The Crimes and Punishments of Ms. G

I am a cruel, horrible teacher, like the one from The Crimes and Punishments of Miss Payne. Last year I flat out disliked some of my students, and I couldn't wait until they would be gone from me forever. On Monday I saw one such old student, and the only thing that kept me from pointing and laughing at his circumstances was the birthdate on my drivers license. If it wasn't for my semi-maturity, I would have poked fun at him.

These were his circumstances: Last year he was a mean, horrid child who was always off task and never but any effort into doing his work. I had conferences with his mother, and she kept insisting that he is smart, but doesn't apply himself. I thought so too at first, but the more I disliked him the more I was convinced he was just dumb. State test scores confirmed it. He didn't pass, even after his third attempt. He would hardly get his math work done. Consequences for this year? He has to go to math tutoring. That's right. I saw him in the tutoring line, and now he has to stay after school twice a week. Ha.

And that is why I should be fired. I am mean and silently poke fun at children.

Here is why I am not as horrible as all that:
I love my this-years-students. They are sweet and mostly do what they're told. They have a lot of potential and more skills. I have goals to have them all pass their reading and math state tests. Last year about 80 percent of my kids passed. The 4th grade writing test is a different matter. Last year, only 5 out of my 28 kids passed. This was typical of all fourth grade classes, not just mine. No, I do not suck at teaching writing. We are practicing very hard this year, and I am training them earlier than last year. I want to blow this out of the water, and get at least 15 out of my 27 kids to pass writing. It's not an easy task. Mostly I just want to beat out the other fourth grade teachers (sorry Susan). Wanting your children to be brilliant is very difficult, because you can't take them home with you and make them work even more after dinner. Yes, I am a slave driver.