Bridget Jones…again.

“Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow, creeps in this petty pace…”

I feel like a feminist, wanting to scream out my message, listening to Ani DiFranco, absorbing her lyrics and wanting to add my own.

But not yet.

Guess what? I’m writing again. It seems like my words were held in a bottle and are finally letting themselves seep out. I’m glad.

I’ve missed my writing.

I feel like a hypocrite some days. I stand before my class and urge them to write. Not necessarily academic pieces, just something. Words thrown on a piece of paper at midnight. Save the carefully crafted quilt of words for an assignment. Just write for yourself otherwise.

Now I can write for me.

Today 6th period, my students were talking about things. As always, I listened. I don’t “spy” on them or “eavesdrop.” I just listen. I think they noticed though. One of them came up to me.

“Guess what, Ms. K?”

“What?”

“We were talking about you yesterday.”

“Who was and why?”

“A bunch of us. Have you ever seen “Bridget Jones Diary?”

“Yep. A couple of times.”

“You look like the main actress in that movie.”

F.R.E.A.K.Y.

That’s what my students told me last year. I don’t see it. Maybe I should watch the movie again and see.

My students are “getting” Julius Caesar. It still amazes me. In the one class, I told them…”You know guys, every time you answer a question, every time I feel you are getting the play, it makes my day.”

One of them, a student with spiky hair and too many piercings gave me an *are you crazy look* and said “Why would you even care???”

It’s amazing though. Every time they answer with the answer Cassius, Brutus, every time they list the reasons why a character is a tragic hero or *god forbid* correct one of my mistakes relating to the play I want to jump up and down. It reminds me of why I wanted to teach.

It feels like I sometimes question my abilities as a teacher. The teacher who taught at the school before me was heralded as an amazing one of a kind teacher. It’s hard to follow that. I feel like perhaps sometimes I’m not doing as good a job as he did. Today the reading teacher told me something that put it to rest for a bit.

“You know, Katy was talking to me about you.”

“What about?”

“She was comparing you to Mr. S *the teacher who taught the year before*”

“*not sure if I want to know what she said* And???”

“She said that you expect the same amount of work as him, you are just as challenging, but with one difference.”

“What is that?”

“She said you actually have a heart and are willing to help them. She likes your class.”

That little comment helped so much. It’s wonderful to see kids actually enjoying English.

One of my students did her demonstration speech today on how to write a research paper. She did a wonderful job with it and I felt such a sense of accomplishment when she was done. She actually understands how to do a research paper. And instead of going away from the experience with a sense of “thank God it’s done,” she is going away with a sense of pride at her accomplishment, a sense of comprehension about the whole process.

And above all, writing to her wasn’t seen as a punishment. She actually enjoyed doing it.

Again.

I love being a teacher.