There comes a time in one's professional career when one has to fight the overwhelming urge to punch someone. Usually, this is the sentiment I experience when faced with a colleague who does everything within his or her power to avoid doing his or her job... But not today. Today, my bile is directed towards a poor, innocent, cute little 9th grader. What an evil teacher I am...
He's not a really bad kid, by any means... I do not fear for my life or my money, but I have grave concerns about my anger management and level of sanity. Here is one example of our first one-on-one encounter on Friday:
TeacherLady: So... How did your first homework assignment go?
WannabePunchingBag: I didn't do it.
TeacherLady: Fine. Not a good start. Take out a piece of paper and get started. The assignment is a letter describing your summer vacation to your English teacher.
WannabePunchingBag: I didn't do anything. I just played soccer.
TeacherLady: Okay, tell her about that.
He proceeds to write "All I did was play soccer." He then starts to put his pencil away.
TeacherLady: You're going to have to say more than that. It's a letter, not a memo. Tell her what position you played. Were you any good? Did you meet any new friends? Did you injure yourself? What kind of successes or failures did you have? Do you intend to continue playing?
He shrugged. Then complained about the assignment. Complained about having to write it. Complained that he wasn't in English as a Second Language class anymore. It took half an hour. Ten minutes of that time was spent trying to get a straight answer from him regarding where he had been prior to here. He said he had lived in Mexico, then said that wasn't true. Then said it was. Then said it wasn't. Then said it was, but it was NEW Mexico. Then he said he was just kidding, it was Mexico. Then he said he'd never been to Mexico in his life.
I got four more sentences out of him. I was near tears.
The following Monday (today), I came close to screaming in his face.
TeacherLady: Did you do the English homework?
TeacherLady: This really is not a good start. I can only help you to a certain point, but if you don't help yourself... (Blah blah blah, I give the usual spiel.)
WannabePunchingBag: I'm only kidding. I did it.
TeacherLady: Why do you do that? It's not funny. All it does is waste..
WannabePunchingBag: I was kidding again. I didn't do it.
WannabePunchingBag: I did do it. I did. I did do it. Just kidding... But I didn't do it.
TeacherLady: Okay, stop talking. I've stopped caring.
Okay, so I didn't say that last part, but it was what I was thinking. He actually went back and forth more times than I bothered to transcribe in this post. It has to be the single most irritating habit any of my students have ever possessed. I'd rather go to a karaoke party with Bjork and listen to her do covers of my favorite Beatles songs.
I don't know how I'm going to last the whole year without crying then punching him in the face... Then taking a time machine back in time to prevent his parents from moving to our state from wherever the hell they came from. I bear no grudge against his family, but they need to start warning people about their son because it could prevent some serious bodily harm and career jeopardy.