Five Year Reflection

When I first started teaching, I never believed that I would have lasted this long. I wanted to give up because I truly thought teaching was too hard. Five years later, I'm still here. I can honestly look back at my first year of teaching and laugh at it; I can laugh at my immaturity and my neophytic perspective that almost made me want to kill myself.

As a first year teacher, I would get all kinds of advice and inspirational aphorisms from veteran teachers who wanted to keep me in the field and keep me motivated. All the while, I used to silently think, "You have no fucking clue what I'm going through." It was colossal adjustment--trying to teach something when I did not know what I was teaching, grading work when I did not understand my own philosophy about measuring intellect, accepting the fact that my weekends would never be truly mine, disciplining kids when I never had my own, and feeling guilty when I needed a moment for myself. In a span of three weeks, I was emotionally drained and mentally pushed to the limits, stretched thin in between that I lost my balance and made a decision to leave the teaching field. I'm glad I did not leave. I'm glad that I discovered my own strength in determination and pride: my pride never would have let me accept that I failed at something I have always wanted and loved; my determination kept me afloat in, what appeared at the time, Sisyphean waters. If I hadn't known these two things existed within me, I never would have stayed in this profession.

During these five years, I've learned so much more and discovered new things about myself. I may not have as many epiphanous moments, but I have rejuvenating episodes with my students, and every year, I know that I am growing professionally, mentally, and even spiritually. I'm at a point where I no longer wish to know my future and have the wisdom of old age. As I grow comfortable with my life, I've learned to be patient and embrace each day: the future will always be there waiting for me, but the acquisition of wisdom and experience is what makes life worth living slowly.

Watching From the Mountaintop

Sometimes I think I stand on the verge of a cliff, just watching the slow decline of humanity and the fall of civilization.

Or am I the only teacher that feels this way?

Affirmation

As the semester ends, procrastinating students have been coming to me after school to ask for help on essays--college essays, final essays, writing tutorials, letters of recommendations, etc. I was feeling burnt out as students asked me to read their essays one more time.

Yesterday, while reading an essay, two students conversed about the difficulty of writing. They kept saying that my class was challenging and tiresome because I made them write too much. In a strange complementary way, they said that taking my class was like a "slap in the face" because they didn't learn much about writing essays in their previous English classes. My class was a "harsh reality," and that my Nazi-English teacher reputation was almost accurate--the fact that I'm not a Nazi makes the moniker partially true.

And here I thought I was losing my edge.

Pushed to the Limit

There's a saying that goes, "The reward for hard work is more work. "

Two years ago, I was left alone in my classroom so I could actually focus on teaching, planning, and grading. I connected so much with my students that they still come to me as seniors when they need help on essays. I can write a recommendation letter for them because I feel that I have known them solidly for two years. When I see those seniors, I feel proud that I did a good job. I get so many compliments from other teachers about how Class of '08 has a bunch of talented writers. They are living proof of my success and hard work.

That was two years ago. Hard work led up to leadership duties. I don't feel as successful teaching this year. I know this curriculum like the back of my hand; I've taught it for four years. Because I have so much on my plate this year, my focus has shifted to multi-tasking for various committees, clubs, and teaching. Some of the seniors noticed that I'm losing my "edge," and that I'm gone all the time. The juniors hate it when I have to go to a conference and leave them with a substitute. My current sophomores totally lack in writing skills--and I feel to blame for that because I'm not there to focus on teaching them.

I'm not feeling burnt out, but it's bothering me that I'm not the sharpest tool in the shed anymore either.

When Class of '09 graduates, I wonder if they'll prove to be another success story or a mediocre one.

Resigned

I realized that as I get older, I get more set in my ways. This becomes an obstacle when it comes to relationships and dating.

As I observe young couples, from teenagers to college students, they have an advantage that older couples don't have: flexibility and growth. As these young people grow, they mold and develop their ideas and emotions around people and experiences. In a relationship, there is so much discovery about oneself and about one's partner. They learn to compromise and grow together if they want to stay together.

But as people get older and develop their own ideas and self-worth, it becomes difficult to compromise who you are when someone new comes into your life. This is probably why I am still single. It's becoming difficult to find someone who has anything in common with me. I cannot make someone change, and he cannot make me change. The only thing left is to argue about who is right and who should bend to the other's will.

It never bothered me that I was single for a long time, but it did bother me that it left me to wonder if anyone out there was right for me. I think I am resigned to be single for the rest of my life, and I'm going to stop wondering about Mr. Right. At my age, they are either married or too set in their own ways that we would never work out anyway.

