I will never become a teacher

I was in Seventh Grade (I feel the capitols are deserved, it is after all one hell of a year)and I vowed in a speech to my english class that I "will never become an actor or a teacher".

As you will see, along with many things from the years 12-13, these vows didn't quite pan-out.

Come to think of it, another solemn vow from that year was that I will never, ever go back to middle school.

Now I go back every day.

So far my solemn vow stats are pretty poor 0-2, that would hardly earn a roster invite.

"Sure", you say, little promises that one makes oneself when one is twelve don't amount to much. However, given the fact that it is nearly March on the academic calander, these vows seem like moments of clairity to my 'Mr. Mycapacity' brain.

If you are a teacher, or know one, or god forbid live with one, you know that the months March through May suck.

I am not talking normal sucking either. This is not like acceptance speech at the academy awards sucky. This is like Will Farrell playing Hamlet sucky, 'Pet Cemetary the Musical' Sucky, living through seventh grade sucky.

Here is why.

If you are a teacher you actually care about the kids in your class who have one hell of a time from march through may in middle school and there is nothing you can do about it. I now have sympathy for my teachers.

Here are some examples from my life.

During a few moments of particular desperation in a history class in May of Seventh grade I asked a question of a friend of mine (a friend mind you) during class and he responded rather flippantly with a remark questioning my relationship with my mother.

Now, at 12 'you mom' jokes are the norm.

It is not outside the realm of possiblity to hear this exchange.
"Hey, Steve, how are you?"
"I'm pretty good"
"your Mom's pretty good"
"huh, good one"

or

"I don't feel good today"
"yeah, your mom isn't feeling good"
"huh, good one"

or

"Man, I can't believe Truman would use the atomic bomb on Japan twice. That's bogus"
"Your mom would use the atomic bomb"
"huh, good one"

However on this day the man went too far (the slight is not remembered.
)I reached over, pulled him out his desk in a head lock (I had him by four inches and 60 pounds) and with his feet three inches off the ground punched him in the kidneys four or five times before dropping him back on his desk face first. And said something pithy like 'that's nothing like the pounding your mom took last night'.

now, that I am a teacher, here is the event I just described from the teacher P.O.V.

Teacher: I want you to imagine class that you were living in a society where everything you do is suspect. Where if you were to want to leave the country for vacation the govenment would look into every aspect of your life to make sure you were not a risk to provide secrets to a communist country. Yes, Suzy?
Suzy: Can I go to the bathroom?
Teacher: Yes but hurry. Any other questions? Yes, Tony.
Tony: Uh, so what country was this that you couldn't leave?
Teacher: The U.S. Tony during to cold war.
Tony: No way, my grandpa traveled all the time.
Teacher: Yes, but like I said if you had a job like scientist, entertainer...
Tony:Whatever, is this going to be on the test?
Teacher: Probably. Now,
(big fat kid in the fourth row out of nowhere picks up a little tiny kid and begins to beat him soundly in the middle of the classroom.)
Big Fat Kid: 'That's nothing like the pounding your mother took last night'
Teacher: MYCAPACITY what? why? Go to the office.
Big Fat Kid: no.
Teacher: (loud with teacher voice) Go right now.
Big Fat Kid: No, I don't think I will.
Teacher: Don't you get smart with me.
Big Fat Kid: oh, sorry, (affects 'retard face' that stupid ass seventh graders do)Duhhhh
Teacher: go...to...the...office.
Big Fat Kid: Kay.

That was the beginning of my capacity of self-destruction.

I now see kids like this all the time. Normal, happy kids who have some sort of neuron misfire in their little brains and for 13 seconds they become Charles Manson.

So. Despite the random beatings and sophomoric humor of my 12 year old self, it seems I made some sense. I could have stuck to my guns and never become a teacher.
But where else would I get to have exchanges like

"Johnny, where is your other sock?"
"what?"
"come to think of it, where are you shoes?"
"My what?"
"Shoes man."
"Oh, dude"
"That doesn't answer my question"
"I don't know"

Amen Brother, Amen.