Personal responsibility: fact v.myth
I had to let this one go for a day.
Yesterday I had one sculpture class and one painting class. The sculpture class went okay, because the girl with an aide was having a good day and was receptive to our suggestions. The painting class was quite productive, but when it came time to clean up, the two eighth graders started grab-assing, just sort of pretending to be cleaning. We work in a split room with a three-quarters division. The sinks are in the other half of the room, so I sent them to clean out their brushes while I put things in the supply closet. ( I know from experience that I can't trust them to put things away responsibly, but I make a point of showing them exactly how to clean brushes on the first day of class. I am the self-proclaimed Brush Nazi.) In the ninety or so seconds that it took me to put the supplies in the closet, these two jackasses got into a paint fight. As I walked in to get some paper towels, my sociopathic pseudo-boss came in. She saw the paint on the floor and the two idiots and began to publicly ream me a new one. She said, "See what happened because you weren't supervising them properly?" Incensed, I replied, " They aren't eight-year-olds. I shouldn't have to hover over them." She said, "They're kids. You need to be watching them. I know kids." (Bear in mind, this is all taking place in front of them, because this dumb bitch would rather power trip than show a modicum of professionalism.)
Oh, I see. My years of pedagogical training and teaching experience are trumped by...what? Your presumed rapport with these kids? I got news for ya, Psycho: they tell you what you want to hear because they want to avoid friction with you. They lie to you, like your own (mean and phony) children lie to you. In fact, everyone wants to avoid confrontations with you, because you are irrational and condescending and there is no reasoning with you. You feed into these kids' lack of personal responsibility by absolving them of it. Your value system is twisted and is entirely based upon keeping up appearances. You would rather see the baldfaced pretense of a so-called Good Person than a nonconformist who challenges the popular hypocrisy.
And the perpetrators? I lost my cool and snarled at them, hovering over them until they had cleaned every speck of paint. I betrayed them, but I felt betrayed as well. I understand now that virtually all of these kids have no sense of personal responsibility, and that many of them never will. This bizarre permissiveness/hypocrisy is the norm in this town, and as long as they don't ever leave it'll fly. It is the reason that you can blatantly break the law as long as you're friendly with the local cops and go to church on Sunday, but we've been pulled over three times in two years for going two miles over the speed limit or not coming to a complete stop. GET ME OUT OF HERE. GET ME OUT OF TEACHING. GET ME OUT OF INTERACTIONS WITH LOCAL IDIOTS.
Yesterday I had one sculpture class and one painting class. The sculpture class went okay, because the girl with an aide was having a good day and was receptive to our suggestions. The painting class was quite productive, but when it came time to clean up, the two eighth graders started grab-assing, just sort of pretending to be cleaning. We work in a split room with a three-quarters division. The sinks are in the other half of the room, so I sent them to clean out their brushes while I put things in the supply closet. ( I know from experience that I can't trust them to put things away responsibly, but I make a point of showing them exactly how to clean brushes on the first day of class. I am the self-proclaimed Brush Nazi.) In the ninety or so seconds that it took me to put the supplies in the closet, these two jackasses got into a paint fight. As I walked in to get some paper towels, my sociopathic pseudo-boss came in. She saw the paint on the floor and the two idiots and began to publicly ream me a new one. She said, "See what happened because you weren't supervising them properly?" Incensed, I replied, " They aren't eight-year-olds. I shouldn't have to hover over them." She said, "They're kids. You need to be watching them. I know kids." (Bear in mind, this is all taking place in front of them, because this dumb bitch would rather power trip than show a modicum of professionalism.)
Oh, I see. My years of pedagogical training and teaching experience are trumped by...what? Your presumed rapport with these kids? I got news for ya, Psycho: they tell you what you want to hear because they want to avoid friction with you. They lie to you, like your own (mean and phony) children lie to you. In fact, everyone wants to avoid confrontations with you, because you are irrational and condescending and there is no reasoning with you. You feed into these kids' lack of personal responsibility by absolving them of it. Your value system is twisted and is entirely based upon keeping up appearances. You would rather see the baldfaced pretense of a so-called Good Person than a nonconformist who challenges the popular hypocrisy.
And the perpetrators? I lost my cool and snarled at them, hovering over them until they had cleaned every speck of paint. I betrayed them, but I felt betrayed as well. I understand now that virtually all of these kids have no sense of personal responsibility, and that many of them never will. This bizarre permissiveness/hypocrisy is the norm in this town, and as long as they don't ever leave it'll fly. It is the reason that you can blatantly break the law as long as you're friendly with the local cops and go to church on Sunday, but we've been pulled over three times in two years for going two miles over the speed limit or not coming to a complete stop. GET ME OUT OF HERE. GET ME OUT OF TEACHING. GET ME OUT OF INTERACTIONS WITH LOCAL IDIOTS.
spoken by Sister Morpheme at 8:35 AM
1 Rants:
Have you considered creating a fake internet identity for the Sociopath? And her own blog on which she would blog about things the sociopath would never publicly admit to but possibly obsesses about. Kinky sex. Sacrilege. Humping her flying monkeys on altars beneath religious statuary. I'd say, then out her, but that might not be necessary. Internet searches for employee blogging is standard.
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