Wednesday, November 6, 2002

So you want to be a teacher...

English class today was such an eye opener. People down these "freshman core classes" but they really are fun if you just 'find the good in it' as they say. I found the 'good' in my english class. I found out why my children will not be taught in public schools. Ever. We did a critique session today in class. We each read 5 other drafts in class and commented on the style, organization, feasiblity, and what have you. Four of the five papers I read today were eyeopeners. These wonderful women all wanted to be teachers. Keep in mind that these are freshman and sophomores. These are women who are healty, fit, anglo, and raised in United States and made it into college. They couldn't spell "high school" or "patience", and they had sentence structures of a 3rd grader. To quote: "When I grow up I want to be a teacher. because i have patients. And I like children." Or how about, "When I was in HighSchool, I really liked my classes." And lets look at this last one, "I know when I was in school, I was afraid of the children in the resource class." Apparently, that fear has not dissipated. She goes on to say that the school system need to "make them feel normal". I would challenge any teacher that wanted to 'make' my child feel a particular way. I worry for the future children who will be taught by these Abercrombie show dummies. They spend more time putting the power on their face than they do writing their engish paper. The toll makeup takes can be seen in the pits on their faces. And they wonder why I don't look any older than 19. (haa haa). These are the same girls that frown at my attire of wind pants and free t-shirts. These are the same girls that wear "My sister came to college to find her husband. I came to college to find my bridesmaids" (*gulp*). Yes, that shirt exists, and it is worn on campus proudly by female members of a greek society. These girls resemble show poodles. No taller than 5 foot nothing, with freshly cut hair every week, matted makeup fit for a Maybeline shoot, and low riding jeans that accentuate their posterior cleavage which shines proudly atop their Shakira lookalike belt. They are unable to park their camaros much less open the door to get out without using both hands and a foot. They are unable to park without exiting and entering a parking slot at least 4 times. These are our teachers of the future. Think I'm being harsh and judgemental? Spend sometime in an english freshman class, read their papers, and watch them as they get in the cars to go home.

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