You don't give a shit about anyone but yourself. Not one single fuck.

Tuesday, January 12, 2010

Just like Videoland.

When I worked at Videoland in Winona, my least favorite thing was to call the late list. When movies were 4 days late, we had to call people and remind them, leave messages on machines, ask them, kindly, where the fuck their movies were.

Most places are automated about this now, but I'm talking back in the days 2003, before we had such fantastic technology.

Anyway, I have 8 seniors who are currently failing my class. And because I don't want kids failing, because I don't like it, because I give a shit that they do their work (look, I'm just trying to make myself look like a good teacher--are you buying it?) I called the parents of all those seniors and I told on them. I ratted them out. I talked to parents, I left messages on answering machines with my school phone number, and when the lines were busy, I found email address and I composed careful, detailed emails about failing students.

Can I just say I'm lucky so far? Let me knock on wood, but my relationships with parents have been pretty fantastic so far. In Rochester and in Hutchinson. A lot of teachers have problems, and I will someday I'm sure, but so far, parents are sort of awesome. They apologize for their shitty kids, they say great things to me, like thank you so much for giving him a break, you're doing great, I'm sorry that he's behaving like he is. And then I say nice things about their kids, and the exchange is fantastic. The kids don't always change, but I feel like I'm doing what I can, and that someday the kid will come around.

Here's hoping. Who has 8 out of 24 kids that are failing? Who has a third of her seniors giving up in January? Welcome to night school, you shitty seniors.

A freshman plagiarized his speech today. Zero. Not looking forward to that conversation tomorrow. I kicked a kid out yesterday, for saying, after I asked him to move desks and sit next to someone else: I don't like him. Christ.

Today was a long day. Do I have to do my laundry? I guess so. I guess it's time to get addicted to American Idol again.

Cheers.

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