The rhythmic pounding continues to drone outside the windows, each beat thundering into the classroom and bouncing off the walls and into my ears. I hear my voice cracking, but I refuse to surrender my vocal chords to the enemy. I’m in the Lord’s army, yes sir. I’m in the Lord’s army. . . I find myself screaming the words, and with the drums in the background, it really does seem like we are in the middle of a battlefield.
It’s my fourth class of the day, second grade, and it’s almost over. I can taste the delicious patties and sauce we’ll be having for lunch, but first I have to get through this song. The kids have been rowdy. I have tried everything to keep my students on task, but sometimes it seems pointless because there are drums outside and screaming children inside. Before second grade, I had first. Today one of the boys called me the P word in Spanish, the worst one. A FIRST grader! I had to send another one to the office on probably his 20th offense of the day. Even on their good days, they’re bad, but today was one of their bad days, which meant they were out of control.
12:15. I finish class with a prayer and it’s over, until tomorrow. November can’t come soon enough. Why? November is when their summer vacation starts and I will have three months of peace, well, not quite. When I finish school a different sort of chaos ensues. There is food to be served, plates to be washed, chores to be supervised, a pool to be cleaned. . . I've been here six weeks now. One minute I want to box my boys by the ears [I actually still do not completely understand this expression, but it sounds violent so I'm going to use it] and the next I've resigned myself to hugging them.
We're getting two more volunteers next Wednesday. . . and maybe one more soon after that. God is good. I will survive, even if my vocal chords take a beating and my hair falls out [I rip it out].
1 comment:
Way to hang in there and sing and hug regardless. Your posts are thoughtful and creative, good job. It makes them all the more fun to read. Was it shocking to hear them swearing? I remember in Argentina, when I was 12, I saw one kindergartner flip someone off and I was a little taken back (I don't know that expression too well, did I even say it right?), to say the least.
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