Overheard or said directly to me:
“I would really like some homework actually.”
“I hate you…for introducing me to so many books that I want to read now.”
“You are my favorite history teacher ever. You make history fun.” (this in response to the first class in which I harangued them about signing out to go to the bathroom and made them copy a David McCullough quote in their best cursive. Setting the bar low…)
“I would like to have the right to give the teacher snacks and notes.” (offering up a right for our class constitution).
“I have the right to bear school supplies.” (because they all know about the 2nd Amendment)
“I feel very old now.”
So…yeah…does this give you an idea about the kind of class that I have? I’m either looking at a class of saintly children (Charles Dickens would approve, since saintly children were sprinkled throughout his books) or a roomful of Eddie Haskells. Only time will tell. Although honestly, I’m sure they’re a mixture of both. These first few days are so odd. There’s something so endearing and sobering about how much they want to be liked. I don’t mean that in a snarky way. I wish that I could just say, “Relax. I like you all very much, just as you are.” But relaxation and mutual comfort comes in good time. Like next week. When you spend hours with someone, it’s amazing how quickly you get comfortable with each other.