C'est la vie.

Best Day

I have been a fan of his since 1998, and I never saw him perform until he came to Long Beach on June 29, 2007. Oh, baby! I was so happy to see him in concert--finally!

Men

Relationships suck, especially with men who think they know you.

Graduation

Graduation has passed and school has finally ended. As a teacher, it's always my proud moment to see a student march and cross that stage for the graduation ceremony. Although there are some students who do not deserve to graduate, due to their own lack of work ethic, it's more heartbreaking when a student doesn't march because of adult responsibility. A student informed me that he will not participate in next year's graduation ceremony because he has enlisted in the marines.

I have great respect for our military, but this one hits me hard: depriving me of a moment I always look forward to. I only hope this changes sometime in the next year and that my student will still get to march in the 2008 procession.

Rekindle

An old internet friend found me after a six-year absence. It was odd to see an email from him. Through the power of Google, he searched my name and it was linked to the website of the school where I am employed.

I used to depend on the high population of the internet community to remain anonymous, but search engines are suddenly making that impossible. Not that I was trying to avoid him, but it was such a surprise to hear from him. It's an unexpected reunion, and it's such an odd thing that could ever happen in my life: a guy made an active search for me just to tell me that he misses talking to me.

TA

Sometimes I learn the most sensible things about life from my teacher's assistant.

A year ago, he came into my classroom after school, needing to talk to someone about his girlfriend and the complications and hassles of a relationship. Before I started to silently scoff about "teenage relationships" and drama, I listened to him and tried to understand his problems. His frustrations and opinions made me reflect about my relationship with an ex-boyfriend and the similarities of my relationship and the TA's relationship--regardless of differences in experience and age. My student did not ask for advice; he just needed to vent. But if he was seeking counsel from me, I would have to think carefully before saying anything, for I faced my own hypocrisy at that moment. In retrospect, I finally realized that letting the ex-boyfriend go was necessary, like conquering an inner demon. I have no regrets now. I learned something about relationships from my TA.

Another incident arose again. He came into my class to vent about another teacher who is screwing him over about assignments, and he's a bit stressed about his grade. We talked again for about an hour and the end of our conversation was about hobbies. He said he needed a new hobby in order to de-stress, and as he slowly observed my desk with a sarcastic eye, he flat out told me I needed to get a hobby, too.

I thought about all the hobbies I used to have: mountain-biking, reading fun books, writing fantasy stories, playing the cello... He's right: I need to get into a hobby again, maybe even a new one, like archery, knife-throwing, or shooting. I eat, breathe, sleep, and live my work, and he makes it known to me all the time. Maybe it wouldn't hurt if I had something else to occupy and cultivate my mind besides the decaying quality of my students' essays. *sigh*

My TA certainly lives up to his job description.

The End of Teaching

In the wake of the Virginia Tech massacre, apathy and inhumanity swept across our campus. I hate to generalize, but why do the few bad apples at our school ruin it for everyone else? In the past week, we've had fire alarm pulled, an object thrown at a teacher, and a lockdown because of a possible weapon-threat. When I asked my students why they don't care about taking care of their school, one student replied that it wasn't their job.

It was the most heartless and apathetic thing I have heard in my life. If there is one thing that will drive me from teaching, it's the inhumanity and immorality of the students. I feel like I bash my head against the wall trying to open their eyes about ethics, responsibility, values, and morality. I'm trying to teach them life skills about what it means to be part of a community and a larger society, but they could care less. That attitude affects me. One day, I'm going to be as numb and cold-hearted as they are, and I'll leave teaching before my work is done.

I'm still holding on for now.

Grief

When I returned to school this past Monday from Spring Break, I was excited to talk about my trip to Japan with my students. Instead, our entire school was stunned when we learned the news of a teacher's untimely death. When I read the email, I held it in and did not bother to tell my students. Part of me did not know how to process the news and my own emotions. Eventually, I broke down during second period where my entire class saw me cry openly. I was no longer in the mood to teach.

Today, there was a short memorial service at the school. So many teachers and students were out to share grief and release white balloons into the sky. Everyone was crying.

How do you continue on with the school day after such a somber and heart-wrenching event? I tried to go on with lessons, but I broke down again, this time in my fifth period class.

