"Okay, Hilary, you are gonna teach Spanish two again next year. I want to single prep you since you'll be teaching at the elementary in the mornings and driving here in the afternoons"."I learned nothing in this class" the feminine handwriting stated on my evaluation from my students.
"Advise to future students: switch teachers".
"I taught myself Spanish".
"The drawback of this class: the teacher".
"She's fun and has crazy stories, but she's a 'hypocrit'".
I think you might need to get on your English teacher, too.
"Get yourself earplugs and a pillow, she never shuts up".
"She didn't teach me to read a book in Spanish".
Was I supposed to? I recognized the handwriting on that one. You have to have a brain to read, Forrest, Forrest Gump.
It's funny how a couple of shitty teenage evaluations can really burn.
"Okay, Orelia, you'll be doing AP and standard level International Baccalaureate. Jorge, you have higher level I.B. and Spanish four. The new guy, he'll be doing Spanish two at and three, but man, I would love to get a guy like him into AP Literature....".
I knew before the announcement that I would be teaching Spanish two again and appreciated the single prep. But, all of my Spanish degrees are in literature. It is my strong point. I had been feeling good about next year, yet felt my heart sinking. Why doesn't anyone want to get a girl like me into Literature? I left at the end of the chat and I heard the door close. Loud talking went on in the classroom for another half an hour. Things that I don't need to know about. Stuff I don't need to concern myself with.
"Ms. Wagner is a hands on chica. I love Ms. Wagner".
"I really liked all of the choices she gave us. It kept it interesting".
"If you pay attention, you don't even need to study. She makes it easy".
"Spanish was better than the previous years."
"Ms. Wagner doesn't give 110%. She meets you halfway and expects you to work".
"I learned how horses are impregnated".
Okay, I guess we really don't need to go in on that.
"Okay, so I'm moving across the hall" Jorge stated.
Into the classroom where my desk is.
"But he has to come with me" he indicated, pointing at Gabriel, the teacher that he had been sharing a room with for two years.
"Thanks, Jorge" I said with a dry laugh.
"No, Hilary, it's not personal! We've always been together, he and I!"
"I know, el caribe, I was just kidding".
Sort of.
"Okay, I brought the book" the feminine looking boy fourteen year old stated, as he walked in to take his final exam.
I slowly pulled out the hardcover book, wrapped in plastic Kroger bags.
'Sexuality, a History from B.C. to HIV'.
"So, your dad really just left this laying in your room, randomly? Oh wow, nice. Ends with AIDS. He pretty much made sure that you will have no interest in sex, for like, ever. Holy shit! These pictures are going to burn my eyes out. Okay, whoever gets done with the final exam first gets first crack at this little nugget!".
"I miss you and Lola. The vet recently had to put my dog Orvell down so I've been pretty sad lately." The text was from Elena, my fifth grade friend.
My response to her was followed by a picture of a finger pointing at me.
"Who is the most awesome person today?" the caption read.
You are, Elena. You are.
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