Why I Don't Want to Be a Shop Teacher

So I'm turning 22 tomorrow. That's not old, right? Course not. Sometimes (most of the times) I still feel like an old lady. My back always hurts, I'm perpetually tired, I'm getting cranky and I'm getting remarkably good at yelling. These things have nothing to do with my age and everything to do with my profession. Darn kids. They're loud and they scare me half to death when I have to let them use the machinery in the shop--the radial arm saw, the band saw, the drill press. Tech 2 is making go-carts. One team had their go cart frame balanced between two workbenches, about three or four feet above the ground. One student climbed on it, and even though it bowed and creaked, it did not break. I warned these two students that the more the wood cracks, the weaker it gets, and though it didn't break this time, it just might break later. Did they listen? ~sigh~ Not five minutes later, the other student clambered onto the go-cart, bounced up and down a little, and then promptly plummeted the 3 or 4 feet to the floor when the thing snapped in half.

...Agh! I'm going to start collecting gray hairs. What is it about kids that make it so they can ONLY learn things the hard way? That's the 2nd go-cart that's broken in half, by the way. I also had a kid nearly destroy a finger when he tried to drill a hole through a metal bike part on the drill press, and one kid today came very close to breaking the blade on the band saw when he tried to cut a curve on his CO2 car. Oi vey.

And after all that, I still love teaching and wouldn't have it any other way. Go figure.