Cocky

I have been trying to teach my boyfriend the word cocky for like a month now. He doesn’t seem to understand the concept of it.

Me at this moment fully embodies that concept though. I had a wonderful week back at school. I wrote out all of the reasons why it was so wonderful, but there is a privacy clause in my contract that prevents me from sharing the full details with you.

Sometimes when I’m teaching, I try to remember what it was like when I was in school. I was a terrible student in the sense that I did none of my homework ever. Yet I would repeatedly score highest on tests. I had a math teacher who once came up to me and was like, “You are extremely frustrating.” And then handed me a test with a 98% scrawled on the top. He was always always pissy about me being good at math naturally, with zero effort. But in a joking sort of way.

I would have probably treated me the same way. I have a few students like that. Unfortunately, they’ve all got major behavior issues because of their boredom. I was quietly respectful, whereas some of my students are real shits about it all. Like, go read a book if my teaching is boring you, I don’t care. But don’t be obnoxious. Because some of their classmates need that painfully slow speed if they’ll ever understand anything.

As I become a better teacher, I realize that good teaching truly is all that bullshit about differentiating and teaching all students at their own level. Whoever invented classrooms needs to rethink that idea. It’s absurdly impossible.

But this week, I did a grand job of it. Now, please excuse me while I go brush my cocky shoulders off.

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