A Gift

Yesterday, during my second block, I had two parents sit in on my class. Well, actually, I had a parent and a sister. The two students involved had been assigned parent monitoring, because they both cut class and act a fool on a regular basis. TC's mom is great, she's always on him, and has really been helpful to me in dealing with his behaviors. After storming out of my class one day, he came back within minutes, apologized, and gave me his phone like I had asked him to the first time. When I asked him what had brought about the change of heart, he said that his mom had texted him and told him to give me that phone.

Anyway, it was a decent class. Not a great class, certainly. These kids are getting more and more rowdy, and I seem to have less and less control over them. Sometimes, it seems like I have less and less support as well, but I know part of it has to do with the fact that I have less and less energy. Regardless, learning was taking place, but I found myself spending far too much of my time and energy quieting the class. They haven't been doing a good job of listening, and my consequences have more or less evaporated. When T.C.'s mom left at the end of class, I asked her, like I usually ask parents, if she had learned anything. "Sure did," she said, then handed me the book she had been reading during the class. "You need these, Mr. G" she said and I thanked her. As she left, I looked down to find myself holding on to a small book of prayers. There are six weeks left, and I sure do need them.