There comes a time in a man's life when he has to own up to the fact that his hair is falling out. Nobody says we have to acknowledge the alarming rate at which is disappears but everyone knows, as a male, we are obligated to come up with some sort of excuse. I like to think my excuse is valid but then again, excuses are like assholes: everybody has one.
My students find it particularly amusing to throw in jokes about my hair line whenever they see an opportunity. If it weren't for their quick wit it might get old. However, I rarely hear the same joke twice. If only I could get them to think this fast when it came to mastering the Physics standards...
I have to admit, many of my most fond memories in the classroom come at the expense of my own embarrassment. More often than not at the expense of my poor hairline which continues to run and hide...never to return.
Today, I was "lucky" (?) enough to become the victim of 2 well thought out balding jokes. The first came in my 3rd period class. As we wrapped up our work for the day the students asked if I had any pictures from when they were freshmen. Me have pictures? Does a bear shit in the woods?
As the first picture comes up I hear a soft snicker from the corner of the room. We flip to another picture and I hear a voice mutter something and more snickering. We flip again and again and more side comments are made. After a few minutes of this the entire class is laughing. I, apparently, am the only one that doesn't get the joke. Finally, it clicks in my head what is going on. The young lady in the corner of the room made a joke and it spread, rather quickly, all across the room. She pretends to cry, rubs her eyes, and says:
"Mr. C, I want you to know that I'm going to miss you so, so much and I have a huge favor to ask of you."
"Sure, what do you need?"
"All the mirrors in my house are broken and I was wondering if you could help me get a new one. It won't cost you anything...all you need to do is come over and let me use your bald forehead!"
Now, normally, I would have a quick witted response back to this but I must say I was speechless. No response...just laughter. M: 1 Mr. C: 0
The second joke came from a freshman in my 6th period class. This one was so clever and witty that I, again, had zero response. A very rare occasion.
We are learning about electricity in class right now and my students have had a lot of questions about lightning. I have a pretty cool video that explains it much better than my words ever can so I decided today would be a good day to show them. Unfortunately, this video involved some talk about a research tower on Mt. Baldy in New Mexico.
"This research facility sits on top of Mt. Baldy in New Mexico..."
"Mr. C! You lied! You said you are from Michigan! Hey, y'all...look it's Mr. C's hometown! Mt. Baldy."
H: 1 Mr. C : 0...damn. That's 0-2 for the day. A rare occurrence.
While the jokes, roasting, and teasing (all in good taste) have become commonplace in my classroom culture I think it really speaks to something larger. These young people are so observant. They watch my every move. Feel my energy. And respond accordingly. I have never had a student make a joke or tease me when they could feel me having a rough day. I have never had them cross any lines or make me uncomfortable. At the young age of 14 and 15 they have learned how to read me and what I'm feeling. Even when I try to put on a show when times are tough they have me figured out. I can't hide from them. I can't pretend. I have come across adults who were not able to read my energy...even when I was so obviously feeling frustration, pain, or exhaustion. Again, I am amazed at the empathy my students can display at any moment in time. I am forever under the watchful eyes of teenagers and they always seem to know what to say or do...
I like to think that my classroom is an enjoyable place for young people to learn. We have fun; we get down to business. Much of that fun has come at my own humiliation. Much of the hard work has come from their own determination to take the road less traveled.
I would like to say that it was I who changed the course of so many students but at the end of the day it was my students that changed my course. Sure, they have added massive amounts of stress to my life. Sure, I have felt frustrated, angry, hopeless, defeated. Sure, I have had the undying desire to walk out my classroom and never return. What teacher hasn't? But at the end of the day, we have always worked it out and always found a way to travel that long road.
So, what is my excuse for losing my hair? I don't blame it on genes (although they don't help!) I blame it on fear. Fear of failing my students. Fear of not setting them up to be successful. Fear that one day they will look back and feel like they didn't get 100% from me. I was 21 years old when I walked into my first classroom. Not much older than the students sitting in front of me. At 21 I felt something I had never felt before. Over the last 5 years that fear has never subsided. Was I everything I could be? Could I have handled this differently? What can I do to better myself? If I fail, they fail. If they fail they miss out on an opportunity every child in this country deserves.
Although my amazing students have certainly played a role in my hair loss I would not trade a single one of them for a single lost hair. Well...maybe a few. Actually, no. Not a single one.
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