Broken Air Conditioner = Sappy Realizations

After an extremely rude 2 AM wake-up call, I wasn’t feeling much like working today. I nearly overslept and had to hurry to get ready. Missed a spot or two shaving.

I was pretty happy that they decided to do a search this morning, meaning that my first period started around 8:25. I found a constant velocity worksheet on the internet that I made copies of and distributed. The job is getting easier because I am getting down to the kids that want to pass and get out of NHS.

My abbreviated first period went pretty well. We didn’t finish the worksheet, but I was able to keep most of the students on task.

Second period was much the same. Shawshank was the lone finisher, but many others were close to getting done, including Prudence, who popped into my class earlier in the day to say hello. When I asked her if I could help her, she said, “No. I was just talking.” She hasn’t told me that I “don’t teach good” in weeks so I guess we are doing pretty well.

My air conditioner didn’t work today, and second period was when I began hearing the complaints about the temperature. The Silver Tongue told me that I could make it up to them by giving them candy. I said that I probably wouldn’t, instead opting to save it all for myself. “That’s probably why you look like you do,” she said. I was a bit confused as to what she was referring to, assuming that it was probably my weight. She then added, “Your teeth are going to be all brown and yellow and be rotting out your mouth.”

Third period was small. I had a classroom that consisted of Dumbo, Dogface, Man Man, and the boy that got stabbed with the pencil. The English teacher was doing Benchmark testing, so I offered to take her class as well. There were maybe six students that I put on the computers, including Suit Man.

Those four tend to go back and forth quite a bit. Man Man was pushing the desk in front of him into Dumbo. Every time he did it, Dumbo remarked, “Jesus Christ!” I corrected him several times for the language. The kids were in shock that I could consider that to be foul language, and Suit Man even made the statement that I couldn’t give a check for saying that. He said that I couldn’t say that, but they could.

Because the class was so small, I was able to take control of it fairly well and get through a good portion of work. The only other interesting thing that happened was when one student made a remark about my breath and said that I should go to Iraq, because my breath could defeat the terrorists. I made sure to pop in a mint after class.

The afternoon was a bit livelier for me. In fourth period, the complaining about the temperature of the room really grew. I had several students complain that it was so hot that they couldn’t think. One girl grew extremely irritable and began raising her voice. She kept demanding that I let her out of the classroom. When I told her to leave the room (thus giving her what she wanted), she started yelling some more. When it finally dawned on her that her request was being granted, she got up and took a worksheet from me and stood outside the door. She looked at it for a second and began, “But I don’t know how to do none of…” I closed the door in her face before she was able to finish the sentence. I couldn’t refrain from laughing out loud.

Third Bun in the Oven is in that class and she complained about the heat as well. I extended to her the same offer, but she declined, instead opting to sleep for the hour.

Suit Man decided that since it has been determined that he will remain at NHS next year, he is done doing work for the year. He also wasn’t a big fan of the heat. I told him that he could go to FLC or he could do his work. He decided to move to the back of the classroom by a window that I had opened. He admitted that it felt better, so much so that he turned his desk 180 degrees so he was facing out the window.

I asked him several times to turn his desk around. He made it 90 degrees, and then went on the computer without permission. Check number one. He wrote it bobbing his head and then started drumming on his desk with the pencils.

Earlier, Suit Man took offense that I closed the door in that girl’s face. He said, “If a black person did that to a white person…” I stopped him and told him to put the card away (race card). It went right over his head. Later, he found fault with making them do work so close to the end of the school year. I lied, saying that I had often wondered why he was at that school (knowing he shot somebody), but then admitted that I knew he refused to make any genuine effort whatsoever, and he would continue failing in his endeavors. He didn’t seem to like that too much.

After a second check and more indifference and I got him out of the room. He sat there for a good minute while I just smiled at him, telling him I wasn’t going to change his mind. “Yes, you will,” he said. I didn’t. It was the first disciplinary referral I ever wrote on my dear friend, Suit Man.

For fifth period, I was instructed to move my class to the English teacher’s room because she wasn’t using it. It was a bit of a pain, and I didn’t think that the temperature was that big of a deal, but I followed directions and transported my class down the hall. The English teacher only gave me one order: Don’t let them touch anything.

Those kids decided to test me a bit. Onepac and another new student decided that they needed to find out a few things about me. Onepac started the interrogation.

Onepac: So, deep down, you really are a good person, right?

Me: No.

Onepac: I mean, you want to help people, right?

Me: No. That’s why I became a teacher. I hate helping people.

Onepac: Really though, you are a good person, right?

Me: No.

The topic of conversation quickly changed to whether or not I believed in God. The two of them must have asked me atleast 20 times whether or not I was a believer. I explained to them how I couldn’t talk about religion in school. When they asked again, I told them that I would risk being fired by sharing my beliefs. They assured me that they wouldn’t have me thrown in jail. When I still refused to share, Onepac said, “I really don’t think he believes in God. You really are evil, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I am.”

Today was the first time in over a week that I actually made an effort to teach. I can’t say that I was successful. I stood up in front of that classroom and lectured and lectured with very little evidence that it was getting through to anybody. I think TB was listening. I will say he was my silver lining.

I got so frustrated while I was explaining the bell ringer, that I circled the answer, said, “This is the answer to the bell ringer. This is the answer. Make sure you remember this number because in three seconds, I am going to give a check to anybody that doesn’t know it.”

