Highs and Lows

Teaching really has its moments, and by moments I mean a wide range of emotions, and by wide range of emotions I mean that there are days or even weeks where I feel like I must be manic because I just swing back and forth between such extremes.

Yesterday was one of those days. It was a factor of being the end of the year - that made everything all the more poignant. We get out of school on Thursday, and these last few days are always bittersweet. On the one hand, I'll be glad to get a break. My patience levels have been way less than usual this year, even though this is my strongest class academically that I've ever had and I've been working with a very strong, very supportive teaching partner. Perhaps, after the *extremely* challenging group I had last year, I just started out the year still somewhat drained and never quite recovered. But on the other hand, I'll be sad to see these 49 kids go. They are an endearing mix of personalities - even the quiet ones are quiet in a unique, interesting way. As a group, they've been incredible in their reading improvements and I'm very confident that a huge percentage of them will score proficient or advanced on the state test in math.

When I woke up and turned the shower on, extremely cold water came out and continued to come out. The water heater wasn't working. The pilot light had gone out.

I figured out how to turn it on, with enough time before school that I was able to get a lukewarm shower rather than a Guatemala-like one.

School starts. 3 kids come late. One kid inexplicably thinks he can get up and get water as the bell rings, as if the previous 177 days of school hadn't taught him otherwise. A third of my kids haven't done their homework.... AGAIN. These are battles I fight every single day. It's the end of the year and I'm tired and I just want to enjoy our last few days together but they're making it impossible because I'm too stubborn to bend my rules or lower my expectations for these last few days and so I have to yell and hyperbolically accuse them of as a group of not wanting to excel, not wanting to be the future leaders of America, not wanting to put in the work it takes to become an educated person, of allowing so many kids in their class to get away with these behaviors.

We have the first ever 5th grade spelling bee. Spelling champions from each of the five fifth grade classes competed in an English bee and a Spanish bee. Of the six spelling trophies (1st, 2nd, and 3rd in English, and same in Spanish), my kids won five of them. It's all the more remarkable because my kids, who are as you know in our bilingual track and receive half their daily instruction in English and half in Spanish, won all three English trophies, despite competing against 7 kids from our English only track who've been learning only in English all day, ever day, for their entire schooling career. I was so proud of them, and they were so proud of themselves. They really cared - and the class really cared. This group I had just been laying into an hour earlier about how they had too little desire, too weak of a work ethic, had wanted to show me that my efforts all year weren't wasted. N. said, "Aren't you proud of me, Mr. Evans? Aren't you going to give me a hug?" I said yes, and I did.

I found out that the grandmother of one of my past students died two days ago. He was orphaned at an early age when his parents died, in separate incidents, from drug abuse. His grandma adopted him and was one of the most loving, caring, involved parents I've ever had the pleasure of working with. She was famous for her brownies, and she made them several times just for me and I didn't even have to share. She also invited me over for dinner on several occasions, just because she was nice, but also because she wanted a male role model around for her grandson as he entered adolescence. I want to call him, but I have no idea what to say.