First year of exercise (a looooong time ago). Absolute novice and the first on the forehead. While teaching the class, a student is permanently back turned to his companions behind the desk. While speaking, I approach her and, with a pencil in my hand, I give two light taps on the shoulder to get his attention. Boasting a perfect mastery of dramatic pace, the student is rotated slowly raises his head and his eyes fixed on mine, let pass a couple of seconds of suspense and tells me more defiant tone as possible and drawled: "I've stuck? ". Silence of the remaining glacial twenty-nine present in the classroom, most of them probably willing to testify, for companionship and feeling of rejection towards the enemy figure of the teacher, I used the pen which Paleolithic club. Virginity taken away.
verbal confrontation with a student, arrogant and challenging those who have both the misfortune of meeting. Just broaching to claim final argument: "You I do not tell you what I have to do that my phone is worth more than what you earn in a month." Besides being possible that the bluff was not too far from the truth, it is very indicative of how some self-worth put in what you possess.
Teaching (teaching "?) Values \u200b\u200bin schools, as we mark our beloved legislators. Inane task, as we now see. In particular, necessary and just talking about sharing housework between family members. The student asks, "Do you do things in your house?". I reply, "Of course." Deductible and decision: "Well, what a fag!". That will be.
Without warning, the student gets up from his seat and removed an object from the bag that hangs on the back of his chair. Unfolds it and I can look at his hands a knife from the exhibitor of Albacete souvenir shop, no less than eight inches of bright leaf (no, it could be argued that only leads to peel an orange for lunch). A few steps to where I stand, his face displaying an enigmatic expression whose meaning attempt to be processed as quickly as possible to decide what must be the appropriate reaction on my part. I have no time. Without uttering a single word at any time to sit back and sheathed his sword while all his classmates celebrated their occurrence with raucous laughter and expressions whose meaning, in those times when my body is dedicated solely to get my blood flowing again normally, I am unable to grasp.
A first course, a newcomer to a new center. In the halls, a student tells me discreetly if I address him to the sidelines. I offer "protection" for an affordable rate. I suspect he means it.
Half of a class, the door swings open and two men rush inside the classroom, they go to one of the students who are sitting before me and as a subject will the other will loose a host (I can think of literary forms to express it, but none so graphic and true to life). Without interruption, come back like a blast. The operation, to all appearances planned in detail before, lasted just seconds. I could not even determine whether they were students at the school.
apropos in light of developments in the situation, shot at close range from a student: "What about you to your wife how the fuck you?".
I transpose the classroom door. With a panic that paralyzed me, I observe how, in the chaos that is generated in the intervals between classes in the absence of Professor (land / time to anyone and anything goes), a pupil subject to another by the legs to keep it with half out of a third floor window while Laughing, calls out "I shoot, I shoot!". Fortunately, everything was a game (¿¿¿???).
Sitting at the teacher's desk, focused on the task of explaining to the kids one of those things that are not interested at all (probably rightly). Suddenly, the sound of a strong impact against the glass of the window to be a few inches next to me. I jump up in time to see quite a stir after the front window, for the classroom of another of the groups they teach. Examine the glass and check that shows a trace of what could only have been a stone or other hard objects. What shoddy Grissom, conducted an analysis of the spatial position to conclude that, had it not been closed the window the bullet had found my temple unfailing target. Congratulations on an excellent shot.
I decide to expel a student from the classroom, which very rarely have done. Open and I hope to come out. It seems that lends meekly, but when on the other hand, holds the door to prevent my return to close it without thinking, by mere reflection, struggle (big mistake on my part). When it seems that it has been tireless in his attempt, then left to feel resistance against, push the door to throw me with all the momentum that is capable of. Court in the forearm. War wound.
"What do you want us to study, if my cousin goes drugs going around with a big car and a kettle that you shit and did not finish THAT?". Did not he will be right after all?
Other things I've heard from some of my students: "What do I short your classes!", "No I had never understood until you've explained it to me," Recomiéndame this summer a book of those from whom we have spoken, "I hope you continue here next year." Thanks for helping me to forget everything above.
No, not me, but ... how cool your gun.
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