Waiting for the students to start lining up at my door at the beginning of the day, I overheard laughter coming from the English and science teachers down the hall. “You’re buddy’s here,” they exclaimed. I saw a big, dopey kid loafing down the hall: Ho Man. The English teacher kept her word, and it was decided that he would be spending the entire day in my class. I couldn’t stop laughing, but inside, I was wondering how long it would be before I was regretting his presence.
The science teacher told me I could give her a couple of students from my homeroom class. I decided to get Dinosaur out of there. She hadn’t been in class in quite a while, and she always tries to pick a fight with me. A few minutes later, Jam Master Jay hobbled in on crutches. Apparently, he hurt his ankle during PE yesterday. I waited until he was about ready to sit down to tell him that he was going to be in a different class for first period. Later in the day, one of the custodians told me that he got what he deserved with the crutches after the way he talked to me. It made me think of an old Irish proverb:
May those who love us, love us
And may those who don’t love us, may God turn their hearts
And if He can’t turn their hearts, may He turn their ankles
So we will know them by their limping
Ho Man was silent for most of the beginning of first period. I gave the students plenty of time with the bell ringer and hadn’t planned a whole lot of work for them. This past week, I haven’t introduced much of anything besides allowing them time to finish up their worksheet, make-up work, and extra credit. After the bell ringer was finished, I spent a bit of time working with Tony Montana. Ho Man began his complaining.
It would have been a good time for him to do his worksheet (from Monday, I believe) which he missed, of course. That tends to happen when a person comes to school once a week.
He admitted that math’s his favorite class, but not so early in the morning. He wanted to go back to his first period class (English), but I told him that I had received instructions to have him in my class all day. He said, “Man, sometimes you act like a little girl, brah.” He also told me to get out of his face several times, even when I was sitting behind my desk.
Luckily, Ho Man improved his attitude by the end of first period. I gave the students computer time, and even though he was watching music videos, I didn’t feel like putting up a fight. I just listened to make sure I didn’t hear any curse words. Boyz II Men is usually pretty safe. At the end of class, he even seemed excited about spending the rest of his day in math class because it would all him to “see all the hoes”.
Second period went pretty well. For a while, I thought that Prudence and Rosie were going to go at it once again. I heard Rosie calling to Prudence, “Well, atleast I know who my momma is!” I don’t know the story, so I didn’t comment, other than telling the two of them to cut it out.
I helped Prudence with her career report a little bit. It is very clear to me that she couldn’t write a legitimate paper to save her life. I asked the students to write one page on a career that uses mathematics. I said no “copy and pasting”, and then I gave them a list of a bunch of things that they could write about. She is taking notes on computer printer paper and then tells me she will type it later. I saw her begin to type a little bit today. First of all, she copies directly from her notes, which were directly copied from the computer. She has no organizational skills at all, and she doesn’t know how to write in complete sentences. She doesn’t even know that she is supposed to capitalize the first word of a sentence. I can’t wait to read her report. For some reason, I think she might fall well short of her goal of becoming a nurse.
I received a break from my second period class when I was called down to the office to pick up the supplies that I ordered for next year, when I will be someplace else (who knows where). Shawshank and one other boy were to help me transport the materials back to my room. Ho Man was already in the hallway. The sergeant across the hall, who was sitting in my room because he didn’t have anybody in Personal Development Training (PDT – initiation for new students), saw Ho Man as he was outside the door, waving at people in the room. When he re-entered the room, he looked at me and waved. The sergeant volunteered him for a bit of work.
When we were in the office, I saw my rather large haul of fun, exciting math aids. Ho Man was busy bragging about how strong he is. After flexing, he asked, “You wanna touch it, don’t ya?” A minute later, I flexed my muscle back, and he said, “You might be pretty strong, because I know you never get any.”
When we returned and he was on the computer, I made a remark about how I was a better singer than Ho Man. I also told him that I was a better football player. He looked at me with a dopey smile and lazy eye and said, “I know something I better than you at.” I knew the answer, but asked anyways. He clenched his fists, thrust his elbows towards his abdomen and rocked his hips back and forth in his desk. “Yeahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh,” he exclaimed.
