I’m. So. Tired.

Not ‘retire’ tired…but pretty darn fried. 

Yes, it’s April. Yes, we’re post-Covid.  Yes, I own two teens and a husband and 3 lizards and a dog, and I tutor and teach guitar lessons after school.

But this is a different ‘tired.’

So — to all my disabled, broken, auto-immune, chronic-pain, and peri-menopausal teacher-folk…

Ugh.

That is all.

Let me explain…

It’s April in Ontario, which means we were wearing snow pants last week and it’s 29C today. The A/C isn’t turned on yet, so rooms are warm.  Windows don’t open because they’ve been screened from the outside to guard against random smashing.  So rooms are… warm. And kids stink.

Not just warm and sweaty stink but ‘sweaters that haven’t been washed all winter’ stinky.  

And I swear hormones have a palpable smell.

So, I teach grade 8.  That’s a unique ‘pong’ unlike anything smelled in any other context. It’s… slimy green with a sheen of cheese and a sprinkle of bacterial funk. (Can I tell you I am Neuro-atypical any more clearly?)

So it was a muggy, smelly day.  It was difficult in terms of classroom management and challenging in terms of student support, and it was full of worry-for-kids and worry-for-learning-outcomes… and I think my fridge is dying but that is another story…

But an ex-student’s mom emailed to let me know their grade 11 kid is rocking English.  And that kid said ‘it’s all because of what I learned in grade 8.’ And yes, it’s shallow, and petty, but to hear that my hard work pays off gives me the drive to go again tomorrow.  In spite of the stink, and in spite of the ick.

Because in two years, more kids will be doing ok because of the groundwork I laid. 

When you see tired teachers, remind them that they don’t often see the fruit of their labor — sometimes it goes off into the world and does it’s thing without looking back — and that’s ok too.  That’s the goal. 

(But yes, it’s awesome when they let you know that some of what you did has stuck…)

And after a couple of years you forget how bad they smelled.  

Thank you, smelly kiddos from the last 20 years. You have been loved, even on the stinky days where I wondered why I come back the next day.  You are still loved.