Day Thirty-Five

For those of you just tuning in, "This Guy is Falling" follows the educational exploits of Mr. Birds-Eye, a high school teacher in his third year of teaching, traditionally the make or break year in the profession. Fearing that he has finally reached his wits end, Birds-Eye decides to write a blog in hopes that he can reboot his year by focusing on the positives of the profession.

And I'm happy to report that it's been working.


So I had an interesting experience last night (Saturday). I ran into an ex student of mine at a birthday party, or at least I think he was an ex student of mine. He told me he was. 


Why don't I know for sure (see Blog entry, Day Six)?


In short, once a student leaves your classroom. Brain wipe.


So anyway, I'm at this party for one of my wife's work friends and this kid comes up to me and says, "Do you remember me, sir?"


Sir?


Now I could have played it off and said, "Hey, man. How are you?" But I didn't.  I just looked at him and said, "From where?"


That's how oblivious I was.


It turns out I was a long term sub for this kids years ago so it was no big deal. The kid understood. After all, he had to learn six names (one teacher's name per period). I have to learn 170, and it never ceases to amaze me how easy it is to forget. I swear sometimes after a three day weekend. I'll look at a kid's paper and say, "Who is this?" 


Anyway as I chatted with this kid (19-20 years old), a couple of things started rolling around in my head. First off, the "sir" thing. I don't dig "Sir." I'm only thirty-four years old...But I'm a teacher...


So I guess I am a "Sir?"


Cold shivers race up my spine.


The next thing that bothered me were the questions I was asking this kid, things like, "Are you going to school?"


Jeez, I am a teacher!


Finally, the language I was using bothered me. 


Now inside the classroom, I very rarely curse, sometimes it happens...On accident! But never the f-bomb.


But while I talked with this kid,  I felt self conscience as I peppered the conversation with assorted f-words and such.


I mean he was smiling, but I felt horrible. This is coming from a guy who can't finish a sentence without using the f-word (hey, I love adjectives. What can I say?).


So all these uncomfortable feelings lead to one pretty obvious conclusion: 


I'm a role model.


And that in a nutshell is why I still like teaching.


Signing off.


Birds-Eye