They're scowling at me. They're whispering that maybe they should have switched out to another English teacher's class at the semester break. You know, three months ago.
Of course, it doesn't help that I practically brought some of them to tears today when I
It's not like I hadn't been clear about my expectations, or given them insufficient time to do the work, or neglected to provide them with the resources they needed. No, apparently a large percentage of my students decided my rules and guidelines and such didn't really apply to them.
I informed them they weren't that special. I mean, there are times when they get to be unique little snowflakes. This was not one of those times.
They were lucky I was relatively merciful. But that was then. This is now.
Not only am I creating a nice little assignment that will drill the rules they so carelessly disregarded into their heads, I've made it abundantly clear that I will NOT be remotely merciful when it comes time for them to turn in the final drafts of their Great Big Papers.
Ms. "Nice" TeacherMommy is gone now. This marking period I will be The Bitch, The Hardass, The Nasty Teacher Who Makes Us Do Crazy Work. And you know why?
It's summed up by a poster that hangs on my wall:
You Won't Be Rewarded For Having Brains, But For USING Them.
Gear up, kiddos. It's going to be a wild ride.