You a Duck.

Duck.

That's what the boys call unattractive girls.  "You a duck." I hear them say it all the time.  "The cheerleaders, they all ducks."  "Ooh, you talkin' to that girl Nala? She a duck."

"Shut the duck up!" I finally told them. I explained how that was a sensitive issue for me, how I never wanted to hear my boys talking about girls that way.

Today they learned why. We are studying the geologic time scale (yes, again), so I asked them to bring in pictures of themselves as babies and children.  During their warm-up, they were to write about how they/things had changed since then.  As a little plug to get their attention, I put a couple of my own on a powerpoint.  Included in the presentation (called "The Evolution of Ms. M") was the worst picture ever taken of me.  Which is saying a lot.  It was at the peak of my awkward era--6th grade.  

Picture if you will a girl of slight frame--71 pounds to be exact.  Her hair is ashen blond and cropped just above her ear lobe--only an inch or so difference below her choppy bangs: essentially, a glorified bowl gut.  Her smile is radiant, if not full of metal, and her skin is colorless except for the liberal smattering of freckles across her nose.  The early-nineties style plaid dress that she chose for picture day is reminiscent of a Christmas tree skirt.  This IS the girl that is constantly at the butt of middle-school boys' jokes.

If I had ever thought my classroom was noisy before this, I was dead wrong.  The second I clicked over to that picture, the noise erupted into wails of laughter that echoed down the hall and alarmed Mr. Anderson enough to come in and check on us.  Kids were literally falling out of their desks.  Looking over my shoulder at the poor girl projected behind me, I had to join them.

"Ms. M--you UGLY! You was a DUCK!"

"Ms. M I wouldn'ta made fun of you, I'da just felt real sorry for you and probably not talked to you at all."

"Well, you come a long way, Ms. M."

After they had calmed down, I continued with my lesson. Ralph (the 6'2" trouble-maker) felt the need to talk over me the entire time, and I had to stop on several occasions to chastise him. Finally, I was nearing my conclusion:

"The earth is constantly changing, just like you.  Think back to my 6th grade picture.  Would you have recognized me? ("No.") Do I still look the same? Everyone shouted "NO!" in unison except for Ralph:

"YES. You STILL ugly!"

Without turning from the board I unthinkingly shot back, "Whatever. Your DAD thinks I'm cute!"

The class laughed almost as hard as when I showed the picture. Inappropriate? Probably. Satisfying? Most definitely.

 The more days go by, the more I realize how badly I suck at this.  So many people have tried to convince me otherwise:

"K, I find that hard to believe. I'm sure you're GREAT at it!!"

"I'm sure you're just hard on yourself.  You are probably WONDERFUL."

You're wrong. I'm not saying these things so that I can get my ego stroked, I'm saying them because they are true. Hopefully they won't be true for the whole year, but they most certainly are now. Pray that I will begin to focus on the positive and that I will learn to enjoy this job and these kids instead of hating my life Monday through Friday. Pray that the Lord will equip me to do this job well so that these kids get what they need.

I'm going to Tuscaloosa this weekend! Not before getting my ass kicked by a bunch of 8th graders for another five days though!