The price of ethics and values

I'm still shocked for some people's attitudes. I cannot believe that in my former perfect world of teaching you can find certain vices which make the teaching practice quite questionable.

Since I started teaching in fourth grade, I found myself with a complex group. Half of them were lazy, misbehaved, and didn't care even an inch about English. From the first test I gave them, realizing that they were bellow the standard level they were supposed to have, I talked to the head of the English department (to whom I'll refer as SPDM) to notify her what was going on. She told me not to worry about it...until parents' complaints arrived. One day, an overexcited mother came to school and talked to me in a disrespectful way at plain sight of everyone, almost screaming that she wouldn't sign that test because her son got a 2, and she couldn't accept that HER son had such a low mark. SPDM arrived at that precise moment and kept on walking. She hid herself in an office where she could see from the distance how I was being mistreated by this outraged mother. Obviously...she did nothing. When the mother went away, I was feeling quite bad, and SPDM called me asking to gossip what had happened. I looked at her, and started telling her some important things of the mother's monologue. SPDM only said: "I didn't know what was happening, and I didn't want to break into your conversation out of the blue." My next thought was: "You only wanted to cover your back" but I didn't say that to her.

The following day, I received a threat from one of my students. This little monster told me with an ironic smile: "Miss, my mother is coming tomorrow to speak with you... with some other mothers also...about the test results, juaz!" I only answered: "Great! They are going to save me the trouble of calling to tell them how bad you're behaving, and the lack of interest you have with the subject"

Immediately after that, I went and informed the school authorities what had happened and the following day I was walking with the school Director behind me as a bodyguard. I didn't want that...I haven't done anything wrong after all. My only interest was (and still is) my students' well fare. Apparently nobody believed it. In the end, the only ones who came to me, where those parents really concerned about their children learning process, asking in a very polite way, how they could help to improve their knowledge and their marks as a result of that.

Then I realised that I love teaching, but dealing with parents is something I will have to learn, and I will have to accept some day as one of the unfortunate but undeniable consequences of teaching. I love my students, but I don't like parents.

I'm on both sides, meaning I'm a teacher and a mother, and I know how to deal with teachers in relation to my son's learning. I know that respect is the first thing I have to consider when asking a teacher about my son's performance at school. I'm fully aware that my son might be an angel at home but a little savage at school. He might be perfect doing his homework with me, but he might also be a pain in the neck for his teacher at school. Why is it that other parents don't consider all this?

I gave them another test, and more or less, the same that failed the first, failed this one. However, some of them passed with a good mark, showing how much effort they made to pass. Of course, I told SPDM which were the results, and I asked her about the possibility of not giving the test results to the students, to avoid demotivating them. She told me that it was OK, and if they ask I could say that I won't give them the results without explaining anything. That day, I went to the classroom and I told them that I wouldn't give them the results because in general terms, they were not so good, and I didn't want to make them feel bad.

The next day, the same outraged came to ask me to show her the test. When I showed the test, he started developing an insane rage against her son. He got a 4. She saw that he couldn't recognize colours in one exercise, and after listening to me this time, she ended up saying: "I'm so sorry...now I can understand that the problem is not you, but my son...I have nothing else to say...I'm speechless"

When I told this to the authorities, they had a positive reaction. Nevertheless, SPDM asked me to fill in the mark forms in pencil, and give my students a quiz the following week to see if I could improve them. Exactly half of the course had a failing mark for their reports. I did as I was told. After a week and no improvement in my students' commitment, I told SPDM: "I did as you asked me to, but there are no improvements...the marks will have to remain the same." "OK, don't worry about it, but we are going to call a parents meeting to deliver the reports, and I want you to be there to explain the situation to them" She answered. And I didn't worry.

