Thursday, December 09, 2004

I teach school. It is hard. Every day I wake up at the butt crack of dawn, oh wait, no I don't, I wake up BEFORE then to shower, dress and mentally prepare myself to be a full time teacher.

That's correct. I am a long term substitute at Savannah High School just north of St. Jo Mo. I have replaced the drama/communications/english teacher and am now officially teaching applied communications, creative writing (twice), drama (twice) and mass communications. Six classes a day. And the 25-30 students in each class are draining me.

This is not to say that I'm not grateful. I would much rather be teaching full time in podunk-ville, USA than inner city Austin, TX. My farm boys are a welcome change to the huge hall monitors, policemen, and students escorted out in handcuffs that are considered regulars where I sub in Austin.

When I first walked into the High School in Savannah, a girl held the door open for me. When i entered the office, two male students stepped aside to let me pass. I almost fell over I was so shocked. I've traded profanity for flatulence in the classroom, and locked doors for i-don't-even-have-to-put-my-purse-in-a-closet. I can't say I appreciate the loud and deadly smells of my students, but at least the candle in my classroom isn't considered a weapon.

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