a little. Unfortunately, this is what happened. And usually kids don’t notice, but poor TJ was right up front and he received a fairly visible ball of saliva square on his forearm (he had his hands propped firmly under his chin). I watched it land, realized it was a larger-than-normal gob and, without thinking, in front of EVERYONE, I reached down and gently wiped it away.
Poor TJ. Most kids probably didn’t even see the spit. But it would be evident when I wiped it off his arm of what had happened. WHO DOES THAT? I thought to myself immediately afterwards. Who wipes spit off a kid in front of everyone? And who messes with a kid like TJ? For god’s sake, of all the kids I should have been trying not to spit on….
Then another thought occurred to me. What if TJ didn’t know I’d spit on him? What if no one but ME saw the spit? What if they just thought I had randomly decided to reach down and stroke the arm of a student in the middle of a lesson? Teachers had been fired for lesser things I’m sure. It’s sad, but the misconstruing of any kind of physical contact is something that a teacher in this day and age has been trained to fear.
The thoughts began to spiral out of control. I cringed. I held my breath.
But, to my amazement, TJ didn’t seem bothered. Maybe he didn’t even notice anything strange had occurred. Maybe nothing strange HAD occurred. Either that or I’d been saying something far too riveting for their attention to be drawn away by a mere ball of mouth juice and a sincere apologetic gesture.
It was a really @#$(^&* hot day during the first week of school. This one class was making me feel like it was the end of June – I was THAT worn out. The heat wasn’t helping.
I had strategically seated a certain kid, that we’ll call TJ, at a table right in front of where I stand when I’m giving lessons. In fact, he was practically UNDER me he was so close. Now TJ is labeled BEHAVIOURAL and last year, despite the fact that I didn’t teach him, we had a few “run ins”. I was determined to give him the benefit of the doubt, but he’s hard to read and he sometimes seems to be a ticking time-bomb. I’m a little intimidated by the kid to be honest.
So I started into a lesson. And I got very excited (as sometimes happens when you love the subject matter like I do). I began to speak with big arm gestures and waves and my voice was filling the room not unlike a preacher at the pulpit. The kids were engrossed - their gazes fixed on me with the attentiveness they show when I tell them sometime like that I buy cow eyeballs from a catalogue.
And sometimes when I get very excited, I spit a little. Unfortunately, this is what happened. And usually kids don’t notice, but poor TJ was right up front and he received a fairly visible ball of saliva square on his forearm (he had his hands propped firmly under his chin). I watched it land, realized it was a larger-than-normal gob and, without thinking, in front of EVERYONE, I reached down and gently wiped it away.
Poor TJ. Most kids probably didn’t even see the spit. But it would be evident when I wiped it off his arm of what had happened. WHO DOES THAT? I thought to myself immediately afterwards. Who wipes spit off a kid in front of everyone? And who messes with a kid like TJ? For god’s sake, of all the kids I should have been trying not to spit on….
Then another thought occurred to me. What if TJ didn’t know I’d spit on him? What if no one but ME saw the spit? What if they just thought I had randomly decided to reach down and stroke the arm of a student in the middle of a lesson? Teachers had been fired for lesser things I’m sure. It’s sad, but the misconstruing of any kind of physical contact is something that a teacher in this day and age has been trained to fear.
The thoughts began to spiral out of control. I cringed. I held my breath.
But, to my amazement, TJ didn’t seem bothered. Maybe he didn’t even notice anything strange had occurred. Maybe nothing strange HAD occurred. Either that or I’d been saying something far too riveting for their attention to be drawn away by a mere ball of mouth juice and a sincere apologetic gesture.
1 comment:
okay...you're hilarious. really.
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