Can we be honest with each other for a minute? Like, can I just admit some stuff here? This has been a hard year. This has been my no good, very bad year.
I am tired. No. I am TIRED.
There is bone tired and then there is marrow tired. I can visualize my marrow: worn down, thin. Grey.
I get to work later every day.
Because it is hard to drag myself into that zone. Those glassy eyes.
I cannot fight the battle of the phone anymore.
I cannot repeat myself anymore.
I typed out those directions. Then I printed them out. Then I emailed them to you. Then I read them out loud. Then I wrote them on the board. Then I acted them out. With gestures. With accents.
How you gonna tell me, “I wasn’t paying attention?” For reals?
Guys, hello? This is my best material.
I have never written better lesson plans. I promise. They are meeting standards. They are based on essential questions. They are topical. They are fascinating.
They are useless.
I am old. I was BFFs with your ancestors. I remember the original thirteen colonies. I built the pyramids.
And in those decades, nay centuries, nay eons, I learned some tricks. My bag of tricks rivals Santa’s bag of gifts.
And. None. Of. Them. Work.
Every morning I have thousands of new grey hairs.
The circles under my eyes are canyons. They are purple. They have area codes.
Everyone is bored.
I used to be funny. No one has laughed with me in so long. I only cry in private. I only scream in my nightmares.
Hope does not return my calls.
My students used to just get high. They used to just get pregnant. Now, even the gamers are getting incarcerated.
It is getting bleak when the only poem which seems relevant goes, “Not with a bang but a whimper.”
I am not beaten yet.
The other day, someone remembered what an inference was.
The other day, someone asked for a highlighter.
The other day, someone was actually looking up a word on the phone under the desk.
The other day, a kid made a joke and it was funny.
This is not a good year in my room. Fine. It is not a good year in my country. Fine. But even Scarlet O’Hara knew that tomorrow was another day.