The Educator’s Room now hosts a column called “Confessions of a Teacher.” If you would like to get something off your chest, talk about something that bothers you, or just simply express some thoughts anonymously, click here. You’re not alone! You may find your note published in this column!
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I started teaching in August of 2012 at a very low income, poverty school district in Texas. I thought I could make a difference in the lives of these kids. Show them the way to college, instead of public assistance. Boy, was I naive!When I finally left in April, I had been slapped by two young ladies hard enough to bruise my arm. I had “F$&! You Ms.”, as well as “B!tch, sl@t, H&e” written on my door, my floor and wall. (I requested numerous times to have it covered up. The response? “Why bother. We’re tearing the building down in June.” I finally bought posters to cover the door and wall.) I also had various things thrown at me. Books, chairs, rocks, pencils, trash. You name it, I’ve dodged it or swatted it away! I was also sexually harassed by a male student.
Of course, I followed the discipline plan set forth by my district. But nothing really ever happened to the kids. They might get a talk. But the office was always so full, most would just sit there, then get sent on to their next class when the bell rang.
So I left for my own personal safety and sanity, mid-year. And the saddest part? I actually feel guilty because I left them.