Pham has no phriends.

"Pham has no phriends." is what a student wrote on my board after I announced to the class today that I was transferring schools. This was actually a lie. I just wanted them to shut up for a second. They did. "No you aren't. Stop lying," they laughed. Some of the more gullible, sweet girls asked, "are you really?" I couldn't help but affirm their fears. I actually saw some eyes water...but I couldn't help it. They knew I was lying, atleast 85% of their gut feeling was that I was lying. I was always lying. I tell them every day that I'm full of deception. But they took the bait. The seed had been implanted. Inception was complete. I decided to run with it, and I played "It's So Hard to Say Goodbye to Yesterday" on my computer. I got a lot of, "if you leave, we'll be stuck with the bad teachers!" "You're one of my favorites." "You can't leave Mr. Pham! I was just starting to get along with you!"
I lie a lot. If they ask me if I'm going out during the weekend, I tell them I'll be at the library studying with a tall glass of milk. I hate the library, I hate studying, and more importantly, I'm lactose intolerant.
I briefly mentioned I was in Zoom. One of them bit, and soon the rest followed. I told them they wouldn't be able to google me because I was using a different alias. I told them I left that life in the Ohio branch of Zoom because of the politics and the drugs. It was a different life, a darker one. I didn't want to talk about it.
Students are a pain. It reminds me of the douche I used to be in high school. I remember my Spanish teacher gave me a B on some oral activity. After class, I argued the subjectivity of the grading. I argued that any grade less then a 97 in her class would lower my GPA because it was a regulars class. Basically, I didn't prepare. I put it off because it wasn't AP, and she knew. And now I know. She wanted me to take pride in everything I produced no matter what the gain was. I expect my pupils to do the same.
Students are a pain. Every once in a while, you'll catch a glimmer of hope in the corner of your eye, as you are vehemently shouting to the heavens in the middle of class, "why is this my life!?" There'll be that one smirk from the student who gets you, who gets why you do what you do. And you will be filled with serentiy for a transient moment in the epic tragedy that is your life. Then someone will say, "there was homework?!" and all sense of clarity will be ripped from your empty, souless carcass.
This IS my life. My life is comprised of fragments of tranquility bound together by the sinew of rage, frustration, and loathing.
But, you know, atleast I wasn't stuck in a mine for 3 months.