Sorry if I snapped at you 40 minutes ago. It was displaced anger.

At the end of the day I was So Very Angry that I could not articulate my frustration into anything but simple sentences. Simple sentences and curse words. Don't worry, the curse words came after school. Right before I hid in a corner so that I could not inflict my wicked witch furry on unsuspecting nice people.

I think I might have shocked some people, mainly the 20 little people who swarm around me like little bees. They often see my anger. A cold, calm anger about raising hands and sharing. I accompany that anger with a confused look of "Really? We are spending time for this? Especially since I know you know how to solve that problem." We laugh about that anger, we tease it out and sing songs about.

Today’s anger - that was something special. A hot, boiling anger of a disappointment and disgust. This anger does not come out often. It is scary and sharp. Full of bite. This anger is let down anger. As in, I gave you me heart and all you gave me was this pen, anger. Without realizing it, I have changed as a teacher, and my anger mirrors this change.

Naturally, I am cold and distant. I have enough friends, I have enough loved ones. School is business. However, in my joy of reading, writing, mathing, and historying, I have spilled some tightly sealed care. Something I tightly guard, because with care runs with the same crowd as disappointment and loss. Feelings my light personality do not enjoy. But I do care. I do care that my little bees enjoy learning, I do care that they feel confident in their abilities. I do care because I like to see them happy. My self worth and happiness has become intertwined with their self worth and happiness. I am not their queen bee; I am their mama bee.

So, my wee ones, I am sorry I let you down, but you let me down too. But if you are going to love me, you are going to have to love all the things about me. And I love you.

Empty Pep

I have pep rally baggage. Not a suitcase full, not even a tote bag. Just a casual, medium size hand bag. Think Vera Bradley's Betsy. In some faded old black pattern. Maybe the one with chicken eggs. Small bag, from years ago, often forgotten, but still in the back of my closet.

The baggage is empty. And that is my pep rally problem. I have no community spirit. Specifically, I have no school spirit. I skipped pep rallies in high school; college football games were about the food, not the score; and I never went to a college (or high school) basketball game. It is not that I hope my team/ school/ community loses. I just don't care enough to see them win.

And so, with this long drawn out written therapy session over, I will tell you my interpretation of yesterday's pep rally:

1. The 4th and 5th graders should have been dismissed the moment they started acting like hooligans.

2. Students need a greater understanding of why we have pep rallies. There is no sports game. We did not win some major competition. So why would the average student care about who the SCA reps are in the other classrooms?

3. If I am going to preach about "what should be done" - we should have some sort of school wide activity; we should have upper grade students act as "leaders" to the lower grades during the school song and the school cheer - I should be willing to initiate action. But I am not. I like my quilted chicken egg purse, and I am not ready to part with it yet.

Screaming - a necessary evil or a lack of control?

By the end of the day yesterday I was yelling at my students. This is not something I'm proud of or do often (hopefully). I blame it on lack of sleep (I woke up at 4:45), exhaustion from days of standardized testing, and the beginnings of a cold. However, knowing the cause doesn't really excuse the behavior.

I'm left wondering if yelling at the students periodically is as bad a thing as I think it is. I consider myself a positive, progressive teacher and I attempt to handle all classroom management issues through positive reinforcement and personal reflection rather than punishment. Some days that's just too tough for me.

What does this say to my students? Do they recognize that I have bad days just like anyone? Do they think their behavior in those instances truly warrants my rants (does it)? Do they lose respect for me? Does my yelling cause us to slip backwards in our sense of community or does it band them all together in opposition to me?