“Youmust be mad” was the general comment of family, friends and colleagues. “Giving up a teaching post now, when there isn’t much chance of finding another one, ever!”“And what about all that lovely money you’re earning, and all those long holidays!”But I had already come to my lonely decision, after months of concealed suffering. The devil of unemployment should be enough to make those of us fortunate enough to have a job pulling up the drawbridge (吊桥) behind us, and yet here was I, prepared to join the noisy army on the opposite bank.But I knew I could no longer continue in the teaching profession. To wake up in the morning with a fear of the day ahead, to force a hasty breakfast down an unwilling throat and then set off for work with pounding heart and frozen face had become habitual, and I had turned to tranquilizers (镇定剂) to help me along.It had not always been as bad as this. Ten years before I had managed well enough, and the holidays used to come round just in time.But I, in common with most other teachers, am enormously self-critical, and I knew now that I was no longer “managing”. My classes were noisy, the children were not learning very much, and my’ attempts to cope with changing teaching methods produced very little effect. At one time my very presence in the doorway would be enough to ensure a partial silence. Now they give a vague “Hello, Miss”, and carry on. I had run out of enjoyment and enthusiasm. It was time to stop.But was it all my own failure? In fairness to myself, I don’t think it was. I had plenty of ideas, I loved my subject, and, by and large, I liked children.I had been idealistic. But the reality I faced was bored children, over-stimulated by video-watching the night before and tired out by a late bedtime. They were children who were given the wrong food at the wrong time, who came breakfast-less to school and then stuffed themselves with gum, chocolates and sweets bought on the way; who were “high” with hunger in the lesson before lunchtime and giggled (咯咯地笑) restlessly as the cooking smell from the school kitchen came drifting to all floors.I have been trying to create the basic conditions in which teaching becomes possible, but I have failed, and no longer have the stomach for the job. And that is why I’m giving up.
Which of the following about the writer is true?