Some Days I'm a Diva. Some Days I'm Not.

Four years ago I spent a summer in Uganda and had to be a week-long substitute for a Ugandan fifth grade English teacher only two days after I'd started "observing" at the school.

Two years ago I did my first student teaching placement in a fourth grade classroom, pulling resources together for an integrated unit without a curriculum, and spent five weeks of it in takeover because the classroom teacher had to go on leave. 

Last year I taught second grade English in China to 36 students at a time with a confusing textbook, no copy machine, and spotty technology. 

In September I started subbing 1st-8th grade.

YOU THIINK I'D BE GOOD AT THIS SINK-OR-SWIM TEACHING STUFF BY NOW.

The last two weeks have been a roller coaster. I've never planned lessons for middle schoolers, much less middle schoolers who kind-of speak English. And I've never planned lessons with the only objective being "make them speak". 

My kids don't just have my afternoon eighty-minute class, but they have a regular English class for an hour and a half in the morning AND another SSP class in the afternoon with a Mongolian English teacher where they practice listening and reading. When added to my class, that's over four hours of English classes. A DAY. 

I'm pretty sure that if I were in their shoes, I'd be ready to drop kick Miss Love by the time I got to her class.

My high group of students is really fun. Most of them understand my regularly spoken English and listen when I ask for it.There are also less than 20 kids in that class. 

My low group of students has 22-23 students (which has fluctuated over the last two weeks as some have switched classes), mostly boys, who are already crazy from their other English classes and don't give a fart and a half that I want them to do something.

So I had some personal issues this week. 

After all my different teaching situations, my certificates and experience and senior thesis on management issues, I still feel quite inadequate at this.

I didn't sleep much this week. I had two GREAT days and two days that ended in tears.

I spent at least three hours a day planning for lessons, some of which went up in smoke as the boys in the back pummeled each other when I was looking anywhere else.

My problems really began when I let myself think

"You aren't good enough."

Which is completely different from my everyday

"You are diva and you are strong. Now, STRUT."

It's a reminder that my usual bravado is just a cover for the insecurities that will always linger.
 I really, really, REALLY want to be perfect...but I CAN'T. 
I've got to give myself some grace and wiggle room.

Which means this is probably right where I need to be.

I really like these students.
I (still, somehow) love teaching.
It'll get easier in the next couple weeks--and then it'll be over.

Doing this almost makes me want to be a middle school teacher.
I mean, with all the emotions I've been through in the last week we can really understand each other.

That, and they say ridiculous and inappropriate things like, "Why did you not go see the volleyball tournament? Hairs in girls' armpits--it was so exhibit."