I am ALIVE!

Barely...

I have 78 kids.  78!  And I relentlessly follow their hopes, dreams, bumps, bruises, loves lost, loves gained, family relationships, friendships, and academic progress.  I'm a mother, father, brother, sister, nurse, therapist, facilitator, lawyer, mathematician, tutor, judge, role model, slave-driver, coach, and friend.  Times 78.

I'm exhausted.

However, I DO have a good story.  This past Friday, my honors class tore me a new one.  We started a class contract so that we might have better classroom management and actually respect each other.  However, my 4th Core (advanced math class, last period of the day) wanted very little to do with this.  So they let me have it.  After a crushing 50 minutes of "you're a horrible teacher," "Why do you make it so boring?" "You're not fair - you always punish me!" and my personal favorite "You don't care about any of us!"  I had had it.  What was I to do?  I give my sweat, my blood, my life to 78 kids every day, and they don't even think I give a shit!  I managed to compose myself for the rest of that class, but just barely.  I cried all the way home and cried myself to sleep that night, despite having received two students' notes apologizing for their peers behavior in class that day.  One of my student's notes read something along the lines of "some of them just have problems with caucasian teachers."

I returned to class, prepared for the worst, but not ready to give up.  We would make this contract work.  We will have a safe, comfortable, classroom environment.  I brazenly reached for the contract from last Friday, ready for the groans and insults to begin.  But, to my surprise, only one girl raised her hand.  Other than that, it was completely quiet.  I was stunned at the silence, and secretly prayed they had not secretly plotted to rise up against the evil math teacher and get rid of her once and for all.  Ready for the worst, I take a breath and ask "What is it, Valerie?"

"Ms. Riemer, we were really rude on Friday.  We're sorry and we want to start over and make a new contract."

I had to hold back tears.  I was able to get through all of my lesson for today AND we are right on schedule with our new contract.  It should be stated that part of the motivation for this apology probably came from the desire to have a "Halloween Party," but I'll take it none the less.  

It's so interesting to read about all of your hopes and dreams - to consider the past, present and future of our lives, and how I can learn from it to advance the 78 children, the 78 sets of hopes and dreams, the 78 futures, who walk in to my classroom every day to lean math.  Teaching, although not my true calling, is certainly the most profound life experience I have ever had, in addition to being the epitome of true adult responsibility.

In other good news, I have started teaching after-school sessions on Tuesdays and Saturdays.  The only requirement is that the child comes with a parent.  During these sessions, I teach the parents the math that we have done during the week, and give them tips for how to best help their children with their homework.  They have become a real success for those parents who attend (there are about 10 who don't miss it for the world).  I'm hoping those numbers will soon increase as report cards comes out this week and I run a tight math class with high expectations.  I must stay strong in my resolve, and I must not let my expectations drop.  I must keep looking for the light at the end of the tunnel...not just for my classroom, but for the hopes, dreams, and futures of each one of my 78 students and children.

There is simultaneously a lot and very little that keeps me going.  And yet, at the bottom of this strange lifestyle, is the firm knowledge that when I finally surface from the teacher-pit, there are so many good things to look forward to - namely, all of you.  Thank you for being here for me at a time when I need you most but don't have the time to keep in touch.  I miss you all, and think of you all often.  Thank you for being the light at the end of my tunnel.