"Ms. Damron - you need a loooong vacation."

I woke up this morning and KNEW I would cry at some point. I think my before-work snapchat said something like, "...do I cry now or later?" and I texted someone else saying it's just a matter of WHEN I cry, not if.

That moment came in front of 30 kids and a substitute teacher.

In all fairness, I have cried in front of my students before. Yes, I cry when I laugh really hard, but those aren't the tears I'm talking about. I remember my first year teaching I had a particularly difficult Writing Skills class and after yet ANOTHER day where they were squirrelly and bored and overall unengaged and uncaring, I broke down in front of them and asked why they wouldn't let me teach them. I can't say it was my most shining moment, but I feel like it was a monumental moment in my understanding of teaching.
Then there was the time that I thought I had lost one of the ipads in my class set and I straight up LOST ALL CONTROL of my emotions - I was crazy girl sobbing and it wasn't pretty. I called various classrooms and re-gathered my students and asked to check their backpacks in case one of them had stolen it. Later, the ipad was found on my desk under something. To this day, my fellow teacher friends who were aware of that experience think I was just a little on the crazy side and didn't see it, but I swear it wasn't there when I initially looked for it. One of those students I pulled back into class brought that occurrence up at least every other month for the next year and a half that I had her. So yes, I've been through the whole "crying in front of your students" thing before.

This public cry was brewing about a week ago when I found out that my co-teacher [of this class] was in the ICU. It's a pretty private affair and the family doesn't want a lot of details to go around. Therefore, no one has details - which means I field questions on the daily and have been pushing through without her. Oh how I miss her. I had talked to her briefly after school on Friday and things were just normal - we were beyond relieved it was the weekend! I've never had someone close to me end up in the ICU unable to communicate and on her literal death bed. I've had quite the range of emotions, but last Monday was a dark and gloomy day for me.
Anyway, this is not the reason for this post, but any prayers you can say in her behalf would be greatly appreciated. (And while you're at it, if you could mention me, I could use aaaaallll the extra help right now.)
I knew the direction of what we were teaching for the rest of November, so I took it on myself to create lesson plans and carry on. Our math department head has been creating sub plans, but she is teaching her own classes and the sub plans are pretty basic. Plus, nothing can replace a TEACHER. The show must go on, so I have been doing my best.

Today was week 2 without her and the kids still haven't received any information. They just know she is "sick." It's not easy to be the interim teacher. Co-teachers, despite being in the room and having "equal" power with the other teacher, don't have the same kind of power. The general education teacher is the one with his/her name on the schedule. Class is held in his/her classroom. That teacher is the "teacher of record" with the content knowledge. They hold a lot of responsibility. My students respect me, but I'm not THE teacher, so it's been a difficult transition, but I still can't say that I'm in charge because no one knows what's happening. So basically I am on Survivor every day and we are just trying to get through this together. Overall, I would give the kids gold stars because they are doing a really great job.

I spent HOURS preparing for just a few lessons for this week and when I started teaching today, the class was distracted, unengaged, and in general shambles. I had to rearrange the desks because they weren't in the order they should be in, kids complained that they didn't have their notebooks (if I hear one more "I lost my notebook" story, I'm going to go buck wild on the whole operation! *name that reference*), and there were two different groups THAT WOULD NOT STOP TALKING. Holy cow. I am not a screamer or a yeller, so for about 60 minutes, I walked up to those kids or asked them to stop talking at least every 10-15 minutes. (For those of my PBIS friends, I can't say I gave precision commands with consequences - again, it's not my classroom and I don't even know where to begin with consequences with these kids...#sos.) At least I didn't scream and yell like I've seen other teachers do. I politely, but firmly asked them to take out their notebooks and take notes.

On yet another occasion of me asking them to stop talking, I was talking to one student in particular when he looked around the room and emphatically told me that he was bored - most of the class was bored. Why was I getting upset at him talking when so and so was on his phone, that kid wasn't paying attention, those kids in the back wouldn't shut up, etc. I calmly told him that I wasn't focusing on them at the moment, I was focusing on him and would he please stop talking...
I walked back up to the front and said, "Alright guys - I know that half of you are bored - maybe more than half of you, and that's okay. But I worked reeeeeeaaaallllyyy hard to think about how I can help you guys learn and practice this skill so that you guys can actually learn. I've watched you guys sit passively for months now - and it's time to take some action and consideration for your learning. Also, [and this is where it happened] I'm having a really hard time and I miss Ms. XXXX. I'm a little emotional about this because I don't know anything either, but I'm trying so hard to teach you guys and you just don't care. You won't stop talking. I don't know what to do."

Honesty. It gets me every time.

This is where one of the sweetest things I've ever seen happened. Two kids (a girl and a boy) in the very back looked at each other, nodded, then rushed up to the front and hugged me. The class did a sort of quiet cheer and told the punk kids to check themselves and STOP TALKING. It was truly the sweetest gesture and I don't think I will every forget it.

Not to put a damper on the ending of this story, but less than ten minutes later, that girl and the boy I initially talked to went at it and had to be removed from class because they almost got in a fight. There was MAJOR screaming in the hall to the point where all the other teachers in the hall stepped out of their classrooms for a second to see if everything was okay. My kids rushed to the door to watch what was happening. I had to stand in front of the door just to keep kids from forming an audience.

I guess we should trust those morning feelings when it comes to crying; still, a girl can only HOPE that she can keep things under wrap until she's in private. Maybe next time.

To end the day, one of the kids in my resource class said, "Ms. Damron, you need a looooong vacation."

You're not wrong kid, you're not wrong.

-Ms. Damron-