One Good Minute

So today, then:

One good minute.

My goal as a teacher is not to be liked. To put it another way--I want respect, I want positive thought processes, I want enrichment. I'm not out to be anybody's friend, here. And I hate it when people talk about how much their students like/respect them.

That said.

Today, in my first hour Senior Composition class, a student asked a question. Something to the effect of "so what are we doing next semester, Mr. ______?" And I was confused for a moment, because this class is only a semester long. So I said, "K_____, you don't have me next semester. Senior classes are only a semester long."

And there was this genuine shock on his face that doesn't last past 10th grade for most suburban kids, a shock that's half fear and half bewilderment. And he said, "What am I going to do? You're the only teacher who doesn't get mad at me for walking in late."

Another kid piped up: "You're the only teacher who listens to my stupid stories."

K______ dropped his chin to his chest and sighed, a heavy, distressed exhalation. "Well this is just not good."

I'll let you decide if this is a good thing.

One good minute.

Allow me to recommend:
Bloc Party
Tommy Boy
The resurgent sixth season of The West Wing.