Maybe I could be a Somali pirate?

Hmm, today was definitely a "Why do you keep talking" day. In fact, they said that...a few times. That, and other wonderfully edifying statements all designed to make me go away. It's a wonder why anyone teaches at all. How many times would you drag a donkey uphill before you just leave him behind? Damn, I started this blog to make myself stay positive, to say things in such a way that I would appreciate the little things that do make the job satisfying. I did have sort of moment of clarity amidst the drunken miasma that was my afternoon class today...I was trying to make a point about Jared Diamond's theory on geographic determinism--I friggin love that book, Guns, Germs, and Steel--and stressing the association between domesticated animals and skilled workers in the society. Anyway, there were several side-conversations goin on: one group was talking in spanish, who knows what they were saying but it seemed to have their attention, another group was having a competition to see who could draw the state of Texas the most times while going over football memories--pre-probation and daily drug use apparently, a couple more had their heads down, obviously lost in thought about Diamond's theory. But, as the thought-smoke cleared and I gathered myself together to finish my point, I looked out into the battlefield and discovered 3 sets of eyes on me, inquisitive and thoughtful eyes! I heard the others less and less, inane chatter fading like the effect of my coffee this late in the day. Those 3 kiddos saved me.

I should've been a lawyer

Yes, I should've been a lawyer. I could have hung my shingle out in front of one of those cool little bungalows off of 1st or Congress, or maybe even one of those hilly neighborhoods between 6th and 12th streets downtown. I could've been a professional, dealing with adults on a daily basis, wowing judges and juries alike with my mental prowess and legal acumen. At the end of my lawyer-day, I'd come home to my lovely wife and recount the day's successes, relishing the victories to come based on the groundwork I'd laid that day; legal precedents discovered and such.

But, instead I am a teacher. I decided I would shape the lives of America's youth into the kind of person we all wanted to be. Of course they would lay before me, eager to be molded, offering their yet unformed personalities up to me as a pilgrim offers bread, willingly, no, literally begging me to impart what I had gleened from all my days on this rock.

The only truth is that I am a teacher. Nothing went as it should've. I wonder aloud at least once a week if I have any idea what I am doing, or if I should continue to do it even one more day. Of course every day I get suggestions from the kids, honest and forthright as they are: "Why do you keep talking to us," they say, or, and I do savor these moments more than I can communicate to them, "You're my favorite teacher, you make school fun." Some days the first kid's right, some days it's the second kid.