Caviberry,

A new semester is upon me and as students across America begin the school year I am entering into my second year of not being one of them. This makes me feel old. It is, however, a frequent topic of conversation amongst myself and me fellow teachers that our lives here are very similar to that which we lived in our college days. Aside from the distinct lack of responsibility and excess of free time there is the learning.

I began my third semester as a teacher last Monday. The beginnings of a new semester take me back in time to when I was a grade schooler and the first day of class was an experience of excitement and fear. Excitement for the prospect of new beginnings. Fear for the faces. The faces of unfamiliar students, the faces of familiar students and the faces of students that despise you. I life not everyone you meet will enjoy your company and in these cases the easiest solution is to avoid contact and interaction. When you meet 12o new students over the course of two days some of which love you, some of which don't care, and others who already despise you there is the problem that the most obvious solution is not an option. Like it or not I will be spending the next three months with these kids.

On Friday I walked into my PI Writing class which is the highest level of students that we teach. In the first row sat one of the mildest members of my PI Speaking class from last semester. He turned to his neighbor with a moan and told him in Korean "I don't like this teacher. His class was seriously boring."

This shows a few things about this kid and the class he was a member of last semester. First, he spent three months in my class and didn't figure out that I speak Korean. This is because he spent most of the previous semester sitting at the back of the class gambling, arguing, listening to music and generally going out of his way to be the worst student he could possibly be. Second, that he was't going to give me the second chance I will have no choice but to give him. And third, he was spreading the hate speak that is generally disruptive to my goal of actually having my students like me, which I somehow manage to pull off more often than not.

Thankfully I am learning. There are tricks, keys to these students minds, that open up a world of enjoyable classes. As I pulled the trick after trick from my relatively small at this early stage of my career bag of tricks I saw that it was working. I also saw that his friend and neighbor was my best ally. Caviberry is his name.

"Caviberry?" I asked

"Yes teacher"

"How did you get that name?"

"I made it. I looked in my book and I saw 'cavi' and I saw 'berry' so I named myself 'Caviberry'."

Caviberry sat attentively as I breathlessly detailed essay writing and its wonders. This must have inspired my nemesis because when I asked "What is the most important part of an essay?" I got an answer from a very unlikely source.

"Thesis" my nemesis replied.

I looked at him shocked.

Some battles you can win. Especially if you have a kid named "Caviberry" on your side.