Last Monday I went to work and after I greeted my students, the same student that threaten me a month before, jumped up from her chair and asked ironically: "Miss why do I need help in English if I have a 5 in my report?" I stayed puzzled for a second, because I knew for certain that the mark I gave this particular child was a 3. Since I was speechless, some others also talked and said things like: "Thanks miss for gifting me a 4, I thought I would have a 1 because of my test results and my bad behaviour"; "It was not that important to pass the tests...you gave me a five after all"; "I'm not that bad...I've got a 5" etc etc etc.

I just wanted to go out and start running...I wanted to cry...I wanted to kill someone...I was...heartbroken.

When I could react, I said: "You know for sure that the marks you have in your reports are not real marks, right? Someone has changed the marks I put. By someone, I'm not meaning neither you nor your parents...but someone here within the school. When were your reports delivered?." "On Friday, Miss. But there wasn't a formal meeting, parents just came, looked for the reports and went away" They answered.

The first girl who spoke, was cheating in her first test, and I personally told her mother that she was cheating, because of which she would have a low mark in her report. I also asked her mother to send her to a private teacher, because, leaving aside the cheating thing, she was clueless in English. The mother agreed with me and promised looking for help. Now this girl, having a five, told me: "My mother and I were wondering why should I take extra private classes if I'm not that bad." I tried to make her understand in a different way, but without saying her real mark, that she didn't deserve a 5.

Of course, at the moment I didn't know what to do. I was shocked. I went to look for SPDM when I finished my class, but she wasn't there.

How can someone change someone else's marks without even informing? Was I a puppet for them? How could they modify my marks if they weren't there when my students did or did not do all the things that justified my marks? How could I look at those students who really worked a lot and did all their efforts to pass? The others who didn't care, didn't have the marks they deserved. How could I look at those little hopeless faces? They would think that I was speaking nonsense when I told them about their possible marks. What would their parents think? I would be on the spot for the rest of the year? They would be waiting for anything to happen to come an shoot me with their accusations. How could they give a passing mark to someone who doesn't know, and expect me to be OK with that?

The following morning, I was so sad that I didn't want to talk to anybody. I was secluded at home trying to study for my exams, but I couldn't link one idea with another. I couldn't concentrate myself, and I just wanted to cry out of impotence and rage towards the system. The only thing I could think about, was in delving into my mind to find a possible justification for such a reaction on behalf of the school's authorities. I didn't now what to do, but I knew for certain that I didn't want to go back to school and face my students. I was really ashamed, even when I had nothing to do with the changing of the marks. After all, I was the one to blame if the parents found out that their children didn't know and their marks didn't show that.

My mother phoned me, and after listening to my voice, she asked me what was happening. When I told her the whole story, she was as shocked as I was, and told me to phone my father and ask for his advice. I did it. My dad is my compass in my teaching practise. Not in content matters, because he is an accountancy teacher, but in everything else which is related to the profession itself. He's been teaching for 36 years now, and he has worked in many places, including being the President of Junta Media de clasificación two years ago. So, he knows something.

The moment I finish my speech...he remained speechless for a while. "Daddy, are you there? What is happening? Please, tell me what should I do...I don't know what can I do"...(silence)...

"When I was 25, I worked at a private school and they wanted to do the same to me...I was married and I had a son, but I quited" he said in a broken voice. "The thing is that I wanted to do the same, but I wasn't so sure about such a drastic measure. However, I'm convinced that my dignity doesn't have a price" I said. "The other possibility you have is that you stay there...but how would you feel?" He asked. " Bad" I said trying to avoid my urge to cry. "So there's no other way out" he finished.

He dictated me the resignation letter, and said that I should go and ask for an explanation. I should argue in any aspect, even when I really wanted to clarify my position, and justify my decision. I shouldn't talk, I only had to listen to them. I had to wait until they finish talking and hand in my resignation letter without explanations. So I did.

