I have to let you know about my teaching experience here. I have quit several times over the past years and I'm currently substituting and not coming back next year. These kids are a different breed. I love them though. They are like diamonds in the rough. You have to get pass the rough exterior inorder to see the beautiful interior. My first year teaching was a MESS. I had just moved and had taught high school, so imagine being placed in a 7th grade middle school class on 93rd street with kids who don't understand your accent and are from all backgrounds. It's funny when I think about it, but my pride was sooo high that God had to humble me.
I will never forget this student I had named Christine. I was told that she was going to be in my class and the look on the teachers and principal's face should have warned me about what was coming my way. I thought there would be no problems. It's going to be okay. I was big, bold, and collected, right? Wrong! Anyway, Christine gave me all kinds of problems. My class was on the 6th floor and one day she decided to throw paper balls outside the window. She was dunking it out of the window. Now, the crazy thing is that Christine was almost 6 ft tall and in the 7th grade, so you know she didn't have control over her body and she had totally lost her mind. On another occasion, we were coming up from lunch and all of my students were on the elevator, but Christine decided to jump on the elevator like she was a wrestler and yell in my face. Oooh! I was so angry. She called me a "f----- b----" and she was pushed from the elevator. (I think I did that part.) We got to the room and I told my students to sit down and not to say a word. I was fuming! She came banging on the door like she had lost her mind (which she had!). I'm telling you it felt like a mental institution.
I opened the door and she tried to press her way in, but the principal finally came and took her away. Now, this was my first lesson about loving people when it hurts because everything in me wanted to tell her off and whip her like she was my own child. Her mom was even crazier. She told my principal that she had night mares because of me. (We had a conversation about her daughter and I tried to help her spiritually. Of course, she didn't listen.) At the end of the year, Christine was kicked out of my class room. On the last day of school, I gave my students a McDonald party and it took all of me to offer Christine some, but, I decided to show her kindness because Jesus would, and she really appreciated that. Years later, when she was 22, I saw her on the streets. She told me that she had gone to jail and was in rehab for drug abuse. My heart went out to her, but as teachers, we see our students and their behavior and try to prevent them from harm, but, no matter how much we try to prevent, their destiny is their own. We can only do so much, but they must know that they are loved despite of themselves.
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