I hate losing control of my emotions, especially in front of my students. I don't like showing my vulnerability, I don't like revealing private thoughts and pains, especially. Not to mention that it makes everyone uncomfortable when they don't know how to comfort you or each other. What is a teacher to do when they are still expected to maintain some semblance of normality and console others' agony when they can barely ease their own?

Surreal

I broke up my first fight today: two girls pulling their hair in a deadlock embrace. When I first saw it, I asked with disbelief to a bystanding student: "Is this a fight?" The student nodded, and then I stepped in to break it up. It was awkward because I never want to grab students like I did, pushing them, and even looking dumbfounded because no one was there to help me.

I was lucky that it was a girl fight. I don't think I could step in the middle of a boys' fight while they throw punches.

The Power of Words

Words have power. Power does not always mean a good thing.

Today, in class, I had an argument with several students about the connotation of words, "gay" and "bitch." First of all, I know that words like that are not even appropriate for the classroom, but no matter how much I try, students stick to the words they know. Forget vocabulary lessons; they don't ever stick.

Anyway, the students and I got into it about the offensive connotation of those words. They defined "gay" as "stupid." That's the definition they know, and they think that's the definition that is right and acceptable now. Forget the dictionary meaning, the historical development of its slang meaning, the connotations and its offensiveness! The word "gay" is inappropriately misused constantly, and I'm sick of it, as with "bitch" and "fuck" and any other noun that's used as an adjective.

I got nit-picky about it, and they got nit-picky about how English is an evolving language. I agreed with that, but the purpose of an English class is to distinguish slang English and standardized English. To teenagers, it's all the same.

I expect too much from the immature teenage mind.

"300"

I saw a sneak preview of "300" this evening. I loved it! I have never seen gore, blood, and violence so beautifully done. I'm not into the whole CG thing, but this film was quite an aesthetic experience.

In comparison with the graphic novel, and the movie does take quite a few liberties with character development, especially with the queen. But it's not the characters that glared so much differently as much as the context. When I read the graphic novel, the whole reason for the war was to protect Sparta from an invasion. While watching the film, I couldn't help but notice that the theme of fighting for liberty was so prominent; it was like war propaganda for Bush. The original comic was published in 1998--well before 9/11 and the Coalition. But to see the story in this time's context, it has a whole different meaning.

But that's the English teacher in me critiquing and analyzing things. The comic geek in me is just so pleased that 98% of the film did not stray from the original comic, and of course, beautiful gore.

It's been a while since I posted a stupid kid story.

This one is a stupid story and an offensive one.

His name is the Mumbler, because he mumbles in class. He mumbles ad-libs when I teach, and when I ask him to repeat it, he says, "Nothing," like a coward. Like a whining child, he has to have the last word in every remark made in class. When I'm teaching, he has to add something, even if it has barely anything to do with the topic. When another student contributes to the discussion, Mumbler has to add a comment.

To put it simply: he is fucking annoying.

Today was the cherry on top. We were discussing Julius Caesar and his physical flaws, one being that he had epilepsy. The students and I discussed epilepsy before because Simon of Lord of the Flies was also an epileptic. Mumbler declared that he wanted to have epilepsy.

What the fuck?

I told him that I did not find his comment funny and that he should count himself blessed because he was healthy. I went off on him after class and how I found his comment offensive; it was an insult to any person who suffered from a dibilitating disease or illness. He did not understand why I was offended until I told him my grandmother suffered from epilepsy. Then he suddenly had the "Oh, shit! I offended the teacher" look on his face. When I asked him why he made that comment, he said because sick people "have an easy life."

I had to stop myself from going on a morality rant, so I told him he was a weakling coward who can't handle life and that asking for a disease was a cop-out. What a shithead.

Am I cruel to wish something bad happen to him so he'll know how easy his life will be when he's a quadraplegic or becomes mentally incapacitated after a car accident or even gets diabetes?

Hell Can Freeze Over

In sunny southern California, known for beaches and the everlasting sun shining upon us, it can be hellish when summer hovers for three (sometimes five) months. This winter has proven that it can be quite cold down here as well.

It snowed up in the mountains this weekend, which is not a rare occurence. The rarity of the weather is that the Santa Ana winds are chillier and more brisk than usual. It freezes the dew on my windshield and it creates frost on the grass. This morning, it created icy patches along the street. Twice, I thought I almost lost control of my car. Damn scary.

New Toy

Rejuvenated

A three-week holiday is just what I needed. I've never felt so productive. I've read three novels, and most importantly, I've been writing again. My brain is on fire and my finger has a callous. I don't want to go back to work.