on characters and instruments…

At this time, I should probably be in the auditorium “babysitting” students at an assembly. I’m not though. I don’t have a homeroom so it isn’t really mandatory that I be there. At least I don’t think so. I have a headache. I feel completely stressed. It’s been a rough week. It’s probably more than that. I won’t go into it here. This is my refuge, or at least it has been in the past. I’m trying to adopt open diary back into my daily routine. It’s difficult though.

There’s something about sitting in a quiet classroom, half-dark that is wonderful. I feel like I’m sheltered here.

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Sean told me I should write so I am.

After writing that, it sounds stupid. It sounds like something one of my students would write just to get out of writing. Very elementary. Hm. Wait a minute. I need music.

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I have a student in my writing class. Also named Jamie, by the way. He keeps mostly to himself but his writing is amazing to me. He loves the mystical. Today he came back from lunch early and dropped a few CDs on my desk. I questioned him…

“What are those?”

“Oh. Just stuff. I write from them.”

“What do you mean?”

“That’s where I get my ideas. You always ask where I get them from. It comes from there. From Celtic music. I just close my eyes and see my characters playing instruments.”

So I’ve been listening to his music all day. It’s relaxing in some respects.

Sleep. I want to sleep.

I feel drained today. I’m doing research with my kids and some of them don’t want to do it. When they don’t want to do it, that drains me. I spend time arguing with them or trying to convince them of the importance of research. I spend time working with them one-on-one trying to get them to understand. And when they don’t, I want to scream but end up explaining the same thing again. It gets to be too much. I feel successful in that respect. I love teaching this way. I love caring enoguh to take the time to help them. But it’s hard on me. I can’t justify my actions. I had a few teachers come in today to tell me I’m doing too much. If that’s the case, why are there times when I feel like I’m not doing enough?

Today I had a student mumble under her breath “Leave me alone, you yelled at me yesterday, I don’t need to hear it again.” I had had enough at that point. I turned on her and gave her my youbetterwatchwhatyousay look and said “if I yelled at you, you would know. I’ve never yelled at you!” The entire class, a class usually noisy became quiet and just stared at me. Then I gave them my lecture.

“When you don’t do your work, it hurts me more than you.”

“Yeah right. Why?”

“Because it makes me feel like I’m not doing my job. I feel like I have to constantly pull you along because you won’t do the work yourself. And I don’t want to see you fail when you could become something.”

“Why do you even care? Why should you? Why does any teacher care?”

Hm.

Even the fact that she asked that question bothers me.

And I’m tired of writing. Time to work again.

[insert creative conclusion here]