It took a measly two days to remember why doing the work that so many of us do makes us burn out. I care deeply for my students and essentially have invested the past eight months of my life to them. As a result, I very fairly have certain expectations of them. I know they do and will continue to make poor choices and talk back and waste my time, but at the end of the day I expect them to at least respect the space we have all worked together to build.
I've had posturing and fights in my room and school before, but I did not realize that I hadn't seen a real real fight. That is, until this past Thursday, when two of my boys truly fought. I cried (in front of my children mind you) out of shock, disappointment and fright- to see two of my children engage in that type of way brought me back to reality. All of us in this field sacrifice our happiness because there's something wrong when students stand and watch two of their peers fight without a care in the world and their teacher cries.
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