Emily Kassera
The thoughts my 8th graders choose to vocalize fascinate me. Sometimes, they’re sweet: “You’re like the best listener.” Sometimes they’re backhanded: “If you weren’t old and if you wore cooler shoes, I would totally want to be your friend.” (I’m 23 for reference…)
But most of the time, they’re contrary: “I don’t want to be here.”
That one’s my favorite. Most students mutter it subconsciously from time to time, but a few really enjoy the way it feels on their tongues. Like an Olympic javelin toss, I can see them preparing to launch those words. I’ll be up there, jiving with the lesson, other kids are loving it, I’ll start circling the classroom for one-on-one help, and these folks… they’ll look me dead in the eye when I get to them and let it fall from their lips like it’s weightless: I don’t want to be here.
It used to crush me, but not any more. How could I let it? They’re only saying what we’re all thinking. Do I sometimes wish I could stand up in the middle of a stressful meeting and say, “I don’t want to be here”? Yes. Do I think it on particularly tough days when I have things outside of school causing me worry? Absolutely. The thing is, “I don’t want to be here” is just the blunt way of saying all of the things adults have invented niceties to damper. How could I fault a 14-year-old for that?
Right now, however, the global pandemic has quite literally forced us to “not be here.” Schools are officially closed for the remainder of the year. While I’m devastated to lose the in-person aspect of my student teaching semester, I couldn’t help but let my mind drift to the “I don’t want to be here” kids. Were they shocked? Were they elated? Were they toasting sparkling white grape juice and making celebratory TikToks?
I didn’t know the answer, but a week after schools closed I sent all of my students a check in message to ask how they were and assure them I was available and eager to stay connected through our district’s chosen platform, Microsoft Teams. I got several responses later that day with everything from Netflix recommendations, to photos of pets, to recipes for their mom’s banana bread.
That was almost one month ago, now–one month since I sent that first check in–but just two nights ago, my phone buzzed on my dresser. It was 10pm. I grumbled and rose reluctantly from bed to check it. There was a reply… to my one-month old message, from the poster child of “I don’t want to be here”: goodnight ms kassera. i miss ur class.
A native of Chippewa Falls, WI, Emily Kassera is an English and theatre education student at the University of Wisconsin Eau Claire. After wrapping up her student teaching semester this spring, Emily hopes to find a job in the area where she can read, and write, and do theatre with those hip Chippewa Valley teens.