The problem was that my resignation letter wasn't accepted, and SPDM got crazy when she read the content. She started threatening me, and trying to convince me that it wasn't that terrible what they had done. At one point she said that I shouldn't be such a fool to resign for so little problem, which in fact was not a problem, but a common practice among all the teachers. Wen she understood that I wouldn't discuss my decision with her, she threatened me with legal things.

Anyway...since things went nasty, I phone again my father and he told me to go to the post office, and send a telegram with my resignation.

I had so many projects, I had so many ideas! I wanted to go on working with those children, trying to teach them...but REALLY teach them English. I was absolutely determined to put them at the level they should be. They caused me many headaches, they put tears in my eyes, but they were MY students, my little boys and girls, my rough stones that I wanted to polish...they would have become my pieces of art. I thought about so many things to do with them in order to help them learn. They were my first real challenge in my teaching practice...and I didn't have the chance to say good bye to them, I couldn't explain why I was leaving them...I couldn't tell them that they were not the reason why I left...

My God, why did the authorities do that? If only they haven't done it...

I'm so sad...

So sad...

My dignity isn't for sale...they should have thought about it. I wouldn't stay there just for a monthly payment under those circumstances. I may be "new" in their eyes, but I've been teaching for five years now. Moreover, leaving my teaching experience aside...I'm a 28 year-old person, full of high values, and brought up on the basis of ethics...how is it that they didn't take that into account? How did they imagine that I would leave things as they changed them without complaining? Was I a puppet for them? Just a person to keep those children closed in a room for four hours a week? Just a baby-sitter?

They didn't take into account that even when I don't have my degree yet, I'm an English Teacher whose main interest is not to keep "clients" at school, but to really teach children and be there working for their improvement.

I'm so sad...

So sad...

My ups, downs and upside downs

Some days I feel I can reach whatever I want, and actually doing it fills me with pleasure and satisfaction. During those few days I'm powerful. I'm happy for finally having found my path after so many years. I'm one hundred percent sure that teaching was, is, and will always be my destiny. I experience confidence in my teaching practise. I don't leave space to doubts and hesitation in my decisions.

However, for some time, since I started my fourth year, I've been having many doubts. I started thinking that I was not good enough. That I wouldn't be able to teach anyone. I started wondering how is it that I'm in my studies' last step. Failing almost every assignment I had to hand in for my language classes lead me to the big question of: How much (or how little) do I know?

Nowadays, I'm feeling also quite frustrated due to my resignation to the teaching job I had, which is actually the topic for a whole new entry.

I'm feeling blue, I'm feeling down. Even when I try to manage my sadness, at some point, I start feeling restless, impotent and with a huge urgency to cry in despair.

For some time I can also experience different feelings. It's not a clear-cut distinction between feeling greatly up and feeling extremely down. I also have my few upside down moments, in which the huge mixture of my own sentimental roller coaster is absolutely overwhelming.

During those days, I cannot make up my mind, because I feel confused to the limits. I have the sensation of being in a train that doesn't want to stop, where I can see everyone but not look closely at anyone. During those days, I generally feel that I'm in a hurry. I don't have time to spare. I don't have the right to waste my time.

My upside downs mean that I'm less tolerant than ever, I'm not patient with people. I start thinking that I'm only good at treating children and teenagers. Adults become a mysterious thing I cannot neither manage not stand with. For example, at home, I cannot stand looking at my husband, but I'm in great terms with my son. At work, I used to be quite relaxed and calmed with my students, but I couldn't talk to any grown-up, not even in friendly and shallow way.

The worst problem here is that I still don't know who I can blame because of these sudden changes in my mood. Sometimes, I know that the environment may be a powerful instrument to change my state of mind. Some others, people's social insanity drives me mad. But on some occasions, when I'm completely and absolutely clueless, I can only blame my hormones and try to spend my time doing positive things which might divert my attention from the unpleasant state of mind in which I am.

