Give me an taffy, I've got a million of 'em

So I am finally living my dream. I am William Keating, Mrs. Ferris, Dr. Kress, and my immensely talented parents. I am a teacher. I stand on top of desks, grade endless papers, and clean up my classroom from the Senior Prank this morning. I fight paper jams, broken pencil tips, and confusing literature. And most of the time, I hate it.
I hate living my dream. It was not suppose to be like this. My students are suppose to stop talking when I ask them. They are suppose to be excited about learning the complex societal impact of The Crucible. They are suppose to respect me, since I am the TEACHER. I have the name and everything. But they don't and I hate it.
Honestly though, I do love this. This experience so far has been the hardest and most frustrating thing that I have ever done and I am only a week and a day in. But I am going to keep trying, even for one or two students. One of the boys in third block came to me after class and thanked me for teaching today. He didn't understand the content and I was able to answer his questions. One of the girls came to me and told me she would pray for my sister that was involved in the Wiccan religion.
Those are the students that I need to remember at the end of the day. Not the ones that were disrespectful and adolescent (though I will deal with them harshly tomorrow). No. I remember the ones that smiled at me as they left the classroom. I taught them something. I did that. I am their teacher.