"For five minutes, five, there is no Korean. Only English. If I hear Korean, we restart."
These were the words my 5th grade class got to hear. And I don't know if it's because I've been teaching for almost 1.5 years, the silence/paying attention for once, or all the TEDx talks I've been listening to, but today's lesson went almost perfectly.
The only thing that didn't go well...I didn't get to finish some of the slides. But that's okay. I'll just put them to Friday's lesson as a review for today's lesson.
No sweat.
Yet, despite having a great teaching day so far (I've taught 2 classes, and that 1st class could've gone better, I also know it could've gone A LOT worse, which is why I'm taking my win, thank you very much), I cannot get away from the explosive anger I still feel from last Friday.
Now, before I tell you what happened, let me try to put this anger to words.
I'm not a person who gets angry often. I can be, and I have been, but generally you can see happiness when you see me. Of course, under all that happiness is my social anxiety, depression, and a lack of self-worth, but the point is, no anger.
I like to get along with everyone I meet, but that can be hard. Some people don't vibe well, or they have no interest in being on good terms.
And fair. I respect that.
Boundaries are important.
What I can't respect is blatant disrespect. I don't just get angry. I get pissed.
You may not see smoke coming out of my ears, my face glowing as a visually red thermometer effect is happening, or growls coming from the back of my throat, but I won't be silent.
Unlike some people. (Is this a dig a certain group of people? Oh yes. It is. Keep reading until the end to see who.)
Not sure if I successfully penned out my words, but I did say I would try.
Let's get into what happened.
On Friday, it was lunch time. And lunch time meant soccer. Of course, waiting to let your stomach settle...not exactly on anyone's mind. We were about to have fun.
I promised a student I would be on the pitch, finished up my lunch, and felt pretty relaxed as I hustled to my spot in the goal.
At first, things started off well. I mean, for elementary schoolers playing soccer, there's passing and not bad passes. I see a lot of potential on the field, but all that potential goes out of the window the second these kids started to feel inadequate, ignored, or some other word that starts with 'i' that has a negative connotation.
I may not be a soccer expert, but as someone who played the sport for 9-ish years, playing almost every position (but goalie, ironically), with soccer camps, tournaments, and various teams, I'm definitely proficient enough to understand how the sport goes.
And with soccer, what doesn't fly, is narcissistic bullshit.
Guess who brings their narcissistic bullshit on the pitch?
The school's "best player".
Now, guess who gets hurt by it?
Everybody. The other team, teammates, the "best player".
I don't know what's going on in this kid's life or what may have truly sparked the narcissism (I can guess all I want), but you bring this bullshit on the pitch, people are going to get hurt.
Emotionally.
Physically.
Which is what happened on Friday.
The "best player", in his effort to be first to the ball as this whole game wasn't going his way, was tripped by another child who is 4-5 years younger than him on accident. We all understand how young children are here to play and have fun and what do you mean my limbs don't function the way I want them too?
But our "best player", as he fell and cried on the ground like the best Italian player, he was also up off the ground in the blink of an eye and shoving his "attacker" to the ground and saying spiteful words.
I think I teleported to these kids' sides so fast I broke the sound barrier. And, as a bonus feature, my students got to see what happens when you push me too far. As a daughter of a retired veteran, I've experienced a few...let's call them "army tactics"...when it comes to showing your displeasure with someone without putting your hands on a person.
1) My voice dropped several octaves.
2) I got close.
3) I kept it curt.
4) I didn't blink.
Now...this also comes with an intimidation factor that one should use responsibly. Personally, I don't like using it on children. There are other ways to get correct behavior.
And yet...
*sigh*
In my guilt, I let the game finish. It was much more toned down, except now the "best player" was releasing their anger on me. (Rather me than someone 4-5 years younger than them.)
Five minutes later, I was messaging a friend if they could translate something for me. Between leaving the pitch and sitting at my desk, I realized that what had happened could've been avoided. Sure, I had spoken up in the past when I saw unfair play, but unfortunately, it sometimes happens.
I realized, I should've been more strict about it.
I realized, I couldn't play with people who couldn't respect the game, let alone each other.
Toya teacher...she was done playing soccer.
Until my students learn to respect each other and the game, they can bet I won't be on that pitch for a single second.
And you know what else?
I wasn't the only teacher playing soccer. There were three other adults, one actively playing with us, who didn't do a damn thing.
Not a single consequence, scolding (outside of mine), nothing.
Where is the accountability?
A lot of people already drop the ball where I am concerned, but the students? Don't drop their ball. Unlike our students, I don't need someone to teach me how to act. I've had my lessons. But these kids....they're still learning. Give them their boundaries. Give them their realities. Give them their responsibilities.
As you know,
#SaveOurToya
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