Sickness

I'm sick and I don't feel like writing anything. My husband would say I should stay in bed, but I don't want to.
I'm three weeks away from my winter holidays and I'm planning to take advantage of the time I have. I really want to have a rest at least for fifteen days. That's the duration of my son's winter holidays. I really want to spend some more time with him.
I'm not at home now, even when I physically am. My mind is busy working in everything I have to finish between today and July 6Th.
The good news is that I've already finished my teaching practice for this period. I don't have to wake up at 5.50 a.m. every Wednesday to be on time at school. I don't have to wait for the crowded bus. Full of teenagers and children...so little. How can they be up and travelling by bus at that hour? Every day?
My God! My son also goes to school early in the morning. Sometimes I feel like keeping him at home with me. A minute later, I realize that I also went to school very early in the morning...and I'm still alive. Moreover, nowadays I also get up at 6.50 a.m. ... everyday... and stay up... studying and working on all my school assignments.
No, I'm not a housewife, I hate housewives duties. That's why I'm looking for a daily maid. I have one twice a week now, and my house stays clean easily. We are three after all. We don't mess everything up. We try to keep an order at home. None of us like ordering things. One should keep his schoolbag in his bedroom. The other should keep his coats, and tools away from sight...that's not so easy. The kitchen round table is almost all the time messy. Books, folders, tools, my laptop suitcase... I try cleaning and ordering it...but I don't like ordering things... however I hate more being in a messy place. I don't like coming back home every day at almost 1.00 a.m. and find out that there's no order at home, that something isn't clean.
I don't like waiting for someone to do the things we all should do.
I don't like housekeeping, but I always end up doing it myself. My husband helps...at times. But he has the idea of being the only one who does something at home. I don't argue, I already have problem outside my house. Why should I bother if the kitchen table is full of things which doesn't belong there?
I'm sick, I don't feel like writing anything. I don't want to go to bed. I have to take advantage of the time I have....I'm only three weeks away from winter holidays...
Only three weeks away...
Only three...

