Spring semester babysitting
Grades have now been posted. I am happy for the most part. Two As, a C and a lost cause. The lost cause had been lost for a long time, I accept it and take my lumps for it. Life goes on, and things won't be any better or worse than they were before. It is the one A, however, that gives me pause and shall be the object of reflection.
On the first day of said class (whose name I will not name publically because I AIN'T CRAZY), the teacher did not show up. The famous fifteen minute rule was applied. I asked the fourty some people in the room to not simply walk away, but to take this piece of paper I had ripped out of my notebook, sign it with a "We were here" type note, then have someone deliver it to the English department. Afterward we got an email titled "Yikes!" with a blast note from the teacher with some excuse as to why she did not show that day. This, however, set the tone for the rest of the class's duration. A red flag? Yes it was, but, as we all know, there are things in life that we just have to sweat through for whatever reason, and this was one of them.
It became clear that she had little to no plan. Or if she did, she did not follow it much. I flashed back to the all time worst teacher I have ever had (since in all education classes they seem to like to hear these stories), which was in 12th grade English class. The teacher we would've otherwise had took part in an exchange program, so she moved away to England for a year and, in turn, we got a teacher who was from England. It became clear within the first few days, if not hours, that she had little to no semblence of a plan. Several asked to be transfered into the Honors English class, but we were denied. We had not, according to the department, taken Honors English the year before so we were not prepped and ready for said challenge. Another who had taken Honors English the year before asked to be transfered, and was allowed. We were left to literally rot in our own filth the entire year, probably reading three books the whole year. It's one thing if you start on one thing, conversations wane and you end up talking about something else entirely, but there were some days that we sat there drooling all over ourselves. She literally asked us at some point "So, what should we do now?" I was like "You're asking ME?" We all passed because it wasn't our fault, we tried to tell them in the beginning, but it fell on deaf ears. Ah well.
It was once again a situation similar. If nothing else she got some people talking, but often times it would be about things not related to the materials. My textbook didn't come from the Amazon seller, they sent a 7th grade science textbook instead. I returned the item to the sender, but I never got the proper textbook. Amazon refunded me. Second red flag. After the third week, I resigned myself that this is/was glorified babysitting, so while in class I was hard at work doing things for other classes, indulging in creative writing, and even wrote a poem or two. In all, I ended up barely reading anything that didn't come directly off of Wikepedia or even watching a movie on YouTube.
At the end of the class, however, we were asked to give a brief reflection on what we have learned, what we can say about ourselves as a learner, and to tell her what grade we deserved. It was disconserting to see that she was making it up as she wrote it on the blackboard before us. I was the first one done, I wrote something about experiences in life, that I am a non traditional learner, and that I deserved an A. When I went outside, heading out to go home for a much deserved long nap, I saw the teacher outside. Despite my disappointments or personal feelings, I take the time out to give the teacher the small courtesy of saying thank you and shaking their hand. She stopped me for a second, asking why I was taking this class. True, this was not the type of horror story for the 100 levels with constant texting, laughing and chatting, but I told her the truth. This was a requirement for the education Middle Language Arts cirruculum. She said she wanted me to come and take part in her Children at Risk program, which she was still organizing. I said I had the solution that she needed - a can of mace in one hand, a piece in the other, cop face, and then you become Officer Simone (a legend in Cleveland law enforcement). Because everyone knows that Office Simone don't take shit from NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO Body! She was still laughing when I left. And I got the A.
On the first day of said class (whose name I will not name publically because I AIN'T CRAZY), the teacher did not show up. The famous fifteen minute rule was applied. I asked the fourty some people in the room to not simply walk away, but to take this piece of paper I had ripped out of my notebook, sign it with a "We were here" type note, then have someone deliver it to the English department. Afterward we got an email titled "Yikes!" with a blast note from the teacher with some excuse as to why she did not show that day. This, however, set the tone for the rest of the class's duration. A red flag? Yes it was, but, as we all know, there are things in life that we just have to sweat through for whatever reason, and this was one of them.
It became clear that she had little to no plan. Or if she did, she did not follow it much. I flashed back to the all time worst teacher I have ever had (since in all education classes they seem to like to hear these stories), which was in 12th grade English class. The teacher we would've otherwise had took part in an exchange program, so she moved away to England for a year and, in turn, we got a teacher who was from England. It became clear within the first few days, if not hours, that she had little to no semblence of a plan. Several asked to be transfered into the Honors English class, but we were denied. We had not, according to the department, taken Honors English the year before so we were not prepped and ready for said challenge. Another who had taken Honors English the year before asked to be transfered, and was allowed. We were left to literally rot in our own filth the entire year, probably reading three books the whole year. It's one thing if you start on one thing, conversations wane and you end up talking about something else entirely, but there were some days that we sat there drooling all over ourselves. She literally asked us at some point "So, what should we do now?" I was like "You're asking ME?" We all passed because it wasn't our fault, we tried to tell them in the beginning, but it fell on deaf ears. Ah well.
It was once again a situation similar. If nothing else she got some people talking, but often times it would be about things not related to the materials. My textbook didn't come from the Amazon seller, they sent a 7th grade science textbook instead. I returned the item to the sender, but I never got the proper textbook. Amazon refunded me. Second red flag. After the third week, I resigned myself that this is/was glorified babysitting, so while in class I was hard at work doing things for other classes, indulging in creative writing, and even wrote a poem or two. In all, I ended up barely reading anything that didn't come directly off of Wikepedia or even watching a movie on YouTube.
At the end of the class, however, we were asked to give a brief reflection on what we have learned, what we can say about ourselves as a learner, and to tell her what grade we deserved. It was disconserting to see that she was making it up as she wrote it on the blackboard before us. I was the first one done, I wrote something about experiences in life, that I am a non traditional learner, and that I deserved an A. When I went outside, heading out to go home for a much deserved long nap, I saw the teacher outside. Despite my disappointments or personal feelings, I take the time out to give the teacher the small courtesy of saying thank you and shaking their hand. She stopped me for a second, asking why I was taking this class. True, this was not the type of horror story for the 100 levels with constant texting, laughing and chatting, but I told her the truth. This was a requirement for the education Middle Language Arts cirruculum. She said she wanted me to come and take part in her Children at Risk program, which she was still organizing. I said I had the solution that she needed - a can of mace in one hand, a piece in the other, cop face, and then you become Officer Simone (a legend in Cleveland law enforcement). Because everyone knows that Office Simone don't take shit from NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO Body! She was still laughing when I left. And I got the A.
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