Apathy Jack writes:
One of my girls is sad. I love this kid like she was my daughter, and it cuts me up that I can’t help her. She hasn’t told me what’s wrong, but I figured it out in a couple of seconds, because I know her and I’ve been doing this for a while. However, I can’t tell her, so I’m hamstrung.
Getting a visit from an ex-student, and having to pretend that I don’t know that she had a miscarriage last week.
The constant battle not to scream at my responsible Year 12. She’s turning herself around, really making me proud. I still remember the looks on her parents’ faces when we discussed her improvements. However, I’ve found out she’s going out with a car crash – the only of my ex-students I have relegated to the “not worth the effort” box.
But I can’t yell at her, because, you know, I’m not meant to know...
There are some teachers who go all year without learning their students’ names.
I envy them sometimes.