Teachers Can Be Boring

Students generally think teachers are one of two things. Either we live really boring or really exciting lives. I’m not sure about you, but when I was in elementary school, I was pretty sure some of my teachers simply lived in the school. I never saw them leave (now I realize it’s just because I never went near the parking lot and teachers drove) and they were always there before I was there and my parents made me go to school early. Of course, I never found where they slept, but that didn’t stop me from thinking it. In high school, most kids have matured enough that they realize teachers go home and (try) to have some sort of life of their own. 

The students who think we live boring lives come in all forms. Some of them roll their eyes at you when you try to share something you did over the weekend as if to say “Why do you think we even care miss?” These students are fun to mess with because when you see that kind of attitude start to bubble up into the surface, you should just make the short story into a lengthy, detailed story. Oh... is that just me?

 Another kind of student who often thinks your boring is the student who’s matured enough from elementary to understand that you go to a home that isn’t the school, but they think that since you’re a teacher (and therefore old) there is nothing you could possibly be doing in your life worth while. To a lot of teenagers, life ends after college. Maybe that’s why so many of them stay in school for what seems like forever. These kids usually end up saying a lot of surprised “really?!”s when they discover you actually do things (that don’t involve going to the bank, walking the dog, or falling asleep on the couch at 6pm).

But the weirdest kids are the ones who think you live a SUPER INCREDIBLE LIFE OF EXCITEMENT. I say they’re the weirdest only because they don’t seem to realize that everyone in the world does at least one thing that’s boring. They don’t write a lot of comics of Batman brushing his teeth or going shopping for salad dressing because a) Alfred does it and b) it’s boring (which is why Alfred does it). You can spot these kids because they spot you. They yell your name from the end of the hall way “MISS SIMARD!” and then hurry over only to ask you what you did last night. And when you answer “nothing,” the student looks disappointed and says “oh” and then will either slink away as if heartbroken or start asking you random questions as if you were lying about last night’s actions and they will get to the real bottom of things. News flash, children.

 Only 2% of teachers are actually spies and supervillians.

 One time after school I was planning on going to the grocery store. I decided I was going to make a cake from scratch and so I had a list of ingredients I needed, but I wasn’t sure what we had at home so I had to phone my mother (yes, I live at home right now – feel free to judge my rent-free self). So there I am, in the hallway of my school where I teach and a student comes over. By now I had already dialed my mother, but my mother hadn’t picked up yet so I said ‘Hi’ and told him he should go home because school was out and home was more fun than school. Then my mom picked up the other end.

Me: Hey. I’m going to the store. Do you need anything?

This is where I looked up and realized the student was still standing there, staring at me. It should be noted that I was using the top of a garbage can to write the list of groceries on and he was standing on the other side of it about a foot and a half away from me. (He’s a drama student so he doesn’t have a lot of personal space).

Me: Okay. Bread. Got it.... do we have eggs? 

Student is still staring. In fact, he’s taken out some carrots and is eating while observing me. Apparently I’m giving and impromptu live-art performance.

Me: Do we need sugar? 

By now I’ve started a list and he’s leaned in, reading what vegetables and other items I was going to pick up from the grocery store.

 Me: Do we have any flour left? 

Now the student’s moved on the almonds. Munch, much, STARE.

This went on like that for a while until I finished the grocery list and hung up. Which, by the way, is a little weird to say ‘Bye mom’ in front of one of your students, but whatever. Once I hung up, I looked at my student and asked him why he decided to watch me have that good 5 – 10 minute conversation about groceries. Without missing a beat, he shrugged and said: “I thought it’d be more interesting.” Then he just walked away with the rest of his almonds (he didn’t even offer me some for my performance!) and I was left a little stunned because... well, no one ever expects to be watched so intently while comprising a grocery list.

I'm sure there was a teachable moment in there, but I went home and baked a cake instead and that was a delicious and not-quite-so-nutritious lesson.