Breakdown

It finally happened. I snapped in class. A breakdown of sanity and will to go on. Wednesdays are my longest days flush with 8 classes. I couldn't fall asleep last night so I came to work with about four hours of nocturnal slumber. I'm also fighting off a chest cold with Chinese traditional medicine. Advil Cold and Sinus > Flower juice. Trust me.

A strong KFC coffee and a lot of tea propelled me through the first part of the day, but then I had my afternoon nap. It was just a taunt, I needed more. Then third graders. Love the little tykes, but they take everything out of you.

And then one of my one of my favorite playful 4th grade classes. I wanted to play 20 Questions. It's a surprisingly useful game in that when the kids get into it, they're clamoring over each other to speak English and rack their brains for adjectives so they can win.

With sixth graders it takes about three minutes to explain it. Usually a light will go on in one kids head and they'll start stammering "I know, I know!" and I'll have them explain it in Chinese. With this one last fourth grade class that never happened.

My first trial game is me thinking of someone. I make it easy.

"I'm thinking of someone in America...", I begin.

"When is your birthday?"

OK, so they have the question part of 20 Questions down. I ignore it and move on. I whisper into a different kids ear, "ask me if it's a boy or a girl."

"It's a girl! Great question!"

Hands raise. They get it!

"Teacher, what is your favorite color?"

No... no they don't.

I pick another hand. "Who is your wife?"

I played politician and pretended to hear the question I wanted [hey, maybe they're taught to answer Jeopardy-style], and responded, "Nope! Not my wife! I don't have a wife."

"Is it a Panda?!"

I put my head into my hands. I had two choices. Weep or laugh. So I laughed until I weeped. All the fatigue hit me at once, all the frustration of the language barrier. Everything. I wanted to walk away and sleep in some damp corner underneath the stairs.

I picked another hand, hoping.... hoping...

"Do you like Chinese food?"

I walked to the door. I remembered a sign I gave Jordan Schemmell a few years ago. He's the man who got me into education. It was a bulls eye and said, clearly, "BANG HEAD HERE." I picked it up in a gas station on I-95 coming back from a Radiohead concert in West Palm. Actually, it was less a gift than him taking it from me. Several times last year I would draw just such a bullseye on my whiteboard and bang away. American kids understood that it was a perfectly rational response to irrational situations. They would draw it for me sometimes.

So I banged my head on the door unable to stop laughing.

"Teacher, what are you doing?!?" they said. Three kids pulled on my arms to drag me away from the door.

I tried explaining the game again. I had the brightest kid explain in Chinese. I asked in Chinese if they understood.

"Yessss!!!"

I went over what we had so far... a girl... in America... and she's not my wife... why doesn't someone ask me if she's in my family?

"Do you like hamburger?"

I went back to the door for sweet, sweet catharsis.

I remembered I came prepared today. I had backup. The educational equivalent of an air strike, napalm to an inattentive classroom. It was a bright, shiny, fast but long overdue DVD from the school library. It has an airplane drawn on the disc so I assumed it had something to do with aeronautics. I hadn't seen it, but it was in my bag for just such an occasion... either for a really bad class or if I was too tired or sick to really teach. I had never used it. It was more there for comfort, a soft hand to hold and bring me out of bed on tired mornings telling me "it's OK... you have me if things don't work today. Get up, cowboy, take that shower and get to the bus stop!"

Bottom line: teachers, bring backup!