In my 10 Taras there's a group of three smart kids who sit in the front corner. They're in my class but not really in it, dig, because they're too cool for school. The three of them hand in hastily-written, deeply insightful work and ignore me a great deal during class time.

Today we were working on essay ideas, an activity these pups loathed. I mean, why do rough work when you're brilliant, right? I went over there to help them with thesis statements (28 dumb kids who need theses + 1 me = 1 brain damaged teacher) and found one particular kid with very few notes. I felt empathetic, but saw that my duty was to warn him about what lies ahead.

"I was a smart-ass kid in school too," I cautioned, "and I had to learn work habits way too late."

"They keep telling me it'll get harder every year," he countered, "and it never does."

"You're telling me that this class isn't harder than Grade 9?" I asked, honestly surprised.

"No," he scoffed.

I walked away from that conversation feeling dejected. Why couldn't I offer a challenging curriculum to my 10 Taras? Why was I teaching so far below the interest levels of my students? Then it hit me: this kid pays so little attention to me that he's been known to get 1 out of 4 on an assignment, simply because he's not answering the question. Too easy? Then why is he third in the ranks, lodged behind two girls cursed with less natural talent but blessed with insane work ethics?

Arrogant sum bitch. Reminds me of me.

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- Rocketbride's adventure of 3/23/2005 10:02:00 a.m.