assigned blog: mtc experience

It's horribly negative, I know.  You've just got to go with what you're feeling, though. 

In which I learn my lesson. 

As I drifted into my final semester of college, I started worrying about what I was going to do with my life.  I'd always had a thought that maybe I'd like teaching, and I'd even majored in education for a semester or so, only abandoning it because I felt like I ought to be taking more English classes.  I was part of the SMBHC, which has a service requirement.  I ended up doing some work for Ben, and really liking the idea of MTC.  Being completely aimless, and having at some point mentioned it to my mother (who remembers everything), I ended up applying and somehow getting accepted. 

I had just broken up with a long-ish-term boyfriend and moved into my folks' house at the end of the semester, so I decided to minimize the moving and stay there for the summer, as well.  As a result, I felt a bit disconnected from the rest of my class, which was amplified by my neurotic, reclusive, introspective nature.  I enjoyed summer school, the classes and the teaching, though it gave me no realistic idea of how I would do in a real school with real classes. 

I started at Jim Hill, which had just lost both Dave Molina and Jake Roth, MTC's wunderkinder.  Big shoes to fill (I didn't even start).  It wasn't completely horrible.  I don't think I cried over my students or the situation too frequently (I think.  I may have blocked some of this out), though I certainly did so a few times, at least.  The students say "scraw" for "straw" and "murk" for "milk".  Oddly enough, this has only started to annoy me lately. 

Back to the story.  I seriously thought about quitting my job and dropping out of MTC more in the last half of the year than the first, and I decided not to after the summer between my first and second years.  Don't ask me why.  I think it was the computer.  I certainly don't give two ****s about the Master's degree.  During the first half of my second year, I think maybe I was more miserable than during my first year.  Memories tend to be a bit warped, though, so who knows.  By halfway through the first semester, I was trying to figure out how I'd support myself when I quit at Christmas.  Somehow, I didn't end up doing it.  Somehow.  I'm not sure that this was a good decision. 

So.  Here we are.  Three weeks til the end of school.  Three weeks til freedom.  I think I have quite a few sick days left, and I'm thinking maybe I'll use them all.  Now, I realize that this blog post is ridiculously pessimistic, and maybe that's a byproduct of state test week, where the administration sticks the teachers in rooms with groups of students for 5-7 hour stretches.  We get our first and fifth block classes.  My first block class is about 30 kids, usually.  I've been stuck with them for 5 hours, 45 minutes so far.  I've had about ten minutes to myself to warm up my lunch and use the bathroom.  I want them to disappear.  At this point, I don't care where. 

I'm a bad teacher.  I lose my temper (more frequently lately).  I give up easily.  I'm inconsistent.  I don't follow up on things.  I'm a bad yeller (as in, my voice doesn't carry).  I frequently have the urge to smack students around.  Thankfully, I haven't acted on that one.  Yet.  At this point, it might just be a matter of time.  This is another good reason for me to use those sick days.  I often feel like I'm trying to herd chickens.  Not that I know how to herd chickens.  Once though, in my pre-vegetarian days, I helped my uncle and cousins catch someone's 4-H chickens and stuff them in crates to be butchered.  That was a piece of cake, compared to teaching. 

So, next year, I plan to have a 9-5 job where no more than a few people really depend on me each day, where I don't have to take any work home, where I speak with my superiors more than once a month, where expectations are clear-cut and reasonable, where my feet don't ache at the end of the day, and, most importantly, where there are no children at all.  None.  I mean it. 

742.  And this is supposed to be 1,200?  Shit. 

I think MTC and I were just a bad match.  I think we made each other miserable.  I think that the right person, with the right personality and the right mindset, could do very well in MTC and enjoy the experience.  Maybe one day I'll try teaching again, but I don't think it'll be next year.  No matter where I go, I'm going to be afraid that the students are going to be just like the ones I have here.  Now, to be fair, many of the students here are wonderful.  Most, even.  It's just those who aren't that I can't handle. 

MTC gave me the tools and skills necessary to be a good teacher, but I didn't use them.  I know what I should do, but I choose not to do it.  I choose not to be consistent, not to contact parents, not to keep a handle on my temper, not to make detailed lesson plans, not to ask other teachers for advice, not to stay on top of my grading, not to find an outlet for stress relief, not to get involved with my school or community, and I've survived.  Hated most minutes of it, but I've survived. 

951.  Closer. 

Hmm...  I guess I'll talk about my second summer.  I stayed with everybody else at Northgate.  (Damn it, why can't the jdfjdklsjflksdj students just close the damn door after they walk through it?  WTF?  This is not a hard task.)  I hung out with folks more often, but still felt disconnected.  This was probably all in my head.  I loved loved loved my first years (and I still do)!!!!!  Hayley, Jenn, and Parks, I <3 U.  Austin and I occasionally had some friction, and we missed Michele, but it June was a good month. 

This school year, I lived alone, and became more of a hermit than ever.  I rarely see anyone from MTC, except for Heather, since she teaches on the same hall as I do.  Most nights, I'd come home from school, change into comfy clothes (sweats/holey jeans + t-shirt), and either crash for a few hours, or sit on my stoop and try my best to forget my day.  I'm perpetually behind on grading, never make parent contact, and don't turn in lesson plans.  Hey..  At least I've not been fired.  Yet.  I stopped caring about school and about the program early on this year (not the year 2009, but this school year).  My grades reflected this.  I won't be graduating with the rest of my class, and I doubt I'll ever use this degree I'm earning, but at least I'm finishing, right? 

Reflecting, MTC was an interesting, if harrowing, experience, and I met a bunch of really neat folks that I'm glad I had the opportunity to know, but I could've done without the whole teaching bit.  I guess then I'd still be wondering if I could do it though, wouldn't I?

The End.