Some of my onion layers

I'm not a perfect person, I'm full of flaws, but I'm always trying to keep away my bad side, to avoid affecting people around me. I know that sometimes I can be a really harmful person, but honestly...I don't mean it. I'm sorry if I hurt or bother you without noticing it.
Since I was more or less thirteen years old, I denied myself the possibility of being in good terms with people. I had my close friends, of course, but I wasn’t a common lovable person. A really sad event in my family made me believe that I was worthless to the world. That’s why I used to think that if the world didn’t care about me, why should I care about the world?
My parents would always say: “Be careful with what people can think about you, be very careful with the image you give to the world”
I don’t know if it was due to resentment or what, but I’ve always done the opposite. In fact, when I got pregnant, the least thing I cared about was ‘what would people say.’
This year, maybe because it is my last year (I hope) at Teacher Training College, I've been trying to be in harmony with everyone around me, and I found out how difficult that can be. I cannot say which the thing that made a ‘click’ on me was. However, I have to recognize that until last year, I didn't care much about being OK with everyone.
Nowadays… it has become a must in my life.
I don't want to be misunderstood, I don't want to be in troubles I don't make, I don't like being in the twister's eye. Nevertheless, no matter how hard I push myself to achieve that, I always end up participating in conflicts in which I'm not the only one to be blamed. I've always thought that in every problem in which more than one person are involved, no matter their degrees of guilt, both parts share faults. One for doing something that might hurt the other, and the other for giving the space and opportunity to be hurt.
As I said, this year I'm different, and this is maybe because I've learnt that sometimes I've been so concentrated in victimizing myself, that I didn't take into account which were my own faults in every sad thing someone else provoked. Also, because I strongly believe that by feeling in that way, you may not be focused enough to know that your bad attitudes may diminish in many ways the degree of harm others might have caused before.
I'm too critical with myself in every aspects of my life, and because of that, other people’s destructive critics might strengthen my own constructive ones. Although when someone says something which is not well backed up by a coherent attitude, I just don't care.
All of us carry our own burdens, but this doesn't mean that we are entitled with the right to hurt others due to our depression, sadness, lack of self-esteem or any other negative state. We have to be very careful with the way, and with whom we release our nervous tension. In my case, for example, when I have some problems at home, I might be quieter at school, meaning that I'm not as talkative as usual. I don't remember answering rudely to one of my classmates due to the "issues" I carry from home.
In every place I am, I do the same. In other words, if I'm angry with you, I'll show my anger to you, not to others. If I'm not angry with you, I might look for you to lean my head in your shoulder and stay calm.
Again, I'm not perfect, I'm full of flaws, but I never blame others for the things I didn't do, or the frustration I may feel for whatever reason. I'm not that kind of person. That's why I don't understand people who are insanely angry with me, but cannot say why.
Most of the times, if not always, anger is provoked by something specific, so, you cannot say that you don't know why you are angry with someone. It’s possible that you may not remember the reason, but the plain fact is that there's always one.
People who really give themselves the chance to know the real me, realize that I'm an unconditional friend who is twenty-four-seven willing to help. However, I accept that sometimes I'm not an easygoing person. I also admit that I frequently speak more than I should, or do things which produce certain types of damage in someone else's heart without intention. Nonetheless, I don't have problems when I have to agree with somebody's complaints and humbly say "I'm sorry". For this reason, if I ask you forgiveness and your answer is sending me to hell, please, don't blame me for going to hell, and not coming back to keep on walking with you side by side.
It’s not only the wounds I carry the ones that hurt. It’s when someone I care is suffering when I can’t stand with people’s meanness.
I’m not mean, and I don’t like someone else making me look as a mean person. I’m fighting with my inner self trying to be a better person, please don’t make me think that this rotten world doesn’t worth the effort.
You know... I'm like this. I write nonsense sometimes. It may not be easy for people to understand my writing. The thing is that I don't know if it is that important describing situations literally as they are. I embrace the hope that makes me believe that the ones involved in my descriptions will understand.
Sometimes I'm afraid of hurting someone else’s feelings. This blog is my space of reflection. I don't have to put everyone on the spot, do I? Is it fair that I do such thing due to my problems in dealing with them? I don’t think so. Lest the ones fully described don’t know a word in English. In which case I’m not hurting them…they just don’t know how I feel.

Just a little bit of consideration

I don't why is it that I'm so sad if the ones involved in the problem haven't said anything to me.
Today is the father's day and my husband received a gift from me, and a gift from his mother. My mother was absolutely absent in gifts.
Last Wednesday, I was talking with my mother while showing her what I have bought to my father and husband, and she told me that was determined not to buy anything neither for my father nor for my husband. When she said that, I instantly thought that my father wouldn't receive a gift just because my mother didn't want to buy anything for my husband. Facing her determination, I just said: "Have just a little bit of consideration, and think who pays for your mother's days, and birthdays gifts."
My younger brother who was also there, agreed with me and said that she was being mean, and that she should not behave in that way.
She just said: "You are obliging me to go downtown next Friday, and it's going to be a nightmare"
The whole issue stayed there, but I thought she understood that I was referring to both fathers in the family.
Apparently, I was not clear enough.
On Friday I went to her house and she showed me lots of bags with things she had bought that morning. There was my father's gift, but nothing for my husband.
I didn't say anything because I thought she would buy something little and cheap for him on Saturday when she would go to the supermarket. I thought, "OK, maybe she will buy a cologne or something like that. After all, it is just the intention"
Today we went to her house and she was preparing the barbecue. When she came to the kitchen where I was preparing the salads, I asked her in a whisper:"Did you buy something for Gonzalo?". She answered with a denying face: " Did I have to?" I just gave her a smile and said nothing.
The funny part is that after that she was angry. I didn't want to look at her.
I was frustrated. My husband's mother is a real witch with me, but she always gives me something for my birthday and for mother's day. This is not the first time my mother doesn't give anything to my husband for special occasions. I know they don't have a good relationship, but a symbolic gift would have been enough to me. She should have done for me, not for my husband.
I wonder what she would feel if my brother's future wife didn't give her anything just for the same reason she doesn't: "He/She is not my father/mother!"
My God, what kind of answer is that?
I know I may be wrong, I'm always opened to the possibility of being wrong. But I feel I cannot discuss anything with her. She is so close-minded. Sometimes I want to punch her on her face, and make her react.
Please God...Help me not to care!
I can't stand her reactions, and it is worse when I think that she goes to mass every Saturday to pray God, and play the part of a good religious person.
How can you be devoted to God if you set the limit of that to one weekly hour, and you are so mean with people around you?
The thing is that my husband didn't say anything, because I know he doesn't care about receiving gifts. However, as I previously said, it's not that I needed her to spend a big amount, it's not an empty materialism in me speaking. Everything I feel now is limited to my mother's lack of consideration in not maintaining the symbolism of giving a gift to the responsible of her grand-motherhood.

