Touching a Teacher’s Nerve

I received the COVID vaccination booster shot in about a month ago. About a day after I received the shot, the area around the injection point was sore and tender. You could have walked up to me and punched me in the right arm and I would have been fine, but simply touch that one spot on my left arm and I would have flinched, whined, and grimaced in pain. I guess you could say that I was a bit touchy about it.

The other day I was guest teaching in a class that I’ve subbed for quite a bit. I know the students and they know me. As I say, I know the suspects and the prospects. In the classroom next door to mine their was commotion, laughter, and loud conversation. It was apparent that a number of students were taking the opportunity to disrupt the classroom environment because there was a substitute teacher there. The noise was amplified because of the class I was teaching at the time who are usually on task and…get ready for it…quiet! Some of them were looking with dismay at one another as the next-door volume was resembling of an 80s boombox echoing through the walls of an apartment complex. Like the sore spot from my booster shot, it touched a nerve with me.

The instructor returned from the early morning appointment she had, to teach the rest of the day. She is an awesome teacher who doesn’t put up with such behavior. She filtered out the students who were on task from the ones who were clogging up the class and administered appropriate penalties.

But they had touched a nerve in me! Each class I had the rest of the day I talked about disrespect, taking advantage of the situation, and the need to become more mature. The interesting thing is that the day before I had put my wise saying of the day on the screen that said, “Self-control is the discipline to do what needs to be done now in order to be able to do what I want to do later.”

Perhaps getting my dander up was a ripple effect of the guilt I still carry with me about the problems i caused my substitute teachers back a few decades ago. My diatribe might be a form of penance for causing some serious grey hair production. I can still remember the disrespectful things we did to my high school Spanish teacher. They were an indication of the fallen nature of mankind.

But, on the positive, yesterday each of my classes were well-mannered. They even, I assume, learned some American History!

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