Tuesday

I am no teacher.

Sure, I masquerade all day in the requisite skirt and blouse, with homework sheets piled under one arm and workbooks in the other hand but... I am no teacher.

But, you learn. I've learned. In all honesty, for me teaching has never demanded a similar intellectual intensity to my years spent slaving away at University. However, I've found that some days have the effect of an emotional battering ram.

Some days the students love me, some days there's not much I can do to keep them from acting like deranged monsters. Nevertheless, now that it has been six months (unbelievable), most of my students and I have worked out an easy medium. Sure, there are the ones whom I love to death and then the ones that require a bit more effort...but with most of them I seem to have a relatively smooth and uncomplicated relationship.

Except for this one group of M2 (8th grade) boys.

At first I was sweet teacher, then I was pissed-off teacher. I ran the gamut of personalities and emotions but they have remained hellions. As a result, over the last few weeks of classes, I've done something that the teachers I have most admired and cared for would never do... I gave up on them. I quit pushing, I quit trying to make them better, quit caring if they learned...if they passed...if they understood. Other than the occasional censure, I carried on with that class as if they never existed.

I am not a teacher. I lack whatever that spark is that allows for one to press on in the face of disrespect and non-compliance.

Tuesday.

For a second, while the other students were busy at work, my haze of apathy was split when I noticed that one of the Hellions was cradling a football underneath his feet...an American football (which is almost non-existent here in Thailand...they don't even show the games in pubs here but they show rugby... go figure). I motioned over with my head towards the ball and the conversation kind of went like this...

Me: So...I see you have a football.
Hellion #1: Yes
Me: So...you play football?
Hellion #1: Yes
Me: American football? (duh Star...)
Hellion #1: Yes
Hellion #2: Me too Teacher.
Me: Really? So...where'd you learn to play?
Hellion #2: America (what a smart kid)
Me: Hmm... any good?
Hellion #1 & #2: No/Yes (they glare at each other)
Me: So...can you throw the ball?
Hellion #1: Yes
Me: I mean like a spiral (demonstrate with finger)...not just throw it.
Hellion #2: (attempts to toss it to the boy behind him.... badly) *quick laugh* no...
Me: ah...pity (haze slipping back on...head turning back towards the desk)
Hellion #1: Teacher Star, can you play?
Me: Me? Oh, I love football, plus I have family in the NFL.
Hellion #2 & 3 & 4: Ooooohhh
Hellion #1: (pause...quick conference with the other boys) Teacher Star, okay I throw it to you.
Me: Say wha?
Hellion #1: I throw it to you okay?
Me: ...
Entire class: Come on Teacher Star
Me: erm...okay, one throw (walk slowly to corner diagonal to student)
Hellion #1: (throws it...quite a beautiful spiral)
***The class is quite enthralled at this point, they go even more insane when I actually catch the thing***
Me: hmm...not bad, here you go (I send back a gorgeous throw...silent thanks to my brother and all of those childhood, nighttime games of touch football)
***The classroom roars...there's no work being done today now***
***We toss the ball back and forth a couple of times, throwing it just a little bit harder and faster each time, until finally, Hellion #1 throws it too high and it ends up ricocheting against several walls***

At this point, I run back to my desk and everyone settles in as if nothing had happened. Thirty seconds later, the teacher from the next room peeks her head in (taking in my *hard-working and silent* children) and asks me if everything is alright and if the children are behaving. I struggle not to laugh and manage to convince her that I hit my chair against the wall when I last stood up. She leaves and the students peek up from their books, their gazes caught between mirth and wariness... obviously waiting for a sign as to how they are meant to react to the debacle.

I smile. I giggle.

The class erupts into conversation. Numerous hands cup imaginary footballs and sail them across the room, re-creating the day's momentary, unexpected adventure. But eventually, the Hellions are back in their pack, inattentive and isolated from the remainder of the classroom. But just before I settle into my seat, they glance back at me. I meet their gaze. They smile. I smile back.

Bbbbrrrring. That's it for class today. See you next week.