It’s teacher appreciation week.
This year has been hell.
Last week, I was asked something no teacher wants to be asked, ever. Especially when you’re innocent. My principal won’t even look me in the eye because he knows I’m innocent. I wasn’t even investigated or anything.
But just the fact that I was asked is appalling.
The look on my face said it all.
I go above and beyond for my kids, my moody middle schoolers.
But this year has been rough. I’m clawing, scratching my way to the end.
Yet I had one run into me in the hallway and beg me to write her a pass to get out of PE because they’re outside and her meds say stay out of the sun, plus blood pressure issues.
I had another needing a fidget for anxiety issues.
One of my Velcro kids, the one I was questioned about, gave me a rough time this morning and she doesn’t even know I could still be fired. Nor will she. I’m her person, the one she confides in.
Another one of mine fell asleep this morning, she never falls asleep in class. She apologized and gave me a hug. I told her she gets a pass.
They’re kids, but I still need them to learn to read.
How dare I ask them to do work lately.
Yes, I feel so appreciated. I don’t expect anything in return, but damnit, a thing you and returning my pencils would be nice.
