Extremely Tired, Angry, and Anxious.
When people find out that I teach middle school, they always give me a variation of the same response: "Oh my god! I could never do that." Even the guys my boyfriend works with, who are Nuclear Engineers, say this. I giggle to myself and smile because what they don't know is that I can barely do it, either.
This is year two of teaching ELA and writing for 7th graders and it is killing me. I don't sleep through the night. My head is constantly filled with anxious thoughts about behavior, lesson plans, parents, meetings, and how the hell to survive until June 7. When I began teaching, I loved it. Sure, I had rough kids, but the good outweighed the bad by so much. Then, everything shifted. I was hired at a Title 1 school and was warned about the behavior and the fights. I thought, surely it's not that bad.
It's not as bad as they said. It's worse. It's "I panic about getting out of bed and having to go back there." bad. It's "waking up in the middle of the night sweating from nightmares about classroom fights" bad. It's "curling into myself on the floor of another teacher's classroom and bawling my eyes out" bad.
When we dismiss for the final time on the last day of school, I'll hang up my work badge and say goodbye to being a teacher. It's a noble career but it's one that I simply cannot do anymore. Not at the expense of my soul and mind. People always joke about teaching being rough, about bad kids, and having to buy your own supplies (I've probably spent over $500 out of pocket on my students). Yet, it never seems as bad as it is once you're knee deep in kids cursing you out and throwing chairs at each other.
After today, we have 40 more school days. Just 40 more.
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