Road Trip Recap

Other possible titles for this post:
"Too Young to be Old; Too Old to be Young."
Or, "Big Ball of Awkward."
Or perhaps, "Student Teacher Temptress." Please God, no.

Gah. I'm still cringing.

The boys talked about their drinking stories the whole way up. Little Lincoln ended up going in a different car so they had no incentive to censor-- apparently, I wasn't reason enough. I told them, "I'm going to pretend you're talking about Koolaid." Tried to distract them with traveling stories, but as soon as they had a chance to talk again, we were once more talking about inebriation and destruction of property.

Annie texted me in response to this report: "Haha! I love how comfortable they are with you!"

Well... or not. Told Viola about the car ride and she said, "You really shouldn't let them talk about that stuff-- it could misconstrued as you, like, encouraging them to do that. You just have to be careful-- make sure you tell them that they can't talk about that anymore with you."

"Right. You're absolutely right," I nodded. Thought: "Stupid. Stupid. How did I not figure that out when they were talking about it?"

Then she said, "I have to tell you what the girls told me in my car: apparently Dylan has a HUGE crush on you!" She laughed.

"Oh nooo..." I said.

Tried to act normal about everything though. The boys rode in my car the whole weekend, so I tried adjusting my demeanor to a more ADULT, PROFESSIONAL, I-am-NOT-in-fact-closer-to-your-generation-than-to-my-middle-aged-colleagues kind of attitude. I think I was kind of awkward about it though. I ended up being mostly sarcastic and grumpy.

Friday afternoon, I heard one of the girls, Kimberly-- a chatty, brash, self-identified lesbian say, "I want Greta on my team!"
"What?" I asked.
"Nothing!" she grinned.

I found out that the boys-slash-Kimberly called out "My team" whenever they saw someone that they wanted "dibs" over-- that they were attracted to. I reported this finding to Viola.
"Wait-- didn't someone call you for THEIR team?" she asked.
"Yes," I said grimly. "Kimberly." And she laughed again.

The worst was Friday night though. Jane, the theatre teacher, had to go tell the kids to be quiet. She'd mentioned earlier in the day that she felt like she always had to be the bad guy, so I decided to go stand beside her in solidarity. She was standing in front of the guys' room, and when I stood beside her and looked into the room, I saw Aaron in just his shorts. My eyes opened wide and I turned right around to walk back to my room.

This was a mistake. Because by LEAVING, it meant Aaron was able to CHASE AFTER ME. Which he did. Naked chested. And then tried to thrust his naked-chestedness into the room as I tried to shut the door on him.

Are you cringing? Because FRICK, I am.

This is what I should have done: I should have been stoic and aloof in the first place, and stayed the course beside Jane as she told them to shut up, never mind the scantily clad high-schoolers. OR, if I couldn't have done that, I should have turned around on Aaron and unleashed the wrath of a thousand furies by roaring, "THAT IS COMPLETELY INAPPROPRIATE AND YOU NEED TO STAND DOWN SOLDIER!" Instead, I freaked out, tried to run away, ended up batting him away like a stupid teenager, and just about burned up in blushingness.

The whole weekend was a miserable confrontation with THE LINE. I feel like "the line" has been well-established with my freshmen and sophomores. They KNOW I'm their teacher, and they treat me as such. None of them would ever even THINK of chasing me down a hotel hallway, and if they did, I KNOW my first instinct would be to ask them incredulously, "What the H are you doing??" But I haven't practiced being a teacher to seniors yet-- and they haven't seen me as the up-front teacher of a lesson, or as the governor of a classroom. To them-- I'm the exception. I'm the cute young intern who lets them get AWAY with stuff. Of course they do: kids are always pushing boundaries; it's MY job to assert myself and make sure they follow them. But when a 6'2" mostly naked 18-year-old is chasing me down a hallway, my instincts kick in, and unfortunately: my instincts in those situations still say RUN.

Complicating things further is the fact that, under normal circumstances, I WOULD probably pal around with these kids. When we dropped them off at the dance on Friday night, I started getting into the music and thought it would be fun to go in and dance WITH them-- but realized, of course, that I couldn't. I "got" all their pop-culture references, and all their jokes. They're all cool, interesting people-- and being with the boys put me in the same frame of mind as being with my little brother, who's their same age. I realized that my reaction to their stories in the car-- laughing and chiding them-- was the same kind of reaction I have when my little brother tells me a story of misbehavin'. That was the instinctual response. But the response that I must learn is not the "big sister" response. It is not the "25-year-old" response. It is not the "friend" response. It is the TEACHER response.