Ho Man: Two periods down. Copied the bell ringer. Moved a few boxes. Talked about cat.
I let my third period students get on the computers for the first time all semester. I am pretty sure that some of them haven’t done their work yet, but I decided I didn’t care. I introduced Ho Man to the class as my teacher’s assistant. He had no clue what that was. He told his new classmates that math was important because you needed to know the angles to stick “it” in the hole. I knew exactly what he meant and didn’t care for him to elaborate. He didn’t. Instead, he fell asleep and didn’t wake up until the period was over. Waking up to leave, he asked me if he was supposed to stay with me for lunch. I needed a break from him, so I told him to go to the cafeteria. Three hours of “yeahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh man” is enough for one sitting.
Fourth period was when the whining really started. Walking down the hall, I could hear his high-pitched cries. I can imagine it must have been getting pretty old for him, but my side wasn’t much better. However, fourth period was the one I was looking forward to most of all. It would signal the squaring off of two of my most memorable students: Ho Man and Teletubby.
For much of the beginning of class, I thought Ho Man was going to walk out. He kept complaining about how I was “playin’ him.” He demanded to know why he was sitting in the same class the entire day. I offered up several different excuses, such as he was really close to getting a good grade in my class and could use the extra time, he was supposed to help other students, and we made a trade. He didn’t buy any of them. I told him that he could do some investigating at the end of class. He seemed to calm down a bit.
Meanwhile, Teletubby had some issues of his own. I looked on in horror as I saw Third Bun in Oven scratching at his large left cheek. I had no clue what was going on. Walking over to the corner where those two sit, I noticed he had a large white spot on his cheek: SuperGlue. I never found out how it got on his face and I’m not sure I’d want to know. I just know that watching a girl scratching at that meaty cheek was about all I can take. “Why is you always laughin’ at me?” he asked. I’m not sure if it’s possible not to.
By the time fifth period rolled around, I could tell that Ho Man had had enough. The entire class got on my case, telling me I should be ashamed for keeping him from his other classes. “Why you always think everything is funny, brah?” he asked me.
I decided it was time to throw Ho Man a bone. I announced to the class that if he was able to explain the answer to the bell ringer (which I had gone over for him four times throughout the day), I would give everybody in the class candy. Not only could he not explain the answer, Ho Man didn’t even know the answer. He claimed that I never explained it.
A minute later, when I started explaining the problem, he predicted what I was going to do. “Yeah, he has done this all day,” Ho Man said.
Of course, Ho Man may have been preoccupied with the discussion that he was having with The Entertainer and Skinny Kid. They were alleging that The Entertainer had gotten caught having a foursome in the bathroom of her old school. She claimed that they were different instances and only hooked with one guy at a time. In the school bathroom. Finally, I had enough of that and passed out some checks (which I later ripped up).
Big Kid in Camo was back today. Once again, he was testing my patience. He announced in front of the class that I was afraid his dad was going to beat me up, then told me he would be there in the afternoon. I told him that I would be in my room. Never showed. Won’t tomorrow, either. I heard that Big Kid in Camo was suspended again by the end of the day.
A few minutes later, Ho Man and Big Kid were taken out of my room to do some testing. I never saw them again for the rest of the day. I was a little disheartened to learn via the English teacher that Ho Man thought it was all my fault and no longer liked me. However, she also told me that by the time he was finished testing, he had forgotten all about his anger, and most likely, he forgot he was ever in my class at all today.
Skinny Kid tried going on the computer while I was still lecturing, so I punished him by not allowing him to go on the computers with the rest of his classmates. Instead, he shot the bull with me. I learned that he is most excited to go back to his old school because he wants to play baseball. He plays catcher and outfield and wears #2 in honor of Derek Jeter. It is kind of neat to be able to talk to them as just normal kids, and I really am not that far removed from being in that position. I certainly haven’t forgotten that excitement yet.
Homeroom was pointless again. I sat next to the Big White Kid as he was on GoogleEarth. He showed me where he went to high school and played football, and I did the same. Out of all the kids that I teach, he is one of the few that approaches normal. I was glad that he harbored no ill will from yesterday when I made him run.
