Controlling the teacher rage. Barely.

I was mid-sentence when he shuffled in, 11 minutes late. Teaching a morning class for most semesters over the last seven years, I’ve tried to pretend like I’ve made peace with this type of tardy behavior, so I ignored him.

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Until a few minutes later, when he sauntered out, door slamming.

I continued the discussion.

Five minutes later, he returned– a banana, yogurt parfait, and orange juice in hand. I stopped lecture to ask “Did you really just leave class to get breakfast?!” After arriving 11 minutes late. For a 50-minute class.

I told the other students to quickly ask questions so I wouldn’t throw my clicker.

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I found some solace after posting a snarky snippet on Facebook and realizing at least the experience wasn’t like a friend’s colleague who’s student had Jimmy Johns delivered to the classroom. Can you imagine?

But I’ve stewed all day. Should I have kicked him out? Asked “Where’s mine?” Had a discussion about professionalism right there, taking away from actual class business?

My much funnier Facebook friends offered several suggestions that I will keep in my pocket for next time, but I remain flabbergasted. I try not to take things like this personally–Lord knows as a hangry Italian, I understand the need to eat–but it’s hard not to be bothered by blatant disrespect for the classroom environment.


Too annoyed for Xs and Os,

NaBloPoMo posts:
The best laid plans
I just realized how much I miss Google Reader
Christmas tree diet report
A grateful heart: Coffee-n-walks
Slow clap for Canada (and gender equity)
Flashback Friday: Swimming with dolphins
6 things I’m going to do before 2016, dammit
A grateful heart: A grump and a pint-sized bookworm
Why I appreciate Veterans in the classroom
V is for Victory. And Vitamix.
Je suis Paris
A grateful heart: Paella and friends
Embracing “old lady” shoes. Maybe.

NaBloPoMo November 2015 Badge


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