The Quiet Voice

I cannot yell. I cannot even raise my voice, it crackles and squeaks at a decibel above speaking and that is it.

I don't need to yell. Where does yelling get you? No where; well, unless up are being kidnapped or need to scare away wild animals in which case I am screwed.

Yesterday, one of my students says to me, "you are too nice. The class won't listen cause you don't get mad and yell". Should I (assuming I were able) need to yell in a classroom and get all vocally violent? No.

But I am silently screaming. I have 33-39 high school students per class. I had 45 yesterday because a few came from another class to use my computers and a few got locked out of class. 45 inner-city at risk youth, taking exams, on a Friday, hooped up on leftover Halloween candy. And they refuse to all shut the bleep up when I give instructions or a lecture. Their rudeness makes me silently scream am then I end up silently scolding myself. If only I could yell to be heard, maybe they would listen. If I could yell and scold them they would listen.

I feel like a little mouse stuck in a wildebeest stampede.

I have engaging lessons I worked hard on that just go to waste.

I feel like they don't care. Most don't and it is in part the education system and in part, their "at risk" home life.

I care about each and every one of them but they won't let me show it. Many pass with a D- at 20% by doing, well, 20% so why give their all? Why listen to me?

I feel like it is a disservice to them, to pass them at 20% because in the real world, that is failing.

I feel like I am giving 120% for them to pay attention to 20%. And it is incredibly exhausting.

Maybe, I tell myself, if I could just yell like every other teacher, they might listen.