Work gets less and less like “work” every day. I can’t imagine randomly changing a student’s schedule for one day and forcing him to sit in one classroom all day at a normal school. It was pretty entertaining to see his reactions, but it won’t kill me if I don’t have him for five hours tomorrow. I can only hear about hoes and soul music for so long.
I don’t know will show up tomorrow and what crazy idea the other teachers will come up with. Being the “new guy”, I’ll go with the flow and get a kick out of whatever I come across. Ho Man came to school today to make sure his step sister was alright, and she ended up getting sent home because her shadow wasn’t with her. Ho Man stayed anyways. I have a feeling that if he shows up again tomorrow, the other teachers will find no problem with him taking five hours of math. If he is absent, TB has already volunteered to spend his day with me. It might be easier to swallow, but I’ve been told never to trust a boy with a tongue ring: You never know what you get stuck with.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Hitting the high notes and not hitting your classmates
I was agitated nice and early today. Jam Master Jay was loud in line outside of my door. He addressed me by my last name (they still have to call me “mister” even if I’m weirded out by it) and then a moment later, he was on the ground laughing. I walked back by him and sternly pointed my finger at the back door. “Just get out of here,” I said. The Social Studies teacher admitted that he had been joking with them, and Jay was fooling around with The Big White Kid. I said that I didn’t care and it was a daily occurrence with him. In the interest of fairness, I made The Big White Kid run outside as well. He had never so much as written a check for me before.
The Boy with the Tattooed Hands was back to dropping f-bombs left and right today, although he did apologize and even said, “Here, I’ll take the check.” I didn’t give him one then, but I almost did later when I thought he swore again. Instead, he said something about Wendy’s. I still have no clue what the hell these kids are talking about half the time.
I gave students a chance to finish their worksheets and work on extra credit. I also said that they could go on the computers when all their mandatory work was done. Most were on the computers, but I was pleased that more students doing work today than yesterday. Check Slapper was back, and with her mother shadowing, she decided to work today. I also spent a decent portion of time helping Tony Montana, The Great Black Hope, and a few others.
The Rapist, who rarely does his work, told me that he needed to go throw up. I was dumb enough to give him my hall pass, which is on a lanyard. When he came back, he told me to tell the custodians that he vomited all over the floor. My pass was a bit wet. He said that the pass had fallen in with it, but he made sure to wash it off. Needless to say, I decided not to put that thing on my neck again.
The Big White Kid was the first of my runners to return. He was pretty sweaty, but he didn’t make any comments to me and accepted his punishment. Jam Master Jay returned a minute later and was also quiet, but I could tell he was still fuming. I handed him his work and offered to help him. He replied, “I don’t want your help. I’ll just ask somebody else.” It isn’t too often I see that kid without a smile on his face, but I was pleased to have shut him up, if only for a class period.
Second period: I let the students work on the bell ringer for a good portion of time. Lately, I have been using more constructed response questions as opposed to the multiple choice questions I used for the first couple of months. This makes the questions last a lot longer, because honestly, very few students have a clue. I saw the results for the End of Course tests, and I only had two students who passed. I guess I shouldn’t get my hopes up with the LEAP results.
Anyways, I rewarded Rosie for being the first student to get the correct answer to the bell ringer question. While I was explaining how to do the question, Rosie and The Silver Tongue started getting into it with Prudence. They were making fun of Prudence’s lack of hair (which I didn’t follow). She turned around and started with some weak comeback, when she caught me shaking my head out of the corner of my eye. She stopped for a second, but after another insult, she just turned and said, “You need to zip…your lips.” The class erupted in laughter and I couldn’t help myself either. One girl got out of her desk and basically fell into the class door. I gave her a check for that, but she didn’t care.
The Silver Tongue got on me a couple of times throughout class. After entering the class, I noticed that both Rosie and Prudence were chewing gum. I said that anybody chewing gum had to spit it out immediately, and then The Silver Tongue started shouting, “Why are you looking at me!? I don’t got no gum!” I corrected her and, a few minutes later, she once again asked me why I was looking at her like that. The Silver Tongue is a fitting nickname.
