Children as Bosses

Six months as an English and art teacher have made me realize something. While I formally answer to the executive director Judy, or Principal Dara, I mostly answer to the kids. As a teacher, my professional bosses are those that manage the school, but I would argue that my true bosses are my students. Without my students, I'm out of a job, much like a celebrity is nothing without his or her fans. The students have the power to turn a class into a power-hour jam packed with learning and fun; or an excruciating hour of headaches and frustration during which the clock seems to be frozen in time.

This dynamic became especially clear to me today when one of the students asked me to sign her name on the social program sign-up sheet, since karate class was about to start. One of the other students noticed I was signing her up, and asked me if I would be joining. After starting my digital art class, I am at the school seven days a week, and was greatly looking forward to the public holiday during which the social program would be held.

Instead of giving her an excuse, I told her the truth that I was planning on using that day for relaxing. Upset, she repeatedly yelled "You don't want to join with us!" as she stormed out the front door. From this little encounter I learned something about children. They don't give a shit about your problems. Not one. They don't care if you're sick. If you're tired. If you work seven days a week or even eight for that matter. Kids lack the experience necessary to understand things from an adult's point of view, and generally lack appreciation.

No matter what Sydney and I do for them, it never feels like enough. The kids don't realize how much work went into acquiring the computers for the digital art lab, so it can be aggravating when they complain about them being a tad slow, or when I catch one of them watching YouTube. The lack of appreciation at times can be difficult, as the kids just want more, more, and more.

As I left the school this morning the last thing I remember was that girl's disappointed eyes looking back at me, trying to figure out why I said I wouldn't be joining on Wednesday. So now I am torn. Do I stay at home and enjoy what will effectively be my last day off until April, or spend it with a bunch of yelling screaming kids I see every single day? Either way, I hope my bosses don't fire me.