True to my word, I walked around from student to student, asking what the answer was. Linda Blair, Skinny Kid, and another girl wrote checks for me. It gave TB a good chuckle, and I can’t say I was surprised by the results.

Onepac and his new counterpart decided to spit some rhymes. After I heard one with “motherfucker”, I decided to give them checks. Both later earned second checks. I gave Onepac a hard time about his pushups, and he seemed to have forgotten his pathetic display from Friday.

I had my homeroom in the same classroom. I can’t say I accomplished a lot. The Great Black Hope worked on her unnecessary extra credit packet while the rest of the class talked loudly.

The Instigator was by the teacher’s desk and it seemed like she was shuffling through papers. She knocked them to the ground. Remember what I had been told about letting students touch my co-worker’s stuff, I attempted to hand The Instigator a check. She wasn’t having any of it. I noticed some gum in her mouth and I asked her to spit it out. She denied having it and tried moving past me.

I made a point to block the much shorter girl from returning to her seat. I am no longer intimidated by any of my students, so I was directly in front of her, telling her what to do. She didn’t listen, instead sliding past me with a slight bump.

I placed the check on her desk. She looked me in the eye and told me several times to get out of her face. Knowing that her odds of getting out of NHS are nonexistent and she has no real reason in being there besides causing trouble, I kicked her out and reached for a disciplinary referral form.

I had very little to fill my homeroom time with, so I was content in sitting back and waiting for Psycho T and Lady Cheaterly to get too loud and then redirect them. The period ran about 10-15 minutes long, but there were no major incidents and the kids were on their way.

I watched the students line up at the door to go outside. The Silver Tongue gave me a strange look, so I decided to return the favor. Glaring at her, she looked confused. I didn't wait for a response and went to my classroom. A moment later, she came through the doorway and said, "Mr. C---------, you need to be nicer to me. That's why your air conditioner isn't working." I asked her if she had broken it, and she jokingly said that she did. When I told her that she would be suspended for the rest of the year, she changed her tune. I don't know if The Silver Tongue knows how to take me sometime. She probably should do the same thing that I do whenever I heard her talk: Take it with a pound of salt.
After the students were supposed to be outside, I was sitting on the computer in my classroom when I heard a familiar voice. It was Teletubby, walking towards the front door. I never saw his pleasantly plump body, which had spent the day in FLC after calling Sergeant Grinch a monkey on Friday. However, I heard his familiar whine, crying, “Mr. C-------, I want some candy. Bring me some Starbursts tomorrow.” I can safely say that I won’t.

A mere moment later, The Instigator stormed into my room with her referral in hand. She yelled at me, asking why I lied about her going through the papers on the desk. I told her to lower her voice. She came right up to, so close that we were touching, and stuck the referral right in my face (within 4 inches). I told her that she needed to leave my room. She shouted, “I don’t care. I’m already suspended for the rest of the year.” As the words rang from her mouth, she put her forearm against my shoulder. Getting agitated, I lifted up from the chair and was a bit more adamant about her leaving. She finally did. I think that was probably our last goodbye.

It wasn’t a really exciting day, but it picked up a bit in the afternoon. I was exhausted all day and just felt satisfied in surviving the day. I will definitely get more sleep tonight.

Drove The Southern Dandy back to the airport and then enjoyed a few oysters with my uncle at a nearby oyster bar. It had been a while since I had raw oysters. Spectacular.

Since being down here, I have been able to look at people that I know in a bit of a different light. The last couple of weekends taught me a few things about where my friends are in their lives’ and how they differ. There is a big difference between 31 and 23. As I mature, I hope that I am more tolerant of other cultures and lifestyles. I feel like I have adapted pretty well.

A big part about teaching and growing is the realization that life doesn't revolve around me. I feel like I have always been relatively good at holding others' well-beings in high regard, but right now, I so desperately want my students to experience success that I base to much of my own accomplishment on how they do. It becomes a dangerously thin line.

I have also learned that everybody will look at the same experience differently. I do believe I am taking a lot out of what I have been doing. I also think I perceive the world in a different manner than most people my age. A lot of things that I do that others may not understand or relate to are the very reasons why I get so much frustration, yet so much satisfaction out of my job. I wouldn’t change it if I could.

I like the fact that I cry at movies, that I can lose sleep over a girl, that I write out my feelings, that my eyes well up when I think about my dad, that I couldn’t stop smiling after sitting in on Candy Bar Man’s step six hearing, that I offer to spend my prep time tutoring students if they want the help, that I was scared to speak to Psycho T when I didn’t think she would be able to make it to her home school next year, and that, every day, getting through to one student makes everything worth it. I like the fact that I care enough so it can hurt me.

Last weekend when I was in Biloxi, I saw the Gulf for the first time. I don’t know what sparked it, but I had chills running up and down my spine. I thought of the millions of people that had seen that massive body of water. Human limitations told me that I couldn’t see land on the other side. I was no more important that anybody else that ever laid eyes on something so massive that nobody could fathom its immensity. Every time I have seen the mountains, the Pacific, and now, the Gulf, I have that feeling come over me: Both incredibly small, yet incredibly grateful to be able to be a part of something bigger and more important that I could ever be. In a small way, I feel a similar phenomenon being where I am. The Gulf is just water, just like I teach a bunch of lowly, troubled students. However, there is no telling what one wave, what one lesson can do. I never know who it will end up touching in this great web of life in which we are all intertwined.

Seven and a half more days with students for me to get further entangled…