That's why there's so many abortions.
As every teacher knows you have to be implacably unflappable, stern, and single-minded. I am none of those. Also, I communicate with a sense of humour that often drops into absurdity and irreverence. I should never be a teacher of children.
Yet, here I am, a teacher of children. How on earth did that happen? The guardians of culture definitely dropped the ball on this one, letting me begin, not just letting, but drawing me into beginning a career in teaching. Perhaps America's children were better off when I was an art snob thinking, “People who can do, do. People who can't, teach.” Some of the best guys taught, though. Hanns Hoffman was the artist-teacher/ teacher-artist. Rothko taught. My favourite author, Kenneth Koch, taught very successfully. So why not teach, then? I would do well sharing what I have, especially since I have actually proved my snob adage. I couldn't; I teach.
I have a new respect for teachers. I asked the other art teacher how it's done and felt my eyes go opaque as she explained it. Totally over my head. Also, I don't believe it will work. An art teacher friend just told me that it takes a good two years to master classroom management. It's like a prison sentence, or a term in the armed forces. My tour of duty has begun. I'm on my way to making something of myself, something respectable, a paragon of social standing.
The kids were hilarious. I taught a ceramics class and did everything wrong. As they walked in I had them all slap a bag of clay. That was my first encounter with every student. Then I wondered why it was raging chaos in the room. I only have them two rules, no telling and no throwing clay. Throwing clay is irresistible. It sticks to whatever it hits. One table built a target of of clay to throw clay at. Interesting solution, artistic even. The internet kids only the it at the table, vertically.
Ha ha
I just got an email from the other art teacher asking for the names of the students who left a mess of clay on table #1. First, I have no idea who anyone's name is in the class. Second, that was my table. I left the mess.
Off
To the
Races.