And this is what I chose to do?
 
     by Brenna


   Monday, August 9, 2004 - 12:30 PM


               Since my parents didnít seem to like my intense summer plans, which included things like Ďbe lazyí and Ďplay video games all dayí, I had to find a summer job. Luckily, I didnít have to search or turn in several applications because my father works at a local community college and was able to find a job as a teacherís aid in English class of the summer school department. Perfect, I thought, the job is temporary to begin with, so no mess about having to quit and I would get valuable experience in teaching, which is what I plan to do after (if?) I graduate; and I found out they didnít care about my dyed hair (itís only black anyway, so it falls into the natural color range unlike some other colors it has been dyed) and my plethora of ear piercing.

             So I went in for the interview, and got the job (though it took about a week and a half to find this out, but apparently the woman who was supposed to call me the next day to tell me, didnít). I met my two bosses, both of whom were very nice and agreeable, and so this job was starting to look better and better. I met one of my coworkers, another teacherís aid, who had shown up for her interview in pink sweat pants and pink fuzzy slippers (how she got the job, I will never know).


        Then I met my students.


       Granted this is summer school so I didnít expect brilliance, however when a student going into their senior year of high school tests at the third grade level itís rather discouraging. But I went on with the best outlook possible, graded lots of papers, worked with students who were having trouble, and generally just tried to do my best, as cheesy as it sounds. As much as one tries, one cannot do everything and I tried to convince my students of this. About have of them were of the idea that the assignments were optional, and that we would pass them even if they never turned in a single assignment. Umm, noÖ.

             We recently had the end of course exams (I donít think I have ever been so eager to finish a job), and I donít know what is more sad: that the average equivalent grade level was about eighth grade, or that this was an improvement. Oh well, at least they learned something, I think, and I did get good experience in teaching so it wasnít a complete waste.

 My coworker never did develop a better sense of dress though; I donít know how many times I saw those horrible pink sweats.

  
Brenna
,
 
Helvetia gloria still smile behind the shade of shame

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