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I am glad you chose to visit! My blog is a compilation of the many hats I find myself wearing. On any given day I may be an encourager, an instructor, or just a lady who is venting. You, dear reader, will probably identify with my triumphs and my tribulations! These snapshots fit into my Life Scrapbook I have named A. McInnis Artworks. I hope you will find something worth your while.


Thursday, September 16, 2010

Oh, the Joys of Teaching Boys!

Thought I'd write a blog about some of the funny male students I have taught in years past. I LOVED probably 98% of the students I taught. Now that I have gotten out of the classroom and am the "dreaded" librarian, I really miss getting to know the students well. Through the years I have had the pleasure of teaching some of the funniest, sweetest children and I will always remember them fondly. I will keep their identify confidential...so some names have been changed to protect the innocent...

For several years I taught kindergarten at a small private school. I was not used to teaching little people and so every day they charmed their way into my heart. One little boy had a tracheotomy when he was born and wore a contraption around his neck with a small curved pipe that went down his throat. When he talked, he had to cover the hole and force his voice. I loved him the minute I saw him. Once I had to excuse myself from the class to dash right down the hall to the restroom. I gave strict instructions to "keep coloring, stay in your seat and I would be right back." Just as I assumed the position in the restroom, someone knocked on the door. "Just a moment," I said. Another knock, then another...finally I dashed to the door, threw it open and there stood little "Eugene". I said, "Eugene, what do you need? I told you to stay in your seat."
He peered into the restroom and said, "I wondered what was in here. What are you doing?" "Well, if you must know I was going to the restroom." His eyes got big as saucers and with great surprise he said, "What? Teachers go to the bathroom, too?" (They thought I was Super Woman! Could bound over skyscrapers and NEVER had to go to the bathroom.) I believe he is now a lawyer.

One of my kindergartners was the cleanest, neatest boy I've ever seen. He could run in 105 degree weather out on a nasty playground and he never perspired, never smelled, and every hair was always in place. He dressed like a little man, was nice to everyone, never back talked, made 100 on every paper I ever gave him and when we sold Merry Belles as a fundraiser, he sold every one in his box...EVERY day. He and I went to the prize shelves at least 15 times. His last prize was an Ole Miss glass about 14 inches tall and held at least 1 quart or two. He proudly announced to all the people in the office that he was getting this prize for his mama so she could drink her wine out of it! (I told her when she picked him up that there was an AA meeting in town that night if she felt she needed it...)

Once I had a boy that came to school every day looking... well... like an unmade bed. He was in middle school and I liked him a lot, but I knew if he didn't "fix up" some, no girl would ever look at him. When I mentioned to him that he did indeed look like an unmade bed, his mother came roaring up to the school for a CONFERENCE..Well, after having my ears pinned back for my careless remark we concluded the MEETING with a fairly cordial handshake. He straightened up for a few weeks but by the time I taught him again in high school, he was back to his slovenly ways. Several years went by and one day I heard a knock at my classroom door. When I opened it, the most handsome Marine in full dress uniform was standing at my door! I almost fainted...it was "you know who". He hugged me and said, "Now, do I still look like an unmade bed?!" I could not have been happier! And I bet he makes up his bed every morning, too.

One of my all time faves was a young man I nicknamed "Ooh, La La". (I was always giving nicknames to my students for some kind of foolish reason and they usually stuck.) The name had something to do with his taking French or something and to this day, I have to stop and remember his real name because I've called him that for so many years. (His mama and I are still good friends.) He was quiet, smart and one of those kind of boys that you just couldn't help but love. I found out this week that he has been hired to do some top secret job....very 007....but even if his code name is "James Bond" he will always be little "Ooh, La, La" to me.

My last entry of the night is "Frosty". Again, I have trouble remembering the real name. Once in one of my high school classes, I was on my soapbox ranting and raving about living your life to the fullest, you get this education for free so make the most of it, don't let one day go by that you don't learn something...or some such "pump em up" type of lesson and they really seemed to be listening and taking it all in...of course, some teenagers can actually sleep while their eyes are wide open and you really believe they are listening to you. But today, I felt I really had their attention. The next day, "Frosty" was late to class and when he entered he looked very pale. "What in the world is wrong with you?" I inquired. Well, this was his tale...he had sneaked into the cafeteria backdoor to "borrow" the walk in room size freezer to store some project he brought to school and when he did, the door slammed and he couldn't get out. He banged on the door and screamed, but there was so much going on that nobody heard him. He sat in that freezer for what seemed like hours, but I think it was probably about 15 or 20 minutes. He said as he sat there all he could think of was me telling them not to waste a day, you never knew when it would be your last....We were all spellbound. Finally someone heard him and let him out...he was pushing the handle the wrong way all the time. When he got out he was cold, but resolute. He said, "I've made up my mind to never waste another minute of my life." I walked over to him, shook his hand and said, "Well, welcome home Frosty." From that day forward he was the one and only "Frosty" at our school.

I love teaching boys. They used to not get their feelings hurt nearly as easily as girls. I once was the lone chaperone on the boys' bus for a field trip all the way to New Orleans and back. (I had to take three days leave the next week to recover.) I had Cub Scouts who, when I took them Christmas caroling in my neighborhood, frightened the neighbors so much that not one person was home on the whole street...hmmm. So we just turned around and sang at the top of our lungs all the way back down the street. Then they came in for refreshments, began rough housing, turned over my lighted Christmas oil lantern and set my den drapes on fire. Oh, the joys of young manhood.

I personally think men are great and when allowed to act like men, they can be strong, loving and caring all at the same time. Now I know some of you may have had some not so great experiences with men...but face it, where would we be without them? (I bet there are some thoughts going through your minds right now...be nice.)

Later...some funny young ladies.

5 comments:

Chew on THIS!! said...

LOVE IT!!!!!!!

monicamedwards said...

I loved teaching boys too for the same reasons. They don't get their feelings hurt easily and seldom ever run out of a room in tears. Of course, they also caused me to lose my mind on occasion and almost made me run out of the room in tears sometimes. Still whenever I see any of them now I'm happy to see what they have become and I haven't been dissapointed yet.

Angela McInnis said...

Me either, Monica!

Anonymous said...

I am the proud mother of one of those special boys. His job is an answer to so many prayers by family members and friends. We are so thankful. We are also truly thankful he had teachers like you who cared for him. When your name is mentioned in our house, his face still lights up. By the way, you'll also be happy to know he can answer almost any etiquette question because you taught him so well.

Angela McInnis said...

Well, "Anonymous", you certainly SHOULD be proud and so very thankful for such a wonderful young man because "he es the verrrry best"...that's my very best French accent!