My students often ask me random questions. Today, one girl started with “Do you drink milk?” That question quickly sparked “Do you drink beer?” I played dumb, asking them what beer was. “You know, like alcohol?” I told them that we don’t have alcohol in Wisconsin. Prudence stopped for a minute, before saying, “I never heard of no full grown adult that didn’t know of alcohol before.”
It is fun to answer these kids’ questions. Today, I told one kid that my first name is Elvis. A few days ago, Onepac prefaced a statement by saying, “I know you were a kid once…” Even though I think I still am a kid, I replied, “No. I was never a kid. When I was born, I was 97 years old, then I aged backwards. Haven’t you ever seen Benjamin Button before?” Another kid asked me, “So that means in a couple of years I could kick your ass then?”
I gave students the choice of going on appropriate, math-related websites or working on extra credit. Only Prudence and Rosie did the extra credit. Rosie decided to write about math teachers and Prudence decided that she will write about becoming a nurse, which is what she hopes to do someday. I think the brief, one page extra credit papers may be a bit harder for these kids than I imagined. I think reading the reports will be pretty entertaining.
I didn’t get the pleasure of kicking anybody out of my third period class today. My kids were actually quite good today. Terry Schiavo was re-energized, actually doing his work on the board. Of course, he had no clue what he was doing, but it was still inspirational watching him attempt the same problem fifteen different times with a different result every time.
The most excitement during third period came from some loud noise we heard out in the hallway. I wouldn’t find out until later what that was.
During lunch, my uncle split a roast beef sandwich with me. It was the most delicious roast beef I have ever eaten in my entire life. Absolutely incredible.
I am finding it harder and harder to make it through fourth period without smiling. Teletubby was donning a fancy green shirt and a black vest that couldn’t cover his massive midsection. As I watched him in line, whispering to a girl behind him, I couldn’t help but grin. “Why is you smilin’ at me?” he asked. I just shook me head, unable to wipe that look off of my face.
After yesterday’s performance, I was worrying about a letdown. Once again, he didn’t disappoint. “The Giant Leprechaun” (my nickname for him today) was once again in a singing mood with his faux-girlfriend (I’ll call her Addie, because she really needs Adderol). I attempted to teach for a good five minutes and couldn’t get those two to stop with their harmonizing. Finally, I shouted Teletubby’s last name. He replied, “Mr. C-------. I’m fittin’ to do my work. I just needed to hit that high note first.” I told him that he had missed it.
Once again, Teletubby left me in stitches. I don’t know if I have ever met somebody with more comical mannerisms than him. I was in the middle of explaining a problem when he got out of his seat, walked to the front of the room, and bent over and started touching the carpet. When I asked him what on earth he was doing, he said, “I saw some dirt on the carpet, so I thought I’d clean it up.”
There was a new student in class today. He sat in the corner and was relatively quiet, but he was laughing by the end at Teletubby. Addie asked the new kid if he was laughing because of her dear friend. “Yeah. Is he…?” He didn’t need to finish the question. I don’t think he needed to hear the answer. Ohhhh yessssss…
Fifth period: The Entertainer, TB, Skinny Kid, Onepac’s Sister, one of the new kids, Linda Blair, The Mouth and another girl. No Onepac…
I learned what had happened during third period when I heard the shouting from the hallway. There was a “fight”.
Skinny Kid is dating Onepac’s sister. Apparently, he told her during science class that he didn’t want to see her anymore. Onepac got in his face and actually jumped on his back and hit him. Incredibly, Skinny Kid didn’t fight back. He said that he really wanted to, but he knew that if he did, he wouldn’t be able to get out of NHS. I was really proud when I heard that.
The class went alright. I spent my time teaching The Mouth and the new kid how to do their worksheet while the rest of the class sat on computers. The Entertainer got a check after she smacked Skinny Kid in the back of the head. Apparently, he called her a bitch.
She asked to leave the room for a minute, and the security lady brought her back a minute later, telling me that if she was kicked out again, she would come back and embarrass her in front of the class. If what Ho Man (yeahhhhh man) said was true about her entertaining of her male counterparts at school, I can’t imagine embarrassing her would be too difficult.
