worms don’t care

Published April 27, 2011 by Lynda Christine Rodriguez

And neither do I.

And in other news, I feel awful. Physically Awful.  Maybe it’s because I’m choking on my own rage. (I know, that’s not news.)

I am amazed at the blanket assumptions that are made on a daily basis.  (I am speaking of a specific incident, yet having to use generalities because if i start raging rages and naming names it would be disadvantageous.)

I’m not sure why I care or bother anymore.

There is at least one student for whom I am trying to hold it together.  By it, I mean my frazzled nerves and dented psyche.

This is not a new feeling.  I have been an arts educator for oh, twenty years or so.  The battle never really changes, the battleground does.

I don’t know why the personal, thinly veiled insults are bothering me today.

It should be enough to know that I am smart and qualified and dedicated and educated.

It should be.

Except when I spend all day trying to keep other people motivated when I’m trying to give a crap, it’s just not enough to  know what I should..

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