The Math Teacher's Beatitudes

Blessed are the teachers of math to 6th grade boys,

for theirs is a dark corner of the pantry and a jar of peanut butter and bag of chocolate chips

Blessed are those who beat their head against the wall after explaining percentages for the 90 kazillionth time, for they shall see a long hot bath at the end of the day.

Blessed are those who mourn low test scores even though they went over these exact same problems the day before,

for they will be comforted by the thought that one day this child will graduate and move out of your house and get a job.  Hopefully in retail.  Where they have to work with percentages.  

Blessed are those who hunger and thirst after kids who can do their math homework in less than two hours and without getting distracted by hunting or football or butterflies,

for they will be filled with the knowledge that they hid some chocolate underneath the carrots in the fridge.

And blessed are you, moms and teachers, when you don't strangle someone when they still can't say their 9s multiplication table after years of practice,

for you will be shown mercy later in  life when they start studying calculus and realize how ridiculously clueless you are and you have to call in for reinforcements.   

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To read my other thoughts about teaching math to disinterested and ungrateful children, go here.

This is the expression I get to stare out all during math class most days.  It makes me think of Kanye's poignant and inspiring ballad Golddigger:

He got that ambition, baby, look in his eyes
This week he mopping floors next week it's the fries

Let's keep the hope alive, people.  And Happy Friday to all the teachers!  Let's go do this thing!