Youth Spin

Once upon a time I was a substitute teacher.  Once upon a time I thought I might like to be a real teacher.  A few seventh graders cured me crazy and personally installed a healthy super-sized sense of respect for those with the apples on their desks. 

“Hi, I’m your substitute, Miss Schettler…”

“Wat that? Shitler?” snorts and chuckles.  Think that up all on your own did you?  Pink slip.

“Um, teacher.  Um, I was gonna wear that exact outfit today, but you know it don’t match.”  Poof.  I just chewed a mint through a filling.

“Uh, how old are you, cuz, I got sisters and they are older lookin’ than you?”  Wad of paper in my hair.

“Who threw that?” I ask in all the authority of a shaking Chihuahua.  The other teachers, the real teachers, would come in and “take over” rolling their eyes at the battered flesh that stood present at the front of the room, ie, Me aka Sub-stupid.

Today I got to teach a spin class to seventh and eighth graders.  “Oh-ho-ho, welcome to class.  Why didn’t anyone bring water?”

“We don’t need water.”  I’ll ask you again.

I stepped my class down 15 notches and dropped four songs off the workout.  I gave helpful encouragement and tried to instruct with a smile.  I really wanted them to have “fun” and find a love of working out, but I also wanted them to stop small talking and goofing off at the back of the class.  Five minutes into class all the giggles got gone and I had a group of chubby boys sweating at the neckline.  I backed it off even more and gave more cheers for their efforts.  A few smiled thrilled at the experience.  Two just sat on their bikes, but hey, they didn’t interrupt class.

At the end of class they said “thank you” and told me they had had fun.

And nobody called me Shitler.  And if they had…….

~ by drea on June 30, 2009.