One of my onion layers

I'm not a perfect person, I'm full of flaws, but I'm always trying that my bad side don't affect that much people around me. I know that sometimes I can be a really harmful person, but honestly...I don't mean it, I'm sorry if I hurt or bother you.
This year, maybe because it is my last year (I hope) at Teacher Training College , I've been trying to be in harmony with everyone around me, and I found out how difficult that can be.
I have to recognize that until last year, I didn't care much about being OK with everyone, but nowadays it has become a must in my life. I don't want to be misunderstood, I don't want to be in troubles I don't make, I don't like being in the twister's eye. However, no matter how hard I push myself to achieve that, I always end up participating in conflicts in which I'm not the only one to be blamed.
I've always thought that in every problem in which more than one person are involved, no matter their degrees of guilt, both parts share faults. One for doing something that might hurt the other, and the other for giving the space and opportunity to be hurt.
As I said, this year I'm different, and this is maybe because I've learnt that sometimes I've been so concentrated in victimizing myself, that I didn't take into account which were my own faults in every sad thing someone else provoked. Also, because I strongly believe that by feeling in that way, you may not be focused enough to know that your bad attitudes may diminish in many ways the degree of harm that others might have caused before.
I'm too critical with myself in every aspects of my life, and because of that, other people´s destructive critics might strengthen my own constructive ones, but occasionally when someone says something which is not well backed up by a coherent attitude, I just don't care.
All of us carry our own burdens, but this doesn't mean that we are entitled with the right to hurt others due to our depression, sadness, lack of self-esteem or any other negative state. We have to be very careful with the way, and with whom we release our nervous tension. In my case, for example, when I have some problems at home, I might be quieter at school, meaning that I'm not as talkative as usual, but I don't remember answering rudely to one of my classmates due to the "issues" I carry from home. In every place I am, I do the same. In other words, if I'm angry with you, I'll show my anger to you, not to others, if I'm not angry with you, I might look for you to lean my head in your shoulder and stay calm.
Again, I'm not perfect, I'm full of flaws, but I never blame others for the things I didn't do, or the frustration I may feel for whatever reason. I'm not that kind of person, that's why I don't understand people you are insanely angry with me but cannot say why. Most of the times, if not always, anger is provoked by something specific, so, you cannot say that you don't know why you are angry with someone, you may not remember the reason, but the plain fact is that there's always one.
People who really give themselves the chance to know the real me, realize that I'm an inconditional friend who is twenty-four-seven willing to help , but I accept that sometimes I'm not an easygoing person. I also admit that I frequently speak more than I should, or do things which unintendly produce certain types of damage in someone else's heart, nonetheless, I don't have problems when I have to agree with somebody's complaints and humbly say "I'm sorry". However, if I ask you forgiveness and your answer is sending me to hell, don't blame me for going to hell, and not coming back to keep on walking with you side by side.