A few minutes later, she started the shoving again, although this time, I heard the word “bitch” coming from Skinny Kid’s lips. Checks for both. Honestly, I threw out all of my checks at the end of the day. We’re nearing the end of the year and no other teachers are even writing them. I would stop as well, but I don’t want to endanger my status as the least popular teacher at NHS.
I made sure to get in a couple of good jabs with the kids in fifth period as well. One of the newer boys was complaining about a check that I gave him. I walked to the other end of the room, grabbed some tissue, and handed it to him. “What’s this?” he asked. I responded, “Something to wipe your tears with,” as I walked away. Later, Skinny Kid approached me with a question. As he went to sit down, I patted him on the back. “Don’t touch me, brah,” he said. A minute later, he returned the favor, so I said, “Don’t touch me, brah.” He continued to flail his arms around me, so I lunged for him. Jumped back about two feet. He laughed. “Man…” I can’t say that I saw myself ever doing that to any student there three months ago.
I am happy to report that Skinny Kid and Onepac’s sister appear to have reconciled their differences and are madly in love. I “cockblocked” him again though, making her sit at the other end of the room. At the end of the class period, he approached me and told him that he thought he deserved candy as a reward for not fighting back. I told him that the real reward would be getting to go back to his old school, not a cheap piece of candy. “Man, you trippin’,” he exclaimed as he left the room.
I will miss Onepac. He always looked like he wanted to hit me. Not sure if I could've done what Skinny Kid did. I also am disappointed I missed out on the chance to have a rap battle with him.
Homeroom was similar to yesterday's session. I helped Psycho T and Slim work on their packets while the rest of the kids were on the computers. I kicked Hand Cramps off of the computer when she was on a website that she “didn’t know what it was”. Magically, she had typed “how to get on myspace at school” into a Google search engine. For the rest of homeroom, she and Jam Master Jay complained about how mean I was and how little I cared about the kids. I can safely say that if Jay wasn’t so close to getting out of here and going back to his old school, I would have written him up five times in the past two weeks. Today, I told him not to come back to my class for the rest of the year. He went to FLC, but the big guy in charge said that if I couldn’t handle him, he couldn’t either. I have to figure out what I’m going to do with him.
After school, I talked to Dee’s counselor. I told her that she has been doing better, but she still is easily influenced by her classmates. For example, today many students went on the computers. Dee could have worked on her packet, her extra credit report, or one of the worksheets, but she also went on the computer. The problem with these kids is even the best ones are not leaders.
The counselor made a remark about how I was talking to Dee like a young adult and told her that she should be able to look me in the eye. Even after instructed to do so, she couldn’t. So little confidence.
I once again offered to help her a bit with my planning time, and she accepted my offer. We made it through three worksheets in her packet. I think she is closing in on the number of points she needs to get that D. If not, I might make a small mistake in figuring out her grade.
I’ve never been very good at math…
The Boy with the Tattooed Hands was back to dropping f-bombs left and right today, although he did apologize and even said, “Here, I’ll take the check.” I didn’t give him one then, but I almost did later when I thought he swore again. Instead, he said something about Wendy’s. I still have no clue what the hell these kids are talking about half the time.
I gave students a chance to finish their worksheets and work on extra credit. I also said that they could go on the computers when all their mandatory work was done. Most were on the computers, but I was pleased that more students doing work today than yesterday. Check Slapper was back, and with her mother shadowing, she decided to work today. I also spent a decent portion of time helping Tony Montana, The Great Black Hope, and a few others.
The Rapist, who rarely does his work, told me that he needed to go throw up. I was dumb enough to give him my hall pass, which is on a lanyard. When he came back, he told me to tell the custodians that he vomited all over the floor. My pass was a bit wet. He said that the pass had fallen in with it, but he made sure to wash it off. Needless to say, I decided not to put that thing on my neck again.
The Big White Kid was the first of my runners to return. He was pretty sweaty, but he didn’t make any comments to me and accepted his punishment. Jam Master Jay returned a minute later and was also quiet, but I could tell he was still fuming. I handed him his work and offered to help him. He replied, “I don’t want your help. I’ll just ask somebody else.” It isn’t too often I see that kid without a smile on his face, but I was pleased to have shut him up, if only for a class period.
