Teacher in Training.

I wish to be this teacher:

But the truth is, that I'm not always that teacher.

 No, I am not Zooey Deschanel singing happy songs. I cannot even play the piano. I'm not even a music teacher. I'm an art teacher. I am not from a movie. Which is a good thing, because a kid dies in this movie. If I just ruined the climax of The Bridge to Terabithia for you, I won't apologize either. Because if you are over twelve and have not read that book than your childhood is already a lost cause. If you are under twelve, then I'm am in fact very sorry I ruined your childhood.
  The point is I am not perfect like the above Ms Deschanel. In fact, last week in art class nothing worked out to well. I've heard some rumors that children still liked it, but I did not. I was very upset with myself. If I were an art student, I would be disappointed with my teacher. In fact I sort of wanted to curl up in a ball and watch television for the rest of my teaching commitment.
  What could have went to wrong you ask? Did a child die like in the above movie? No, that did not happen. The above movie is slightly melodramatic.
   Nothing worked out for me last week in class. I was tongue tied when describing the Byzantine Empire's effect on art. I kept describing it as shiny. I think 'shiny' was all my students really took away. Then again it is very shiny.

But really... just shiny. That was it. I blanked out. 4th and 5th graders are intimidating. Don't you forget that. I tried to tell everyone that the Byzantine Empire was an empire of 'Gold, and God.' I even had everyone write that in their commonplace books. I told them all it was a sea port town which made tons of gold from trading. I told them it was the Eastern half of the Roman Empire. I told them it was a united empire under a singular, state religion of Christianity. Gold and God. But all everyone took away was shiny. Because that was all I kept saying. And all they kept saying. 

  Then we moved on to the craft. Which was all glue orientated.

Don't be fooled by its exterior. It is a terrorist.

 I was so happy with the glue before hand, because there was troughs of it in the art supplies closet. However, no one cared to point out to me that it was Nazi glue that refused to dry. So everyone got sent home with wet glue and shiny, gold paint in dixie cups. Not my finest moment. 

  I'm not sure anyone learned anything last class. Except maybe me. I learned that I am not infallible and that some glue is evil. Perhaps that's a big enough lesson to be proud of learning...