On Crying At School

Well, I honestly was hoping to be blogging this weekend, telling everyone that I had FINALLY had my PERFECT week; one that went absolutely flawlessly, without a single incident. Unfortunately, that was all ruined today, after my period five class. Some of you may be thinking "Oh no, it's that darn Bobby!". Well, my dears, you are wrong. He's been in what they call "seclusion", because he freaked out on a teacher, and stormed out, much like he did to me. They're keeping him out of all classes until they can have him assessed. For what, I am not sure, but I don't really care. The fact that I don't have to deal with him brings a smile to my face, daily. The other students are also extraordinarily happy that he's not in the class. They're finally able to perform to the best of their ability, without his terrible distractions. That said, the only other option for ruining my week rests soley on my year 9s.

They were perfect angels on Tuesday, which is what made today even more puzzling. I was absolutely astounded by their behaviour on Tuesday, and I told them as much. I also promised them a treat on Friday, if the kept up this angelic behaviour. They promised me they would.

Bloody liars, the lot of them! Today they were absolute hellions. They didn't listen to a word I said, and were practically bouncing off the walls. One child in particular, I shall call him Jimmy, was being very very naughty. He kept making VERY realistic fart noises with his mouth. I believe I've talked about him BEFORE....anyways, he kept making the fart noises, which were VERY distracting, because all the other children would immediatly start laughing, and complaining of the stink. Obviously there was no stink, as the farts were not real...but regardless, it was very very annoying. You may be grinning to yourself now, thinking that's not so bad, but you have no clue. It was repeated, endless farting. I would reprimand him, and he would smile and say "sorry Miss!", and then immediatly do another. It was a blatant disregard for my authority, and it was infuriating.

To make things worse, I'd had an after school detention with Jimmy on Tuesday, and he was a doll when we were alone. I had him read a chapter of the novel, and we answered the questions I had assigned together. He was quite normal throughout our time together, and showed he is no dullard. It was a total 360 in class though, with him reverting back to his childlike behaviour. It was fairly clear to me that his actions were motivated by a desire to get attention. I had talked to his mother on the phone last week, and she said he has some strange desire to be class clown. This was blatantly obvious to me today. I wish I could tell him that being the class clown doesn't mean you have to detract from the lesson for EVERYONE...but he would never understand. Ugh. So frustrating.

Eventually I removed him from the class, and things quieted down a little. However, a pair of girls would NOT stop talking, despite the fact that I had issued them all silent reading. I wandered over, and sternly told them to get to work. They both looked at me, and rolled their eyes. The look of utter definance on their faces made me want to bitch slap them both. I'm a woman. I know the looks we give each other. The looks they gave me were so judgemental! It was as if they were saying "Who the FUCK do you think you are, bitch?". I gave them my bitchiest looks possible, and their rolled their eyes again and sighed, whining about how they hated reading. I told them I didn't care what they liked, that they had to complete the reading like everyone else in year 9. More eye rolls. I walked away, to deal with some other kids, and their talking resumed instantly. I tried to shoot them dagger eyes the entire time I was helping the other student, but they pretended not to notice me.

I walked over again, and tried to get them back on task. They ignored me, and continued talking. I went to the board, and wrote both their names on, which is our agreed warning. They both started to protest loudly, saying that "everyone else is talking too!".
"I don't care, I'm talking to you right now, and you're not listening."
They tried to argue with me about it, but I told them they weren't in a position to argue with me, and they'd be best to just get back to work.
They rolled their eyes again, and continued talking, louder.
"Alright, get out your diary. I'll be seeing you Tuesday after school."
"WHAT!? This is STUPID! You're STUPID! This is NOT FAIR!" they shouted at me.
I ignored their whining, and wrote that they had detentions with me in their planners, in pencil. I told them that if they were quiet the rest of the class, I'd remove the detention. They gave me a look of total hatred. I could tell they absolutely hated me, and wished me dead. I could care less. They kept angry looks fixed to their faces, as they bent over their books, their noses practically touching the pages.

No one else was quiet though, so really I was fighting a losing battle. When the bell rang, signalling the end of the day, they didn't even wait for me to dismiss them, they just jumped up, leaving their books scattered everywhere, and ran out the door. I stood in the wake of their mess, absolutly shocked. I moved slowly around the room, almost in a daze, pushing in chairs, and picking up workbooks. As the stack of books in my arms grew heavier, I felt tears pooling in my eyes. I tried hard to fight them down, but the frustration of the class finally crashed onto me in full, and I burst into a bout of frustrated crying. I cursed under my breath, and tried to control myself, but it was too late. One of the other teachers had walked in, and noticed me sobbing with a bundle of books in my arms.
"You okay?" she asked, looking a bit out of place.
I didn't say anything for a moment, because I knew it wouldn't come out sounding very mature.
"NOoooooooooOOOoooo" I finally wailed, letting loose a torrent of tears.
"Oh dear! Oh dear! What happened?! Was it your 9s? Tell Lesley!" she said.
She let me cry for a few minutes, and finally I composed myself and tried to explain. I told her it wasn't necessarily that they were horribly nasty to me, but it was just a steady stream of frustrations from them that finally got to me.

I bucked up though, and I refuse to let them know they've got me down. They cannot win. I won't let them! I am WAY too tough for this shit. Canadian chicks don't get beaten down by cheeky British brats! HELL NO!

So I have them tomorrow, and I'm going to walk in all smiles, and then rule with an iron stick. Bastards will be begging the nice Miss Carson to come back. Begging.

Anyways, I will write more on the weekend. Just know that, while I did cry today, I don't think it's hopeless. I can, and I will, prevail.

Cheers.