(no subject)
Ahh, what a good weekend. Restful, boring, quiet, lots of rain which makes me sleepy...
Didn't end up going to the Fair yesterday. Chris came over and fell asleep for three hours. I was amused.
Back to school tomorrow. A little annoyed about last week's mysterious journal poster. I'm tempted to take back what I said and be like "I love enabling parents. Send me your children and I will raise them for you..." but then I remember, no, that's silly. You know, I'm generally a pretty open minded person. My last boyfriend was an illegal alien (I don't know if that's a real term used anymore but I like to call him that because there's that Sting song). He was piss poor (bless his heart). His grammar was atrocious (I know, I know, how did I survive?) and he was not school material. His sisters had all these children and weren't married. He didn't go to church. He had fast food relentlessly. He was never going to go to college based on his academic abilities. He lived in the sketchiest part of the sketchiest town ever. We were complete opposites. From two completely different worlds. And I loved him tremendously. I really thought I was going to be with him forever (when you're seventeen, this just means until you get through one semester of college). I didn't care that he was broke and couldn't buy me jewlery or take me fancy places. I loved him so, so much.
He was what some people would call "white trash." Or, I guess, in his case, "Euro trash." He wasn't a school person. But you know what? He did what he had to to get by. He stayed out of trouble. He was honest. He tried hard. He asked for help when he needed to. Teachers loved him. It didn't matter how much money he had or that his sisters couldn't keep babies from popping out of their uteruses.
My point is this, money, culture, society does not a child make. Well, actually, it shouldn't, is what I mean to say. He is evidence that a person, or a family can overcome all of that. It's ok to ask for help. Dude, go on welfare. Just don't abuse it. Send your child to day care so you can go to work. His parents raised him, they didn't neglect him. They gave him the social skills he needed to succeed. If he were ever a student in my classroom I would have no idea if he were poor or rich. And that's the way it should be...
Listen. I love children, and I hate it when they are neglected. I have no doubt in my mind that if a child ever comes into my classroom neglected in the teeniest way I will embrace that child completely and do everything in my power to help. And I don't mean just in terms of school. But I will do that because that's what kind of person I am. Children are too special to be screwed by their idiot parents. I will do this because I want to, not because it is mandated to me, or because it is obligatory. For me, it is a personal, moral responsibility. I see it as my responsibility as a good person to help ALL people, when and if I can.
Let's end this debate. We all want what's best for children, we just all disagree on how to provide for them.
But ultimately, I'm correct. Because I said so. And because this is my journal. Biotch.
Didn't end up going to the Fair yesterday. Chris came over and fell asleep for three hours. I was amused.
Back to school tomorrow. A little annoyed about last week's mysterious journal poster. I'm tempted to take back what I said and be like "I love enabling parents. Send me your children and I will raise them for you..." but then I remember, no, that's silly. You know, I'm generally a pretty open minded person. My last boyfriend was an illegal alien (I don't know if that's a real term used anymore but I like to call him that because there's that Sting song). He was piss poor (bless his heart). His grammar was atrocious (I know, I know, how did I survive?) and he was not school material. His sisters had all these children and weren't married. He didn't go to church. He had fast food relentlessly. He was never going to go to college based on his academic abilities. He lived in the sketchiest part of the sketchiest town ever. We were complete opposites. From two completely different worlds. And I loved him tremendously. I really thought I was going to be with him forever (when you're seventeen, this just means until you get through one semester of college). I didn't care that he was broke and couldn't buy me jewlery or take me fancy places. I loved him so, so much.
He was what some people would call "white trash." Or, I guess, in his case, "Euro trash." He wasn't a school person. But you know what? He did what he had to to get by. He stayed out of trouble. He was honest. He tried hard. He asked for help when he needed to. Teachers loved him. It didn't matter how much money he had or that his sisters couldn't keep babies from popping out of their uteruses.
My point is this, money, culture, society does not a child make. Well, actually, it shouldn't, is what I mean to say. He is evidence that a person, or a family can overcome all of that. It's ok to ask for help. Dude, go on welfare. Just don't abuse it. Send your child to day care so you can go to work. His parents raised him, they didn't neglect him. They gave him the social skills he needed to succeed. If he were ever a student in my classroom I would have no idea if he were poor or rich. And that's the way it should be...
Listen. I love children, and I hate it when they are neglected. I have no doubt in my mind that if a child ever comes into my classroom neglected in the teeniest way I will embrace that child completely and do everything in my power to help. And I don't mean just in terms of school. But I will do that because that's what kind of person I am. Children are too special to be screwed by their idiot parents. I will do this because I want to, not because it is mandated to me, or because it is obligatory. For me, it is a personal, moral responsibility. I see it as my responsibility as a good person to help ALL people, when and if I can.
Let's end this debate. We all want what's best for children, we just all disagree on how to provide for them.
But ultimately, I'm correct. Because I said so. And because this is my journal. Biotch.