Why I do what I do
Bob Johns looks just like an ordinary citizen. He shops at the grocery store, pays his taxes, and watches all the local sports. He is just one of the guys who will blend into the crowd with ease. His job goes along with this as well. Bob Johns is a Math teacher.
Bang. I fell out of bed as my 5 a.m. alarm went off. “Why did I choose this job?” I groaned to my. “Just why?” I muttered. It was just another Monday and my first class started at 7:50 in the morning. Waking up that early isn’t the bad part about though. The kicker is that I live an hour from the school. This alone isn’t the only reason that I don’t like my job; that information is to come in the future.
Every day starts in pretty much the same manner. I roll out of bed, take a shower, then jump in the car for the hour ride to the school. When I get there it is about 7:30 in the morning. Early enough that I have time to prep for the first class but late enough that there is already a line of students with questions about the homework, quiz, etc.…I answer each question to the best of my abilities but sometimes it’s just too much.
You see all I have to do is get through this one class. It’s all that I teach. Once it’s done, my day is over. The problem though is that my one math class contains all of the school’s worst students. But hey that what you get for teaching Algebra one at a high school. If I make it through these 50 minutes without a breakdown it’s a good day.
As I was saying this day was like most of the others. I start class promptly at 7:55 as normal. And as is the standard of my students, only about half were there at that time so the class really ended up getting going around 8:10, a quarter hour later. Then began the usual misbehaviors that occurred during my class as I tried to teach the material. Spitballs, yelling, and a small scuffle. Each time I would raise my voice and say “hey stop that” or “one more time and you’re going down to the principal’s office”. However, this was to no avail.
By the time that it hit 8:45 I had covered roughly half of the day’s material. It didn’t matter though. Most of these kids weren’t going to graduate from high school let alone pass my class. So I said my goodbye and left. On this day like many others I spend the hour drive wondering why I do this every day. I always tell myself that even though most of my students are destined for nothing, I do this for the one student in my class who will amount to something. I don’t know who this student is, but there is always one. As long as that student is there, I will be too.