Year 8 History Class

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Teaching this history class is a NIGHTMARE. They make me almost cry everyday. In fact, I would cry except that I don't want them to have the satisfaction, so I hold it in. I've never been one to hold in tears, because I find it painful. All that negative energy just stores up in your body and it's harmful.

This class has thirty-two students, four of whom are girls. The rest are the most wild, immature boys I've ever seen in my life.

They enter my classroom running and chasing each other, throwing chairs around and yelling. They refuse to sit in assigned seats; they prefer to sit by their friends and talk for the whole lesson. I'm up there trying to teach, and it's like background music that no one really pays attention to. They're busy socializing; they can't be bothered to listen to me. Paperwads fly across the room, as well as pens and pencils (and the remains of broken pens and pencils). People are eating crisps and sweets (or chips and candy, in American). They'll get up and steal someone's backpack and run around the room to hide it under a table.

It's chaos, it's madness.

I yell and yell over the noise, trying to quiet them down. Most of the time, they don't even look at me, even if I'm yelling their name. They'll lean closer to their friends and say, "What?", as if I am the nuisance who is disrupting their conversation.

I start writing names on the board of people who are talking, signaling to them that they've been warned and now they have a detention. They start arguing, "What?? Everyone is talking! Look at everyone! Why do I have a detention when everyone is talking? No one listens to you. Why are you picking on me?"

They'll get out of their seats and come up to me to argue about how unfair it is. I don't want to argue. I say, "Look, you're breaking my class rules, so you have a detention."

"Yeah, what about everyone else?"

"They'll get one too, if they keep it up."

"They're talking just as much as I am, so the whole class should get one."

"Just go sit down," I say, needing to turn my attention to the class because they're only getting more wild now.

Of course, they refuse to sit down, and they argue so much, it's really pissing me off.

When I get angry, I start saying things that I really shouldn't say. Sarcastic things, witty insults. My eyes are bulging out of my head and I look like I'm crazy. Hot tears well up in my eyes involuntarily, and my jaw clenches. I start being rough with things: slamming the door, throwing things, wanting to break something or punch someone. I hate the person I become when I'm angry. It's rare that I get that angry, to be honest. I probably haven't gotten this angry since I was dating Joey back when I was 20-years-old, and we got into arguments.

Eight years later, and these assholes have driven me near madness. They laugh at me, which makes me even angrier.

An hour slowly drudges by, and I've gotten no teaching done. They're supposed to be working on a project about the English Civil War, but I didn't even get a chance to explain. The entire lesson was a waste of time, and now I'm pissed off and wanting to run away and cry.

I hate them. I hate them all.

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Comments

[Question]

How did this go by the end of the term?

[apart4]

??
What do you mean?

[Question]

Were they still acting like this by the end of the school year? Is what I mean.