Semester 1 complete

We finished our first semester today. It has to get easier, right? Well, for anyways, we are free for 2 weeks. I made sure we are free for 2 weeks by staying until 4:00 even though we could have left at 1:00. That really overjoyed David. It even made sure we were there at 3:00 when the fire alarm went off, and all the other staff were gone, so it fell to me to coordinate with the fire fighters and the electricians. (No fire, just faulty wires. I felt weirdly authoritative, though, greeting the fire truck. Authoritative mixed with ridiculous, since sometimes people think I'm in high school myself.)

Tonight we watched Me and Earl and the Dying Girl, a movie based on a book that I got an advanced copy of from an English professor giving away books. The book was mostly hilarious and a little touching. The movie was mostly touching and a little hilarious. Which has now put me in this odd mood. Which is why I decided to blog on my first free night.

There's this scene in the movie where the protagonist Greg gets in a fight with another kid in the cafeteria, and all the kids gather around, and some of them get out their phones to film. That reminded me of Tuesday morning in my class, where the kids were gushing with news of a fight the night before between a classmate and a kid in another class. The classmate kid wasn't in school that day. Didn't want to show his face. And all the other kids were upset no one had filmed the fight.

Next day he ate lunch in David's room.
Yesterday he ate lunch in my room.
Today he skipped (along with half the students).

I don't think all teenagers are terrible. There are some very sweet kids in that class. And the kid with the black eye is not somehow morally superior. But why do we do this? Are we terrible or just shallow?

Of course, yesterday the same kid hid under a table to avoid talking to a girl who thinks she's dating him, but he's not interested in. One moment I was talking to him, and the next he was just under the table. Ah, high school intrigue. Apparently he's tried to text her to tell her he's not into her, but she didn't get the message, so he was trying to get other students to go tell her for him.

So anyways, now I'm lying under this giant pile of blankets, because for some unknown reason we won't heat our apartment above 50. Next to me there's a pile of Ferrero Rochers and Ferrero Rocher wrappers, because there were boxes of the chocolates in the gift bags we got from school today. The most classic other item in the gift bag was an MSE combination bottle opener, measuring tape, and flashlight. I can now add that to my collection of MSE-logoified items of a sweatshirt, mug, and toiletry travel bag. At this point David would want me to point out that he already found a use for the mystery tool in measuring some distance on his classroom wall to hang his periodic table.

In babysitting duty this morning (half day) I led the kids in playing spoons and handed out donuts, and when we finished, as I bribed some kids to clean up with more donuts, they blasted music and danced around. And then tried to boycott moving into their next class by blocking the door with desks so I couldn't make them leave.

Earlier this week a girl told me, "Yours is the only class I look forward to every day." Make the other 79 students worth it?

Also earlier this week, I told this kid to sit down and do his work, and he cussed at me, so I wrote him up, and he got a suspension. My old roommate asked if my kids had done anything especially funny or bad today, so I relayed this story, and she texted back something sad, a broken heart, and asked if I was okay. It was sweet of her, but the point of this story is that I kind of laughed at that text, because while being appropriate to how I may have reacted last year, now it demonstrates how I've changed, a result of how my surroundings have changed. Something like that simply cannot upset you, or you're doomed.

That was a bit rambly, eh? Reflections on life so far, I suppose. But now it's Christmas! I've been looking forward to this for so long, and of course now it's here, it doesn't seem real. But oh, it needs to be. And the beauty of life is that it is. Or the beauty of God.

Sometimes you feel things so deeply you don't know how to say it. That's when some people paint or go running. Maybe that's when I blog. So I have no idea what I'm really trying to say here. Except maybe love. Which sounds, of course, trite. But every deepness goes back to love.

I am constantly astounded both by the depth and shallowness of my students, moment by moment. I suppose that's the paradox of being a teenager.


Merry Christmas to all, with much love,
Anneke