temper temper
The air’s cooler but hasn’t quite turned cold. No one is around. It’s the last day of vacation and the K-12 and it’s neighboring university are all but deserted. I’m sitting on the steps by the university soccer field. Down at the far end of the field, a couple of students practice dribbling by each other. It’s late in the afternoon and the sun has started to set.
It’s been a strange time here. I’m in a situation that’s new to me. Yet, the thing that worries me on this afternoon is an old problem. It’s one that I thought I’d left behind a long time ago. It’s the return of the temper.
A long time ago, in a land called Redding, I was the angriest little kid you could find. When I was happy, I was very happy. When I was mad, stay away. I was known to fly out of control at the smallest thing. I would scream in rage and pout for days. I’d grind my teeth at night. Slowly, as I got older, this thing left me. I found myself better able to control it.
It’s back! This time, I know what the trigger is but I still can’t stop it. It’s the 8th graders. It scares me sometimes when I lose control in class. Their beligerance and lack of respect completely set me off. Some of the students have called me stupid in class. One went so far as to say, "Fuck you" to my face. When this happens, I blow up. I can feel it coming. Justifiable to be angry about kids like that? Maybe, but it’s scary when you can’t control yourself. It starts from down low inside. Then it bursts out. I scream at the kid. I slam my fist on his/her desk as hard as I can (I broke a desk) because I can’t touch the kid. It almost always shocks the students that someone who seems pretty calm and nice can explode like that. Yet, when it happens, I often surprise myself by what I say. I actually yelled at some kids to "shut the f*** up," today.
A few weeks ago, I told a student that he was retarded.
Did I actually use that word? I thought to myself as soon as I said it. I have to stop. It’s scaring me that I’m not only losing control, but that I don’t know what I might say. This could be bad.
So, as the cool breeze flows around me and the leaves fly past me, I sit and think of ways to curb my temper.
