An Open Letter to 6th Hour

Dear Students,

Today I had to speak to you in tones harsher than I have had to use with you before.  You all sat, wide-eyed, silent, knowing my words of admonishment were founded, that your behavior yesterday--when I was gone for a district meeting and you had a substitute--was completely uncalled for.  You knew, with every word I spoke, that you had done wrong.  In fact, you confessed to it even before my take down began, saying you knew you had been "really bad" yesterday.

You told me you missed me.  Several of you, as you walked into this room, said you had missed me yesterday because I make you laugh, or because you like hearing me lecture--this one nearly floored me--or because you look forward to seeing me all day.  You said such nice things, it made me sick to think of all the negativity I was about to rain down on you.

But, 6th hour, I have to put you on lockdown.  I had to tell you how disappointed I was, had to make you see that your behavior was wildly disrespectful to the substitute, to yourselves and to me--the teacher so many of you profess to love.  I had to do this so that you would understand our dynamic, laughing and relaxed and open, is one to be valued and honored, not taken for granted. 

You should know I hate speaking to you like that.  Telling you that I was sick all day thinking of the speech I was going to have to give you, how hurt my feelings were that you would act like that, that any help you needed would have to be solicited through email or before or after school because you had lost the privilege of getting my help today.  And now, watchin gyou work so seriously, trying so hard to prove you are better than the humans you were in this room at this time yesterday afternoon, my heart is so full of love for you all that I am having to bite my tongue not to say so. 

You are a good class, 6th hour, a great class even, fun and curious and full of energy--all things I encourage and that will serve you well in the future--but today's lesson is one knowing hte right time and place and audience for such exuberance.  It is an awful, sad lesson to learn, and I am so sorry to have to be the one to teach it to you, but that is my job.  I don't want you to just be better writers, better readers, better critical thinkers; I want you to be better humans.  I want us all to be.

Love--Ms. D