Friday, July 15, 2011

I survived the first week of model school. Barely, but it still counts. I can’t tell you how appreciative and thankful I am for the teachers I had in my life after going through this week. I’ve never had the urge to beat a child until my pitiful attempt at teaching computers in French. Don’t worry no punches thrown. Even though I doubt any of you read this blog, I’d like to take the time to thank all of the teachers I have had from preschool to college. In fact I think I’ll take the time to write a little bit about each. Oh you don’t like that idea? Well too bad because this is my blog. Without further adieu:

Preschool; Mrs. Light- I can’t remember much about this time period, but I’ve seen the pictures and know I rocked a mullet with a yellow turtleneck and plaid pants. Thank you for not judging my fashion sense and teaching me “Big Black Cat.”

Kindergarten; Mrs. Widman- I advanced to the land of finger paints, milk pouches and story time. Thank you for putting up with us while we probably sat in tiny chairs and caused a ruckus.

1^st Grade; Mrs. Wisda- You used to fall asleep a lot during class and after creating lesson plans for class I can see why. You were very kind even to the point where I graduated high school. I hope that I still feel warm and cuddly towards these kids after four weeks. Probably not.

2^nd Grade; Mrs. Radke- Not gonna lie, I thought Mrs. Hoffman was a babe and was pretty bummed when I found out they were splitting our class up and I didn’t get her class. Nevertheless, at least you put your genius son in the other class so I could still feel like I had some intelligence in our class. You are the principal of HTS now and my cousins go there so if you happen to read this, try not to take it out on them. I’ll be back in two years and you can rage on me all you want. I’ll probably cuss you out in some Cameroonian village language and we’ll both feel better.

3^rd Grade; Mrs. Garrett- I don’t remember much about this grade except that I know I got my first C in your class. Thank you for bringing me back down to earth and not living in the world of perpetual brown nosers. No one likes a know-it-all.

4^th Grade; Mrs. Shirley- You were really tall and I kind of remember having a crush on you at that age. Probably a good thing you went to Galion before things got weird. I can also remember you being extremely nice so I need to remember your patience in class next week. 

5^th Grade; Mrs. Blue- I won’t slander you all across the Internet, but I don’t think that you were very nice to us and I am entitled to that opinion. You made my dad cut my bangs. After the mullet, it was probably the worst haircut besides when I decided to cut my own bangs. In fact, it kind of looked like that. Still love ya Dad, even if you can’t cut hair ;).

6^th Grade; Mrs. Faulds- Again, I have more bad things to say then good, but I won’t make you an overnight sensation (since I’m sure Entertainment Tonight is checking my blog for updates). I do know, however, that you not only threatened to mow our class down with a machine gun, but also that you would beat us with one of our classmates’ crutches. And you wonder why us Catholic school kids are so warped.

7^th Grade; Ms. Heckert- I don’t have much to complain about you and the only thing that sticks out in my mind is when Ian threw his rocket and it drilled you right in the chest. Bad move on his part, but maybe even worse that you allowed us to put makeup on him and walk him around the entire school. Again, are you trying to create sociopaths? Luckily, Ian turned out to be a pretty cool dude and I hope to catch a Two Cow Garage show with him when I return stateside. I’m also gonna make a special amendment and add that my 7^th grade basketball coach, Joe Williams, made a big impression in my life that year as well. I wore high red socks and I was as uncoordinated as a teenager could be, but you believed in me on the court and I probably never told you how much that meant to me. You worked with me on my clumsy hands, you taught me to use my giant feet to my advantage, and I went from being allowed one dribble to bringing it up from half court. You didn’t want me to go to the middle school because you knew that the potential to fall into a bad crowd was there. You are gone now, but never forgotten Joe. I always enjoyed getting to talk with you even after I graduated and I’ve even got to play against Toad in a few open gyms this past summer. I promise that if he is still in Bucyrus when I return I will work with him on his game and try to help him through the difficult transition of adolescence. I owe you at least that much.