Second period: I let the students work on the bell ringer for a good portion of time. Lately, I have been using more constructed response questions as opposed to the multiple choice questions I used for the first couple of months. This makes the questions last a lot longer, because honestly, very few students have a clue. I saw the results for the End of Course tests, and I only had two students who passed. I guess I shouldn’t get my hopes up with the LEAP results.
Anyways, I rewarded Rosie for being the first student to get the correct answer to the bell ringer question. While I was explaining how to do the question, Rosie and The Silver Tongue started getting into it with Prudence. They were making fun of Prudence’s lack of hair (which I didn’t follow). She turned around and started with some weak comeback, when she caught me shaking my head out of the corner of my eye. She stopped for a second, but after another insult, she just turned and said, “You need to zip…your lips.” The class erupted in laughter and I couldn’t help myself either. One girl got out of her desk and basically fell into the class door. I gave her a check for that, but she didn’t care.
The Silver Tongue got on me a couple of times throughout class. After entering the class, I noticed that both Rosie and Prudence were chewing gum. I said that anybody chewing gum had to spit it out immediately, and then The Silver Tongue started shouting, “Why are you looking at me!? I don’t got no gum!” I corrected her and, a few minutes later, she once again asked me why I was looking at her like that. The Silver Tongue is a fitting nickname.
My students often ask me random questions. Today, one girl started with “Do you drink milk?” That question quickly sparked “Do you drink beer?” I played dumb, asking them what beer was. “You know, like alcohol?” I told them that we don’t have alcohol in Wisconsin. Prudence stopped for a minute, before saying, “I never heard of no full grown adult that didn’t know of alcohol before.”
It is fun to answer these kids’ questions. Today, I told one kid that my first name is Elvis. A few days ago, Onepac prefaced a statement by saying, “I know you were a kid once…” Even though I think I still am a kid, I replied, “No. I was never a kid. When I was born, I was 97 years old, then I aged backwards. Haven’t you ever seen Benjamin Button before?” Another kid asked me, “So that means in a couple of years I could kick your ass then?”
I gave students the choice of going on appropriate, math-related websites or working on extra credit. Only Prudence and Rosie did the extra credit. Rosie decided to write about math teachers and Prudence decided that she will write about becoming a nurse, which is what she hopes to do someday. I think the brief, one page extra credit papers may be a bit harder for these kids than I imagined. I think reading the reports will be pretty entertaining.
I didn’t get the pleasure of kicking anybody out of my third period class today. My kids were actually quite good today. Terry Schiavo was re-energized, actually doing his work on the board. Of course, he had no clue what he was doing, but it was still inspirational watching him attempt the same problem fifteen different times with a different result every time.
The most excitement during third period came from some loud noise we heard out in the hallway. I wouldn’t find out until later what that was.
During lunch, my uncle split a roast beef sandwich with me. It was the most delicious roast beef I have ever eaten in my entire life. Absolutely incredible.
I am finding it harder and harder to make it through fourth period without smiling. Teletubby was donning a fancy green shirt and a black vest that couldn’t cover his massive midsection. As I watched him in line, whispering to a girl behind him, I couldn’t help but grin. “Why is you smilin’ at me?” he asked. I just shook me head, unable to wipe that look off of my face.
After yesterday’s performance, I was worrying about a letdown. Once again, he didn’t disappoint. “The Giant Leprechaun” (my nickname for him today) was once again in a singing mood with his faux-girlfriend (I’ll call her Addie, because she really needs Adderol). I attempted to teach for a good five minutes and couldn’t get those two to stop with their harmonizing. Finally, I shouted Teletubby’s last name. He replied, “Mr. C-------. I’m fittin’ to do my work. I just needed to hit that high note first.” I told him that he had missed it.
Once again, Teletubby left me in stitches. I don’t know if I have ever met somebody with more comical mannerisms than him. I was in the middle of explaining a problem when he got out of his seat, walked to the front of the room, and bent over and started touching the carpet. When I asked him what on earth he was doing, he said, “I saw some dirt on the carpet, so I thought I’d clean it up.”
