I’ve always loved teaching. It was anything but a random choice the day I first entered KU and was asked which college I wanted to be part of. “Tarbia” (the college of education) was considered a means to an end (I get to teach.. yay!).

I didn’t actually register there because of the intelligent open-minded population (note: sarcasm). I never really considered what the type of population would be like when I went to college anyways, I just had fun with the fact that I got to wear whatever I liked… no more crappy uniforms that change according to season (grey for summer and dark blue for winter :p).

“Adab” has its share of crazy slutty dressers, and I had no problem with my own dress style (JEANS! JEANS! JEANS!) because I didn’t really care about style in the first place. I knew that style wouldn’t affect any aspect of my studying since I’m a bona-fide under-dresser… nothing fancy schmancy and simple make-up… and THANK GOD NOTHING GLITTERY!

Anyways, it turned out I was supposed to be ASHAMED of the way I dressed because I was considered… uhm… “colorful” you can say. The majority wore black and… well that was it, just black.
So I went through college like, thinking it was hard but not as challenging as I expected. I enjoyed my days when I’d have classes in Adab, when I’d meet up with Jackie and go crazy basically. Having a laugh at Tarbia was considered a sin… I found out the hard way.

Throughout the whole 4 years of studying, I’d been teaching either my little brothers or imaginary people in my head. So at the beginning of this semester, I was faced with the truth that I was about to teach ACTUAL human beings that weren’t related to me in any way.
My first day at school was over-whelming. I had to meet administration, the English staff and be face to face with real teenage girls who were either rebellious, loveable, plain sticky or just plain weird.

The rebellious students talk back even if they don’t know you… they especially do this when I have “eshraf” (definition: when you work as a mock jail warden, strolling up and down the halls assigned to you, making sure nobody wrecks havoc or causes a fight… to my male readers: don’t u dare start fantasizing about teenage girl fights… they get supa-dupa-ugly). You tell a rebellious student to pick up a chocolate bar wrapper they threw on the ground. Their response? “ESHTABEEN?!?! SHFEEECH 7A6A 3ALAI?!!?”

…

The loveable ones are the ones who smile kindly when u talk to them, they’re smart and don’t make your blood pressure a problem you should consider for the near future. They’re the ones who making teaching fun and satisfying.

The sticky ones are tricky. They’re usually a hybrid of loveable & sticky, or of sticky & weird, or just sticky & sticky..
They… well I think u got it by now. They STICK to you when you don’t need them to. They’re the type of girls who used to piss me off when I was in middle school. They’d stick to the under-belly of a new young-looking teacher and ask the intrusive questions. The questions that would make any sane student ashamed of being in a class with a sticky-type student.

“MIIIIIS!!! Are you married?!?!”…. “MMIIISSS!!! What’s your husband’s name?!!?!”…. “MIISSS!!!! Is he cute?!?!!?”… “MIIIIIISSSSS?!?! When will you get pregnant?!!?!?”… “MIISS!?!?! Are you pregnant NOW?!?!”… I think, by now, you’ve got the idea.

Then comes the weird type… they’re the ones who eat paper, erasers and sometimes like to chew on water bottle caps just for fun. They do all of this while I’m teaching. They freak me out. They give me nightmares and make me thank God my mom was careful not to drop me on my head as a child.

Of course, when you have your share of write-about-able students, you also have the teachers to analyze. I know I should be ashamed of myself.. but the way I see it is that I’ve been talking about Tarbia students for years and I don’t see a difference.
But since this post has become long enough, I think the teachers’ part will have to wait for next time.

Till then…
Miss Swair signing out.