Yesterday, I had the Foreign Service Officers Test for employment with the U.S. State Department. It was divided into 4 sections – Informational, Biographical, English, and an Essay section. I feel that I did really well on the first three sections. The essay, oh man, the essay. It was an almost complete disaster. I think that a monkey with its hair on fire could have written a better one than I did. It seemed when I finished a blathering unorganized mess. The topic was not that difficult and I knew quite a bit about it due to my studies. I just flopped. I am hoping that it turned out better than I remember it. Also, if it did, that the department may overlook it for some of my better qualities. I find out in four to five weeks. If I did fail it, I have to wait 11 months to take it again. Suck!

This Monday I substituted for the 6^th time in the same school as before. This time I was “teaching” another special education class with students considered more functional. I have some doubts on the more functioning part of that statement on account of one specific class. While they were not wheelchair-bound or dumb of speech like my previous class, there was not a single brain cell in the entire group. In this class, I was a mere observer and felt like a member of a National Geographic Channel documentary – “The intrepid anthropologist” skillfully navigates the natural environment until reaching the target specimens. He observes the specimens in their native state, conversing only about their imaginary sexual exploits interrupted by occasional bouts of machismo to establish a very temporary and transitory dominance. Their main behavior seemed to bouncing a ball back and forth among themselves trying to hit each other in the genitalia. To be honest, I forgot about them being human for a moment as their behavior seemed more in line with baboons or rutting deer. I wondered to myself if I had ever been like them in my youth. God forbid! But I suspect it was so.

In my last post, I stated that I was filled with patience and understanding for those kids, as they were among those who most needed it most. My only thought this day was, “I hope that the Lord never allows these kids to actually run anything important, because in their current state they will kill us all.” Maybe one day they may grow up to fulfill some important task, but I have trouble imagining that I could entrust a mop and a bucket to them after the hour I spent with them.

This week I substituted in a class at a local high school. It was my second time with this class. To be honest, these were the only two times I have substituted before. It was in a class with severely handicapped students – both physically and mentally. Two were in wheelchairs. These two could barely speak and another one did not at all. There were only four students in the entire class.

When I came back the second time, the other teachers (there being 3 there at all times, rotating in and out with others to prevent burnout) asked me if I felt any trepidation in returning. They were surprised, it seemed, when I answered that I did not. Other substitutes had been driven off – no doubt by the spitting, hitting, and throwing stuff. I don’t know if I could handle that class every school day, but occasionally it is alright. I feel a great deal of respect for the people that interact with these kids. Even the main teacher that has been AWOL for the past 2 weeks and doesn’t answer her phone.

These kids are not bad kids. They are just like little tykes trapped into adult bodies. They have taught me quite a bit over the last 2 times with them. Patience. I am not known for my patience, but it is required with them. Your anger has no meaning for them and thus little value. But they must be instructed in social norms as best as possible, so it interesting to work with them. Kindness. They have taught me that kindness is not just a verbal expression, but something that can transcend language. I need to do more of it, especially smile. I do not do it enough.

Why do these 2 lessons seem important to me? It may be because at the end of the day, they will not have one thousandths of the opportunities that I have had or will have. Sometimes I feel like a man with a target on his back, handing out free rocks for the public stoning. I have suffered through depression and had “woe is me” blabberings. Yet, nothing I go through will compare to them. Being with them has taught me that they deserve at least patience and kindness – even with the spitting, hitting and throwing stuff.

Hmm. It seems that it was I who was the student.