"Teacher response" hindsight is 20/20. And makes me feel incredibly foolish when analyzing the actions that actually occurred.

Viola returned to the subject today, saying that I should have distanced myself from Dylan as soon as I realized that he had a crush on me, and went on further to say that running away from Aaron seemed flirtatious. I spent the rest of the day feeling horrified and mortified. Morhorified. Though she told me she knew I didn't mean to come across that way at ALL and that I clearly wasn't doing anything wrong intentionally, I just had to be very careful with these boys. Her ending disclaimer didn't make me feel much better.

I know I'm learning still. I know I'll have a brand new slate next year. I know that the next time any one of these situations happens I will KNOW how to respond. But in the meantime...

Gah. I'm still cringing.

It Starts

Boy Student 1: "Is that a ring on your finger? Are you engaged??"
Me: "It's on my right hand, goof."
Boy Student 1: "Do you have a boyfriend?"
Me: "That's not really any of your business."
Boy Student 1: "Woah! Why you gotta be all offended?!"
Boy Student 2: "She's all offended now!"
Me: "YES, I have a boyfriend."
Boy Student 1: "How old is he?"
Boy Student 2: "Look, she's getting all pink!"
Me: "We're FOCUSING ON CLASS right now."

I was flustered for the rest of the day. I told Viola about it. She said, "Oh, Greta-- you have to be so firm with them! Don't smile, or joke, or anything-- just be clear that talking like that is INAPPROPRIATE. You are their TEACHER. And don't worry about them not liking you afterwards-- they'll get over it. You just have to be FIRM."
"Ack. I know. I knew what to do in my head, but when it actually happened, I just got all flustered! Did I screw myself over by not telling them that it was inappropriate from the get-go? I shouldn't have even ADMITTED that I had a boyfriend!"
"No, no-- you did nothing wrong. But you should talk to them tomorrow and be CLEAR that talking like that to you is crossing the line."

At lunch, with the other teachers:
Viola: "Did you hear what the boys said to Greta?? They're all in love with her."
Other teacher: "You're going to have to get used to that. You're kind of a babe."
Me: "Crap."

Later, talking to a friend.
Me: "This happened today. Ack. This is what I said. Ack."
Friend: "You should have said THIS!"
Me: "I KNOW WHAT I SHOULD HAVE SAID! And I've said it a whole bunch in my head...! But in the moment, you know- it's like on a game show! You just freeze! Aaagggh. Ackity ack smack attack."

Today:
Me, whispering to Boy Student 1: "Clark, I need to you stay after class for a sec."
Me, whispering to Boy Student 2: "Adam, I need you to stay after too. Adam? Did you hear me? Just for a sec."

After class:
Me, to Boy Students 1 and 2: "So... I know that you were probably trying to be funny and joke around yesterday when you asked if I had a boyfriend, or if I was engaged, but you need to know that talking like that is inappropriate. I am your teacher, and you are my students, and there is a LINE that shouldn't be crossed. Our lives meet when it involves your education, but NOT my personal life. Asking questions like that is crossing the line. Okay?"
Boy Student 2: "Yeah, we get it. You're our teacher, not our friend."
Me: "I am your teacher, first and foremost."

Me, to Viola: "This is what I said."
Viola: "That's perfect! Sorry I wasn't there to back you up-- I was trying to shoo everyone else out. And how did they respond?"
Me: "Clark seemed fine-- you know, a little awkward, but he'll get over it. But Adam seemed angry. Which is to be expected-- I knew that, if either of them were going to get angry, it would be him."
Viola: "He said, 'Bye TEACHER' on the way out the door to me."
Me: "That was probably in response to me saying that I was their teacher, not their friend. But I can't just be their FRIEND! I would be a pretty terrible teacher if I was only trying to be their friend."
Viola: "You did PERFECT. You were clear, but you didn't condemn them. Awwww, good job honey!!"

And that is the first story of flirting testosteroni teenagers. Curse my blushing tendencies.