Full disclosure: My new obsession/go-to-Netflix-binge is The Great British Baking Show. There are several reasons why I think this show is utter genius.

1. I learn something new every time I watch. Dough lamination is a thing, choux pastry is not shoe pastry, people like to use passionfruit A LOT, biscuits are cookies, and “I need to get a wiggle on” is my new favorite way to say “I need to hurry it up!”
2. There is an entire world of baked treats that I didn’t know existed but now must try.
3. British people do not show emotions.

This last one is the one that really fascinates me. I have seen a guy screw up a cake and toss it “in the bin”, then meet the judges and not even show one ounce of anything but a teensy bit of remorse about throwing it away. I’ve seen women let one tear roll down their cheek when they get eliminated, and then they apologize for getting “so emotional”.

Y’all.

If this show was in America, people would be shanking each other with bread knives and dropping F-bombs like they were going out of style. I, myself, am not the modicum of restraint I should be, and there were times when, if what happened on the show had happened to me, I would have burnt that tent down with a smile on my face.

I started talking about this with two of my awesome fellow teachers, and they decided that I needed to create a show called “Can You Teach an 8th Grader”. This is because they know that I’m a hot mess waiting to boil over, but somehow I keep my wits about me enough to be considered a professional when faced with the array of joys that teenagers bless us with daily. They agreed with my assessment of my behavior if I were to go on The Great British Baking Show, but they said that they knew I would never do that in my classroom.

Huh.

They’re right.

So how come I can hang with teenagers, when a large majority of the population would rather stick a hot poker in their eye, but I can’t keep it together when anything else in my life goes wrong? Where is the magic switch that doesn’t flip just because I’m in the classroom?

Is it control? Because I have lots of that. I run my classroom efficiently, with high expectations, and I think I do a pretty good job. Maybe that’s the secret. In my classroom, I am in control, whereas on the baking show, I’d be at the mercy of the judges. I’m famous for getting quiet instead of loud, which apparently scares the bejeezus out of many of my students (and my own children as well).

I think that many teachers would agree that we have a magic in us that makes it possible for us to deal with many things in a way that no one else could. I wish we could actually make this a show and watch as a CEO, a senator, an actress, a police officer, a waiter or waitress, and a retail clerk (just to name a few) handle themselves in a roomful of teenagers. The game would be that they have to stay all day, go to any meeting or duty stations, actually accomplish some assignments, and not leave or scream at the kids. Otherwise they win no money.

I think we’d make money on that deal because I don’t think most people can do what we do.

As many of us try to survive the last days before holiday break, I think we should all pat ourselves on the back for being the pillars of strength that we are. Give yourself some credit, and make sure you take care of yourself when you’re off so you can come back in 2019 ready to finish out the school year with a bang.

I wish all of you a merry Christmas and a happy new year!

Merry Christmas! Happy Hanukkah! Blessed Kwanzaa! It’s the holiday season, a very strange time for most teachers. In elementary, I’m guessing they are making craft ornaments for parents to treasure and learning numbers by gluing cotton balls on Santa’s beard. I’ll bet there’s a lot of glitter happening right now. I mean A LOT. And probably a ton of holiday-themed clothing.

In secondary? Not so much.

We are a more dark and twisty bunch (hence the fact that I’m a secondary teacher), and we are more concerned with peeling teenagers off the wall that just got their first gift from their boyfriend or girlfriend. Or the girls have started drama because Sally got everyone a gift EXCEPT Allie (because they are fighting). Or Billy got Susie a teddy bear, but isn’t he talking to Jane?

Whatever they are thinking about, it’s most likely not our classes. And we have no crafts or glitter to distract them. We just have curriculum. And learning. And testing. And data.

Aren’t we a jolly bunch?

Then there are the pictures I see of colleagues in elementary with the MOUNTAIN of gifts from their little treasures. Is that a Coach purse? A $50 gift card to Starbucks? Stationery from Harrod’s?

I’m kidding. Sort of.

As a middle/high school teacher, we don’t get gifts from all our kids because our kids have 6-10 teachers and coaches. If you buy them even a $5 gift card, that’s $30-$50. That’s pricey! My favorite gifts are the small things: a card, a bag of homemade cookies (which I might eat, depending on the kid), a candy cane, or maybe my favorite drink from Starbucks. Anything that makes me know they (or their parents) went out of their way to get me something is a good thing in my book.

My Colleagues Chime In-

One of my 8th grade teammates had this to say:

“‘My child has always done well in X subject before…’ (Yeah, cuz they got to color pictures and use crazy glue… oh yeah, they weren’t strange hormonal monsters then either. 😉

Also, my favorite gift is always a personal note from a student.  I completely understand why we don’t get much and why some parents at least try to get us that $5 gift card or mug.  But I’d rather have a heartfelt note from a student than any of that.  Even the snarky ones I’ve gotten over the years, I still go back & read because I know they were being snarky with me because they felt comfortable and enjoyed having me as a teacher.”

“I alternate between the land of Snarkia and Schmaltzylvania at this time of year.  I think one of our highs is the fact that it’s particularly special when a student does bring us a gift in middle school.  We have a moment of connection, and for some of our students, a moment of great portent when they muster their courage to sidle up to us as inconspicuously as possible, and thrust a small token of appreciation into our hand.   They are acutely vulnerable and hope their humble offering is as significant to us as their offerings of glittery pom-pom-and-popsicle-stick reindeer ornaments were to their primary teachers.  So, I’ll happily raise one of my seventeen “World’s Best Teacher” mugs to the fact that we don’t have to wear a poncho to withstand the onslaught of glue and glitter, and give a toast to the students who take a social risk to show kindness to a teacher. Now that’s a gift!”

So, the takeaway is this: Secondary teachers, be excited that you too don’t have to wear a poncho to avoid glitter and glue. Be proud of that coffee mug and those Hershey’s kisses. Even better, remember why you chose to teach secondary in the first place- no wiping noses, tying shoes, or lining up. You also don’t have to eat lunch with them.

Those are the gifts that keep on giving, right?