Sister Merkley

Today marked my second day of student teaching, and so far I am unscathed. Well, a few blisters from silly shoes, but thank heavens for Zappos.com and 24-hour shipping. New shoes tomorrow. My supporting teacher is really nice and very laid back, which is good for me - I need to learn how to not be a control freak and relax in a classroom. My brother Ben (the missionary) wrote that he visualizes me walking around with a yard stick and detention slips in hand. However, he also called me patient, so he clearly doesn't know who he's talking about. I start teaching US History and Psychology next week, so wish me luck. The kids mostly ignore me at this point. I've found that the difference between middle schoolers and high schoolers is that middle schoolers can't stand not knowing who you are, and high schoolers could care less (or at least have to pretend they don't). They'll have to acknowledge me next week, or I'll get 'em with that big yard stick... My best story so far (other than waiting outside in sub-zero temperatures for my tardy teacher) involves my name tag. USU issues a magnetic badge that we are required to wear all semester; it's rectangular, dark navy, and has my name in white lettering. Guess what that looks like in Utah. I was walking down the hall today and a random boy who I don't know peered hard at my name badge. As I walked by him, he broke the typical stoic silence and said "hey" with a wave. I was totally baffled. I figured it out in class when one of the students asked me if I was a missionary. Like sister missionaries wear pants and travel to classrooms solo. Maybe I should continue this misperception...missionaries are a lot more popular than student teachers. And in Utah, people feed them and give them rides. This could save me a lot of gas money. More stories later, I can guarantee that.