Paid Enough?

For the most part, people appreciate the job teachers perform everyday.  A job that they do not want to do, or just couldn't do.  On the other hand, there is a small percentage of people who think teachers are worthless.  Lazy.  Whiny.  Overpaid.  Some of those statements are definitely true.  I have come across a handful of teachers who NEED to find a different profession.  However, the thought that teachers are overpaid (since we don't work summers and breaks) is ludicrous. Who you consider yourself overpaid if this happened to you.

During my fourth year of teaching, I had a special class.  A special class with a few fireballs mixed in.  Two fireballs.  One we'll call Alvin, and the other we'll call Willy. 

Now Alvin was the kind of kid who made you want to invest in super glue.  He never sat down.  In fact, he never stayed still.  Always moving. Always blurting out. Always losing his pencil. The thought of putting super glue in his chair and on his pencil crossed my mind multiple times that year.  Okay, I'll be honest.  It crossed my mind multiple times a day.  Not really wanting to make the nightly news, I had to come up with a different plan.  One, I moved him to the back of the room so he could stand/walk/jump/convulse/ etc. all he wanted as long as he paid attention.  And two, I tied a piece of yarn around his pencil and then tied the other end to the leg of his desk.  Double knotted.  Genius. Pure genius. Ten minutes later. "Uh, Mrs. Torres?  I can't find my pencil."

As for Willy, he was a funny kid.  A funny kid who had good days and bad days. When the good days were good, they were good. I prayed for good days every morning.  I would sit at his desk and pray for good days.  I would pray and pray and pray because the bad days were slap your mama bad. 

The worst of the bad days started because of a haircut.  Willy had super long hair for a boy and his mom finally made him get it cut off.  He didn't like it, so he came to school on a 90 degree day in hoodie.  Hood on. After the morning bell rang, I asked him to take it off.  Didn't happen.  Asked again.  Didn't happen.  Prayed for some patience, and cooperation on his part and asked again.  Apparently Willy was not listening to the angels that day.  The next thing I knew, a backpack was flying across the room along with some profanities that could rival a sailor, and a desk that was now laying at my feet.  Some of the kids even took cover under their desks.  To be honest, I wanted to take cover...in a fetal position.  The words, "Welcome to Walmart.  Is that a return?" came to mind. Surely, I could do something else for the money, but teachers are paid really, really well.  Right?

Disclaimer- I absolutely loved my job as a teacher and would not ever trade any of the experiences I had or the children.  Each child is special, and had unique qualities. Some more than others. ;)