I sit around at work and I see the kids running around. It really bothers me that I can’t remember being a kid. I know there are reasons for my lack of memory of childhood. But the lack of memory bothers me. I remember the names of all of my elementary school teachers, but I don’t remember much about going to school.
In a way, I feel like I don’t understand my students. I don’t understand what it means to be a kid. I don’t understand how it’s so hard for them to sit still. Maybe understand isn’t the right word. I do understand on an intellectual level why kids are kids and why they behave the way they do. But I can’t seem to apply it on a personal level. I just don’t remember.
It’s frustrating. I think it keeps me from being the best teacher I can be. And of course, I’m such a perfectionist, that bothers me all the more.
Does this make me a bad person? I keep coming back to this question. It’s a dumb question. I know intellectually that I’m not a bad person. I haven’t killed anyone, although I have one or two students that are getting close. I don’t try to hurt people on purpose. But it was so ingrained in me that I am a horrible person that it’s hard for me to see that I’m not.
Part of me hurts really bad. I wish I could understand childhood on more than an intellectual level. I wish I could understand the emotional part of it. I wish I could understand the freedom. I wish I could understand the trust. I feel like I’ve lost so much. I wonder who I would be today if I had a different past.
I should be grateful I’m alive. Many children in my circumstances don’t get out alive. All in all, my mind is fairly intact. I can function in society, for the most part. I have my quirks, but then again, so do most people.
Another rambling, incomprehensible post…