Today was the second day of my two week student teaching practicum in a 7th grade English classroom. Twelve year olds make me tired and apparently, their acne is contagious. My usually porcelain skin is now blemished by a single adolescent-grade pimple.
I was really looking forward to this internship as I have been super complacent in my grad program – all I do it read about “best practices” and make Excel spreadsheets while my already tenuous grip on a sense of certainty that I want to teacher gets weaker. So, I've been putting a lot on this program, hoping the chance to apply all my flashy skills would rejuvenate me. First day with my mentor teacher, she tells me she wants to “get out of teaching.” I laughed to myself...of course.
I've been repeatedly asked how old I am, even asked if I'm my 33 year old mentor teacher's daughter (it's probably the pimple) and I am perpetually standing behind twelve year old boys when they say things that get movies R-ratings. I'm holding judgment – I've got a way of just acting without letting things settle – I'm giving it time.
1 comment:
I say this with caution (but can't resist the urge): 33 yr olds are brilliant- take heed young'n.
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