What am I doing noooow?

Some people may make you experience all the possible feelings in the world towards their attitudes. You can easily go from pity and sadness to exasperation and anger. More or less this is what happens to me whenever I see one of my teachers.
He seems to be a good person, but you never know if he mumbles because it is his way of speaking or because he is too depressed to speak with an open mouth as when you are willing to say something and be understood.
The first class we had with him, I believe that the general sentiment was a sadish one. I remember being at the end of school, on an inhospitable area of the building, looking at him, then looking at my classmates' faces, and then looking at him again, wondering how is it possible that not knowing this man, we were listening to his own stories about depression and surmenage, oddly mixtured with old movies and war anecdotes!
One of the classes, we stayed silent and out of the blue, he covered his face with both hands and started shaking his head while saying: "What am I doing nooow?". We stayed puzzled. Even when I knew it wasn't the correct answer, I said: "Nodding?". Still with his covered face he replied: "Nooo, what am I dooooing?". No one responded. Then he explained: "What happens when you put some bananas, milk and sugar on the blender, cover the top and put the blender on?...You will have a milk..." "SHAKE!" we added. "Yes, that's it!" He enthusiastically agreed. Of course we were waiting for something else to complete the idea of why is it that he wanted us such answer, but no, that was his only aim...to "teach" us the expression "shake your head".
Anyway, we haven't had many classes so far, because he seems to have a very fragile health and a very busy life, and so far, in terms of contents, his subject is like a monitored break. Since he seems to be accustomed to talk only to one or two students sitting in front of him, the rest of the class can easily do whatever they want from other subjects. Last Friday we had our first exam, and the questions were suspiciously simple. I say "suspiciously" because I don't know him, and I cannot infer what is the type of answer that he might consider correct. I hope my test was successfully completed. By the way, since it was really cold, my hands were stiff, and as if this wasn't difficult enough, he started talking to me and telling me how much he suffers low temperatures, because he cannot get a heater. Of course, the talk was long, and I just nodded respectfully because I didn't want to be rude and say: "Hello! I'm trying to write here!"
I really don't know what are we going to do up to the end of this term, but what I can say for sure is that this man, by choice or by fate, is alone, and at times his loneliness seems to be his heaviest burden, sometimes more unbearable than a migraine. In fact, he walked almost a block chatting with a classmate and me, until he told us: "OK girls, I have to go the other side, so...see you next week, have a nice weekend, bye!"

