What's the point of being Realistic?

So when I was working on my Bachelor’s degree, I had a agriculture education degree going on.  Now a lot of people look at me when I say that’s my bachelor’s like I have a horn growing out of my forehead, I promise people, I’m not a rhinoceros or a unicorn!  You may or may not know, I am now working on my Master’s… but get this, it’s in English.  Don’t read my writing here and feel sorry for me… this is my blog and I like (…..) and stuff like that, just saying.

Anyway we’re getting off topic.  An English Master’s is totally different than an agriculture education degree for sure, but they still go hand in hand.  Serious, you have to be well spoken and be able to read and write and grade and educate people on agriculture.  See, it all ties together.

Now when I was working on my bachelor’s degree my dad shot me an email in my first few semesters of college talking about what teacher’s made.  I loved it so much that I printed it out and pasted it right next to my desk where I studied as a great reminder as to why I was going through the difficultness I felt.  Oh and blogger says difficultness isn’t a word, well I just made it one for this post.

So now, here I am going back to school after a short length off trying to remember how to write papers… I turn my first one in today, it’s a New Critical Analysis of the poem To his Coy Mistress by Andrew Marvel.  I can share it with you if you’d like to see it :)… lol.

I’ve felt pretty stressed out these first few weeks of school and was wondering what the heck I was thinking, but slowly I feel like I’m getting my groove down… I hope!  I took my first quiz on Beowulf and failed it miserably.  But that was enough to kick my butt in gear and I passed the next ones with flying colors.  Oh and reading Beowulf, have you ever tried?  It’s written weird!  But again, beside the point.

I guess this post is to say, I’m looking for that reminder, that thing to get me through the hard times to remind me that there is a light at the end of the tunnel.  But for now I’ll leave you with Happy Friday and the poem of what teachers make.

WHAT TEACHERS MAKE
A poem by: Taylor Mali
The dinner guests were sitting around the table
discussing life. One man, a CEO, decided to explain
the problem with education. He argued:
“What’s a kid going to learn from someone who decided
his best option in life was to become a teacher?”
He reminded the other dinner guests that it’s true
what they say about teachers: “Those who can…do.
Those who can’t … teach.”
To corroborate, he said to another guest: “You’re a
teacher, Susan,” he said. “Be honest. What do you
make?”
Susan, who had a reputation of honesty and frankness,
replied, “You want to know what I make?”
I make kids work harder than they ever thought they
could. I can make a C+ feel like a Congressional Medal
of Honor and an A- feel like a slap in the face if the
student did not do his or her very best.”
“I can make kids sit through 40 minutes of study hall
in absolute silence.”
“I can make parents tremble in fear when I call home”
“You want to know what I make?”
“I make kids wonder.”
“I make them question.”
“I make them criticize.”
“I make them apologize and mean it.”
“I make them write.”
“I make them read, read, read.”
“I make them spell definitely beautiful, definitely
beautiful, and definitely beautiful over and over and
over again, until they will never misspell either one
of those words again.”
“I make them show all their work in math and hide it
all on their final drafts in English.”
“I make them understand that if you have the brains,
then follow your heart…and if someone ever tries to
judge you by what you make, you pay them no
attention!”
“You want to know what I make?”
“I make a difference.”
“And you? What do you make?”