I quit
cytotec cheap online canadian pharmacy I’ve decided to quit my job. I asked my assistant principal today if he would still love me when and if I quit. He laughed at me and told me that wasn’t an option. I don’t think he understands how serious my question was.
This semester, I am teaching sophomores — something I haven’t done in 3 years. But, for the first 6 years of my career, that was all I taught (except for my interesting semester jaunt in Spanish and German). I love the content, the writing, all of it. After three years of American, I was jones-ing for some world lit. So, I asked the principal to give me two classes of sophomores in the fall. Apparently, I was smoking some form of crack cocaine when I filled out my request form.
What was I thinking? I’d had a cush schedule! Two sections of Honors III or AP III and newspaper. It doesn’t get much better than that! Kids that wouldn’t threaten to kill each other. Kids who were generally interested in learning for learning’s sake!
But noooo, I needed to revisit my past; I needed to save the world. I needed to solve all the problems with the writing test scores because I just KNEW I could create awesome results.
Well, that was all a bunch of hooey. It’s not happening. Instead, I’m ending the day EVERY day frustrated and angry. I find myself loathing the wake up in the morning because I’ll have to go and teach these kids who don’t give a flying flip why Shakespeare is important.
Today, I was ready to discuss, read, and teach my absolute favorite piece of literature: Shakespeare’s Much Ado About Nothing. I love this play and have since I watched the Kenneth Branaugh version on TNT during my college years. Those 6 years I taught sophomores, they ate the play up – loved every minute of it.
But this semester is totally different. They were bored. They had no desire to read the play, talk about the characters, laugh at the ridiculousness of Dogberry, enjoy the (basically) inappropriate innuendoes that lace the play.
So, I want to quit. How DARE they hate my favorite (I ask in my very 12-year-old girl voice)??
How DARE they assume it’s not going to be good because it’s Shakespeare, and he’s old and dead and doesn’t write in English!?
I want to quit. I want to stay at home and clean house. This would be way more satisfying to me these days. And the sad part? I really hate vacuuming.