Mother's Pride

I can happily say that I'm a proud mother. My son has passed his first English test with an extraordinary eight, and by his own merits, because I didn't help him in any way before the test.
Since he started school I've been struggling with his learning and behaviour difficulties, that's why I didn't want to teach him anything in English. I was really afraid of teaching him more contents than those he is supposed to handle, and of course by doing that, being the one to blame for his boredom and more misbehaviour during his English classes.
He didn't study alone either, but apparently he's been paying attention to his teacher because he got such a great mark in his test. I didn't have the chance to speak with "Miss Abigail" about my son, but everyone at school knows I'm studying to become an English teacher, I hope that's not an excuse for pushing him more than the rest.
My son has always been my light, my only sun, I love him in a way I couldn't have ever imagined before...Pure love, pride and hugs all the time. Whenever I'm down, he comes and smiles at me or gives me a kiss and that's all I need to be in the moon, smiling back full of happiness.
I think I'll remember for the rest of my life when he was 4, and I was suffering one of my painful migraines. We were alone at home because my husband was working. I went to bed, silently for not worrying him, and after some time he came desperately looking for me. "What's happening mummy? Why are you in bed?" he asked with his precious and sweet childish voice. "I'm having a headache, but don't worry, I'll be OK in some minutes" I replied. "Why don't you take a pill, then?" he said. "Because I cannot find them" I answered. "Don't worry, I'll look for them so you can feel better" he exclaimed.
He went away and after some minutes, he came back with a pill that I couldn't find and a glass of water. "Take it mummy, you are going to feel better, medicines are good". In my pain, I smiled a little because he hates medicines, and immediately after that, a tear of pride caressed my face. He stayed with me until I felt OK, with his tiny hand in my forehead, as if he wanted to take out my pain with love. After an hour or so, my suffering disappeared and we could watch TV and play with his hot-wheels as if my pain never existed.
I`m a proud mother in so many ways that I couldn't describe them here. And since I always thought that our parenthood can be modified (or not) according to our experience as sons or daughters, I keep on telling my son that he is my sunshine and that I'm really proud of him. He got an eight and it never crossed through my mind asking him "Why not a ten?" as my mother used to ask me. I told him that he himself should feel proud about his achievements, and this mark is his pure merit.
Every Thursday is my nightmare because I don't see him. I know it's just a day out of seven every week, but the problem is that it is ONE FULL AND ABSOLUTELY COMPLETE day in which I cannot hug him or receive a kiss from him. I know that lately I've been really sensitive, and everything puts me to cry, but it was a Thursday when I read the description of those six year-old-children being alone on an island in "The Lord of the Flies"...I cannot explain my sadness...I was going by bus to my teacher practises and I started crying as a stupid, because I was imagining my "baby" being alone on an island.
I love my son, and I always try to tell him how much I love him. Eight years ago, I couldn't imagine myself being a mother, nowadays, I cannot imagine myself not having my beautiful, bright, intelligent, extraordinary, careful, and sometimes naughty son.

Pure frustration

I'm 28 years old and after trying to understand my mother since I can remember, I feel an absolute frustration, similar to the ones who have failed many times the same exam might feel.

I still remember quite vividly the insane rage that she used to show us, whenever she found out that we had lied to her about something. For example, once I received a "flying" bronze ash-tray because she discovered that I was in a different friend's house than the one I'd told her, and I couldn't make her understand that I actually was where I said, but I had to go to the other place to look for something I needed. Moreover, my older brother's "flying" object for lying, was a chair, luckyly enough, he was a sports boy and he could avoid being hit. That's why I don't understand why is it that she is teaching my son how to lie to me, or to hide things which are really important for me, as a mother, to know.

The whole thing puts me on my nerves! Sometimes I don´t know if I want to kill her or just ignore her for the rest of my life. Of course I'm fully aware of the fact that this Hyde's feeling is only a momentary thing, which might vanish in a matter of hours or days, but on several occasions I reached to the point of wondering why do I forgive her?.

The obvious answer is equally frustrating for being both, simple and unchangeable: "She is my mother".

This answer, as I already said is frustrating, because I cannot accept that a mother can be as incoherent as she is with her life, and with her family.

The only response to my questioning her about her behaviour with my son is: "I'm a grandmother now, you can't compare my life now, with the one I had when I was a mother"

I fully understand that she wants to spoil my son as every grandparent might want to spoil theirs, but what I don't accept is that she is trying to destroy the values of honesty and responsibility that I'm trying to build up in my son's mind.

The worst part is that I've finally discovered that sadly enough, I cannot discuss ANYTHING with her, because even if I make a humongous effort to use a "motherese" talk when explaining her my complaints, she always has an answer for everything and she doesn't care if I agree or not with her.

My most recurrent pray is: "Please God, help me not to care about her opinions and her destructive critics towards me". You may be asking yourself why? It is because she never, or almost never has a positive comment about my motherhood or my life, and even when I feel good for fighting every day to be the best in whatever I do, all my efforts are diminished by her comments. Most of the times I tend to be at the edge of depression due to her negative words.

I really hope that at one point in my life, soon, I'll be able to draw a line between things I have to listen, and things I don't have to listen from her. At this moment, I'm still fighting with myself to stop feeling useless because of her.