My first period is rough. Good, bright kids, but filled with enough overly talkative ones that I have not been a good teacher overall this year, and I can see it on the face of several students every day that they are sick of the core group of students who just won’t shut the fuck up.

Last night I had a dream about Oh-Dear-God-Won’t-You-Ever-Shut-Up (ODGWYESU), involving me booting him from the room for being his usual disruptive self and then us getting into a fight. And then I see ODGWYESU first thing in the morning. And then him and the rest of his gang are their usual selves and I can’t even finish my points. One of them, who cares about his grade, comes over and tries to talk to me after I essentially told the class I gave up for the day, and then I quietly lost it, told him I hadn’t been a good teacher for the whole class, not just because of him but because of the whole group that he had been involved with, and that it just hadn’t been fair to everyone this year.

I could feel the tears coming, and I knew he could see that. I held it in long enough for the bell to ring, and then I went into the teacher-only hallway and cried. I can’t remember the last time I cried at work about work.

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I just...they deserved better from me, and I was not a good teacher this year, and this is what I’m ending my career on. It’s bittersweet, and as the year comes to a close, I’m still processing all my emotions.