Nibbled to Death by Ducks

Nothing huge and eventful has happened this week, just a lot of medium-sized
things. Now on Friday, I’m feeling pretty tired.

Things have happened this week ranging from amusing, productive, frustrating or just a weary ordeal.

Monday started the week off right away with a moment that I don’t even know what
category to put it in. You can decide.

My Speech students were due to begin their Commemorative presentations on
Monday. This assignment was given a week and a half ago and we have been doing
nothing but working on it in class the last week.

A student (I’ll call him… Pelzo) came in Monday during morning tutorials time.
He was wearing black slacks and a button down shirt- classic presentation garb.
So I assumed he was ready to give his speech. Silly me.

I promise that the following exchanges all really happened.

Pelzo: Miss! I don’t got anything.
Me: What do you mean?
Pelzo: My speech. I’m not ready, I didn’t write anything.

*pause*

Me: Well. What did you think was going to happen when you came to school on
speech presentation day? You dressed up.
Pelzo: Can you help me?
Me: Help you how? Be specific.
Pelzo: Write my speech. What do I say?

-It’s times like this that my brain tries to violently escape from my
skull. It certainly feels like it’s smashing itself against my forehead in an
effort to flee from the situation.-

Me: Pelzo. We’ve been preparing for this speech for a week and a half. What did
you do in class all last week? Where’s your outline handout I gave you?
Pelzo: I lost it.
Me: The outline?
Pelzo: Everything. Yeah, the outline.
Me: So you wrote a speech and then you lost it. And your outline.
Pelzo: Yeah.
Me: I thought you said you didn’t write anything.
Pelzo: Yeah.

-At this moment I think if there was silence one could have heard the death
rattle of my sanity plunging into the abyss of ridiculousness-

Me: Sit down and write out why someone in your life has impacted you.
Pelzo: Impact? No one hits me.

(Duh. That’s why it’s called ‘knocking some sense into someone.’ You missed
that day)

Me: No- impact like meaningful; who means a lot to you. Write out personal
stories to share about your relationship.
Pelzo: Ok.

Pelzo sits down and I go back to my desk.

*Two minutes elapse*

Pelzo: Miss, you got paper?
Me: Yes. In the bin at the front.

*two more minutes elapse*

Pelzo: Hey Miss, you got a pencil?

- I pause here, and I stare at him for a second. I’m not making any sort of
face, I’m truly just trying to understand.-

Me: Yes. In the bin at the front. With the paper.

Now I thought surely he was up to his quota for the day. Another question
couldn’t come out of him. And I could not have been more wrong. He had been
holding back. He lulled me into a false sense of security by waiting more than
two minutes.

*TEN minutes later*

Pelzo: Miss, what’s Mexico?
Me: What you mean, what’s Mexico? Use more words, please.
Pelzo: Like, what is it? A city?
Me: Mexico City is a city.
Pelzo: No, Miss- like Mexicoooooo.

He then proceeds to stretch his arms out wide to the sides and look at me
quizzically.

Pelzo: Like, big Mexico.

No way. No way. He can’t mean…

Me: Mexico is a country.
Pelzo: Cool.

And I think I just died a little inside. I’m pretty sure I did. I just lost my
gallbladder or something because of that conversation.

Now at the end of the week, the only feeling I have in my body is just “tired.”
It’s not even a productive tired. It’s like getting a slow beat down all week.
Sometimes I feel like I’m being nibbled to death by ducks. A bite on it’s own
doesn’t hurt very much at all (like one question: Can I go to the bathroom? Why
do I have to do this? How old are you?) but multiply that by about a thousand a
day and it takes the life out of you.

Amen for the weekend.