"The [teaching] job was the hardest I've had, by far," Morman wrote, "but the potential for job satisfaction was far greater than I'd ever felt before. I told the kids that I quit teaching because I needed to make more money. This isn't true. ... I quit because of the stress I felt. The main cause of the stress was the kids themselves. I could never rise above the feeling of humiliation that I felt each day when I tried to address 20 or 25 kids and might find none of them paying attention to me. I seethed when I asked a student to stop talking and heard the response, 'Get out of my face.' So often I stood in the classroom wishing I could be anywhere else.
"I try to get a class to come to order while one kid is jumping on a second, a third calls out my name asking me for a pencil, a fourth demands that I let her go to the bathroom and a fifth needs to go see Miss Smith, while a sixth needs a pass to the nurse's office and a seventh starts making silly, repetitive noises. ... One day a cheap calculator hit the wall just above my head. Another day, it was a Jell-O cup, whose contents dripped down the wall and stained the picture of Harriet Tubman I had hanging on a bulletin board. ...
