"Do You Like Being a Teacher?" Lawndale

Then on to Lawndale, one crazy place, to say the least, where the same cult of "They have to like you" was dominant, where the deans were so scared of setting of administration that they would not deal with real discipline problems. If they were so worried about the principal's recriminations at seeing one or two students in class on a frequent basis, then why did they not dismiss me in the first place? I was so bad at what I was doing, apparently, but the need for a placeholder for the class while the full-time teacher was out on stress leave required that someone take the class, or face the worse consequences of a different teacher in the class every day!

The fourth period class at Lawndale -- Sophomores, World History -- what a nightmare! Ha! Ha! I can laugh about the whole thing now, but day after day, what a drag!

One kid, Chris, had big teeth and always wore a baseball cap. He just loved to talk and needle me "Stop running your own program, sir!" He would intone, mocking me because that's what I used to say to the kids at juvenile hall, students who would listen to me because the probation officer on site would drag them over the coals.

"Do you like being a teacher?" No way, No way at all! I would have shouted, but a man cannot shout if he has no mountain beneath him to prop him up when the winds of circumstance and uncertainty prevail. I was so busy just going through the motions, trying to do when I had yet to learn how to be. and to be was much more than being a teacher.

Chris, Ike, Art, Pat -- Crazy folk altogether. Then there was this Vietnamese Kid, too, a really irritable type who took everything personally. I had to keep him after class so many times because liked to talk back. Paul, a roly-poly type, showed up late, then buried his head in his arms when he got in trouble. The ladies were not so bad, I guess. Some of them were the quiet types, the others just liked to talk a lot, but it was not the end of the world if I had to speak to any of them after class. Jessica was the craziest -- always talking, convinced that the other teacher was out to get her.

Justine was a religious type, but not a fanatic. She hoped that the other teacher did not come back. I was just glad that she got her work down without all the drama of the other students.

Then there was Moe. This guy liked to shout "We're all gonna die!" just for strange kicks. Weird stuff. And he was not that bad, really. He got his work done, he was helping out his Mom, who was sick with cancer.

But there was the dedicated crew of cut-ups who were out to get me riled up at every turn. Boy, if I did like being a teacher, I would have hated it then, but I was already not really sold on the whole things at that point in my "career".

The last day of my assignment at Lawndale, all craziness just broke loose. A carpenter visited the class to repair the cupboard in the back of the room. Pat went nuts, convinced that some other kids were out to get him.This guy was his own worst enemy, and it was all his fault anyway. He was always provoking people, throwing paper around the room, talking out of turn, loosing his cool whenever someone would whisper or call out his name.

This guy was a hurricane of issues, and I just told him to leave. Security arrived, and simply said, "Come on, Pat. It's time to leave." This was the routine almost every day with kids like Pat, Ike (who liked to play with his book instead of actually reading it. .go figure!)

And Chris was now in target, in my trap. I had called his parents, and Mom was getting tired of his silly shenanigans. The school office even forced him to carry around with him an itemized record of his grades and behavior in class. He was now limping into class every day, too.

I am pretty sure that he did not like being a student, and yet he asked me that day:

"Do you like being a teacher?"

Well, I was not going to give them the impression that they had won, no way at all! "Yeah, sure"

Chris continued: "I keep trying to get you mad. I want to see you lose your temper."

Ha! Ha! I had won! At the time, though, I was caught up in merely winning against the upset and the onslaught of folly and disrespect. Never did I think for one minute that my victory would pan out to where I was walking away from a job that I hated, finding the true person that I was meant to be. If those kids had not been so bad then, I would not be having it so good now! I write about what was bad, and it is so good. Talk about all things working together for good to those who love Him, who are called according to His purposed (Romans 8: 28)

"You are a good teacher!" they conceded. At the time, I was just glad to get through the day alive with some self-respect. And I threw out Ike, again -- oh well. . .

I was a good teacher, but I did not like being a teacher. No one should take on a job that he is not good in, even if he is good at it. "Good at", even if the money is good, just does not cut it.