- In my 2nd period Math Resource class, we were discussing how big a pizza was and how many people could eat that pizza. I said, "What if they were teenage boys? They can eat a lot." The only male student in the class cleared his throat and said, "Ahem - we are called young adults."
- My 7th period Math Strategies class was beyond hysterical last year. They had me laughing on a regular basis. They also had more energy in their 7-8 bodies than should ever be allowed in a confined room. I was at the front of the classroom teaching and a student looked at me, wiggled his eyebrows, and said, "Feel the taunting power of my eyebrows!!!" I stared at him, burst out laughing, and immediately derailed the entire lesson. Every student in the room wanted to know what made Ms. Damron laugh hysterically, but the student in question loved that he had a secret with me and wouldn't tell anyone what he had done. I wasn't even sure what had happened myself. It was quite unexpected.
- On May 13, a student came up to me before class and said, "When will we stop doing things related to math?" I paused, looked at her very seriously and said, "May 26." The student scoffed at me, then walked away dejectedly. (I'm telling you - that last month was a struggle for all of us.)
- I remember a student was acting his usual ridiculously outrageous self and I gave him the teacher look. He looked at me mischievously and said, "What did I do?" I replied, "Do you want me to spell it out for you?" His innocent (and hilarious) response was, "No. I can't spell very well." I wanted to start a hashtag labeled, #spedprobs
- On another occasion, but a slightly more somber and eye opening one, I was helping this same student with his English homework. He was avoiding doing it, as usual. I said, "How can I get you to feel good about English?" His quick reply was, "Put me in a body that reads better." I think I stared at him for a few seconds because I caught a small glimpse into his view of himself. He truly felt (and knew) that he wasn't a strong reader. In his head, he figured if he could be someone else, he would be able to read better. What would it be like to have that sort of struggle? For a tiny moment, I saw himself through his eyes. I wish he could see himself through my eyes. What a different view.
I love my job. I love being a teacher. I love teaching special education. I love teaching middle schoolers. These are only a few moments in the many that make me laugh (and sometimes cry). Let's hope I do a better job of sharing these stories as they come.
-Ms. Damron-