8^th Grade; Multiple teachers- This was the year I went from Holy Trinity to public school, Bucyrus Middle School. I still stayed close with my HTS buddies, but I was probably already closer with my dudes at BMS. A few guys even followed me from HTS to “the sin bin” as Joe affectionately called it. There isn’t a single teacher that sticks out to me, but I know for a fact that this is where I began forming the friendships that will last a lifetime for me. Tizzle and I were finally in the same grade since they decided to redshirt him for his academic prowess despite his exceptional grades in class ;). Masa and I met in 7^th grade at football camp and the CC fair with Powers, and we became best friends this year. I grew up with Powers on Spring St. and Dunford through minor league baseball and our family being friends and I was reunited with both at BMS. Rebon was my inside linebacker bash brother and I have a line that I love to say about Rebon, but Grandma reads these blogs so I’ll just say that I would trust Rebon alone with any girl I was with, no questions asked. C-Gull, Phildough, the list goes on and on…I’m sure there are many left out, but this headlamp is starting to get tight on the ol’ noggin’.

High school; Mrs. Fischer, Mrs. Hamm, Frenchie, Funi- You guys were the four teachers that stuck out in my mind about high school. Fee you opened my horizons to appreciating other cultures and realizing that there is a gigantic world beyond the limits of Crawford County. Mrs. Hamm, we were all little jerks to you and I can’t even pretend to imagine how you put up with us. I will think of you when I can’t stand my teenage class that I am currently teaching. Frenchie, my French is still pretty awful and I apologize for copying off Allie in class to get a passing grade and not paying more attention. I also find it pretty crazy that you also looked into the Peace Corps and even offered a spot in Francophone Africa. Funi, you let me realize that education doesn’t have to be so cut and dry and that you can actually enjoy class projects and interactive participation. I’m pretty sure I only have two to three computers at post, but will try and make the most of it.

College; Mr. Moe,Video Games Professor, and History of Rock N’ Roll Professor- I never really got close to any of my college professors, but Professor Moe might have been the closest. I was at a time in my life when all I wanted to do was get out of Bucyrus, OH, and you made me realize all the qualities that I despised about Bucyrus, but also all of the things that made it so damn amazing to me. I find this reflection hilarious now as I sit here in bed at times and just wish I was back home with my parents in my small town. Ridiculous how perspective works isn’t it? To Video Games Professor and History of Rock N’ Roll Professor: You are basically the same person, but you let me see that it is possible to do what you love and to turn others on to it. I might not know what I want to do after Peace Corps, but I’ll be damned if it’s going to be something where I hate waking up every morning to go to a place I can’t stand to be at.

I’m sorry if that bored you all, but I felt like I had to get it off my chest after the week I have just had. The week definitely got better from the first day of teaching, but I still feel like I’m a pretty crappy teacher. I think it is just a lot of frustration on both sides from the lack of communication. I don’t speak French well and they can’t understand me. They ask questions and I can’t understand them. Only three more weeks, a grain of sand on the beach that is time.

We had an interesting talk tonight among the few trainees at the cold bar beer. We talked about how your level of success in the states is directly correlated to the amount of money you make and how people perceive you. I’ve debated this point with my friends countless times. I understand that it is hard to be happy when you are scrounging pennies for your next meal. All I am saying is that the amount of money you have does not translate to the amount of happiness you receive from life. Sure you can buy nice things and treat yourself to facials made from gold flecks, but are you truly happy? I know for a fact that all I need in this life are my friends, family, and a job consistent enough to put a roof over my head and food on the table. Down the road I’d like to start a family and find a woman as weird as me, but if it doesn’t happen I’d say I’ve been truly blessed regardless. I miss you all back home, but am enjoying finding myself in another world and adapting to my surroundings. We’re having a July birthday party tomorrow so I will drink one for you Mamacita.

Hope you can feel the love from here,

MMM