I hate when kids fail me.
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I realize they are the ones failing - that I didn't fail them. I wish sometimes that I was Mr. Chips, or Dumbledore, or Jean Brodie or someone special who could inspire them - or that I could find the special button for each one.
I was cussed out yesterday for failing someone who doesn't come to school, doesn't stop talking when she is here and thinks she can pay attention to math while talking about this ho or that.
But I made the only decision possible.
I had others not come the last possible day to pass. And two that I had to fill out their failure cards before the realized I wasn't kidding.
Arrghh.
Two weeks and we start again.
2 comments:
Your misery is in good company. ALL, literally ALL of my teacher-blogger buddies (and all my in-real-life teacher friends) are feeling this same exasperation-frustration-hopelessness combination. Really, my only comfort is knowing that it's not just me...
I'm right there with you. I posted the names of the students who missed a big test and told them "You have 2 weeks to make this up. If you don't, forget it."
I guess they misunderstood. They forgot it as soon as I finished speaking and never made up the test. *sigh*
Since that was approximately 20% of the class, I ended up making an take-home essay test and told them they had to do it. At our school it's a mortal sin to give a failing grade, and you will be punished it you do so.
Can you guess how many of them turned it in yet? Answer: one.
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