Thursday, December 09, 2004

Frosh/Soph Forest Fire

It starts with one kid asking you to use the rest room, then two, then five. The whispers grow into murmurs and then sprout into the saplings of disrespect. This forest of teenage angst is unlike any other forest in the world, it springs up completely arid and thoroughly combustible. The flames are first visible in the back, they always are. A guy in a red sweatshirt gets up and steals the notebook of the kid next to him, someone else starts playing the drums on his desk. Then a paper airplane files across the room and explodes the front rows into a storm of retaliatory paper folding so widespread that I must act for fear of being burned alive myself. Threats of silent reading work as quick as a squadron of tankers carrying chemical retardant.

Multiply this by six and you have the day of a substitute teacher. If you think this sounds like hell then it isn’t for you. Most people would never jump out of an airplane into a firestorm but there are smokejumpers who love their jobs. Most fire fighters love playing with fire, something about the potential it has to burn, but more importantly to renew. I guess its the same with teaching and that makes me a pyro of sorts. Those of you who know me wouldn't disagree.

4 comments:

Katie Harris said...

ah yes. it takes a special kind of person to be a substitute teacher. . .you are the man. love you and miss you.

joel said...

i like fire as well. it starts off small, then grows in size and intensity, devouring oxygen as it goes. makes you think twice about life and limb, loved one and selfishness. yeah, it really makes you think. i even worked in the fire fighting industry for awhile. your blog reminds me of those times. especially when i used to teach fire jumping.

it started off small, i'd tell my brother to jump off the second story walkway unto the rose peddled couch below; then grow in command and distance by imploring a youth (a mexican at that) to leave hide and hallow to a land full of con-foundation and bright sun; and then, as their experience grew, my requests would also. hey, move in and gently embrace a broken beast and his dog. oh, and all-the-while under the hail of constant BB fire. yeah, i taught once. smoke jumpers. they're an unruly bunch. but man, i wouldn't step out of a plane with out 'em.

Anonymous said...

Excellent, love it!
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Anonymous said...

Keep up the good work »