There was a new student in class today. He sat in the corner and was relatively quiet, but he was laughing by the end at Teletubby. Addie asked the new kid if he was laughing because of her dear friend. “Yeah. Is he…?” He didn’t need to finish the question. I don’t think he needed to hear the answer. Ohhhh yessssss…
Fifth period: The Entertainer, TB, Skinny Kid, Onepac’s Sister, one of the new kids, Linda Blair, The Mouth and another girl. No Onepac…
I learned what had happened during third period when I heard the shouting from the hallway. There was a “fight”.
Skinny Kid is dating Onepac’s sister. Apparently, he told her during science class that he didn’t want to see her anymore. Onepac got in his face and actually jumped on his back and hit him. Incredibly, Skinny Kid didn’t fight back. He said that he really wanted to, but he knew that if he did, he wouldn’t be able to get out of NHS. I was really proud when I heard that.
The class went alright. I spent my time teaching The Mouth and the new kid how to do their worksheet while the rest of the class sat on computers. The Entertainer got a check after she smacked Skinny Kid in the back of the head. Apparently, he called her a bitch.
She asked to leave the room for a minute, and the security lady brought her back a minute later, telling me that if she was kicked out again, she would come back and embarrass her in front of the class. If what Ho Man (yeahhhhh man) said was true about her entertaining of her male counterparts at school, I can’t imagine embarrassing her would be too difficult.
A few minutes later, she started the shoving again, although this time, I heard the word “bitch” coming from Skinny Kid’s lips. Checks for both. Honestly, I threw out all of my checks at the end of the day. We’re nearing the end of the year and no other teachers are even writing them. I would stop as well, but I don’t want to endanger my status as the least popular teacher at NHS.
I made sure to get in a couple of good jabs with the kids in fifth period as well. One of the newer boys was complaining about a check that I gave him. I walked to the other end of the room, grabbed some tissue, and handed it to him. “What’s this?” he asked. I responded, “Something to wipe your tears with,” as I walked away. Later, Skinny Kid approached me with a question. As he went to sit down, I patted him on the back. “Don’t touch me, brah,” he said. A minute later, he returned the favor, so I said, “Don’t touch me, brah.” He continued to flail his arms around me, so I lunged for him. Jumped back about two feet. He laughed. “Man…” I can’t say that I saw myself ever doing that to any student there three months ago.
I am happy to report that Skinny Kid and Onepac’s sister appear to have reconciled their differences and are madly in love. I “cockblocked” him again though, making her sit at the other end of the room. At the end of the class period, he approached me and told him that he thought he deserved candy as a reward for not fighting back. I told him that the real reward would be getting to go back to his old school, not a cheap piece of candy. “Man, you trippin’,” he exclaimed as he left the room.
I will miss Onepac. He always looked like he wanted to hit me. Not sure if I could've done what Skinny Kid did. I also am disappointed I missed out on the chance to have a rap battle with him.
Homeroom was similar to yesterday's session. I helped Psycho T and Slim work on their packets while the rest of the kids were on the computers. I kicked Hand Cramps off of the computer when she was on a website that she “didn’t know what it was”. Magically, she had typed “how to get on myspace at school” into a Google search engine. For the rest of homeroom, she and Jam Master Jay complained about how mean I was and how little I cared about the kids. I can safely say that if Jay wasn’t so close to getting out of here and going back to his old school, I would have written him up five times in the past two weeks. Today, I told him not to come back to my class for the rest of the year. He went to FLC, but the big guy in charge said that if I couldn’t handle him, he couldn’t either. I have to figure out what I’m going to do with him.
After school, I talked to Dee’s counselor. I told her that she has been doing better, but she still is easily influenced by her classmates. For example, today many students went on the computers. Dee could have worked on her packet, her extra credit report, or one of the worksheets, but she also went on the computer. The problem with these kids is even the best ones are not leaders.
The counselor made a remark about how I was talking to Dee like a young adult and told her that she should be able to look me in the eye. Even after instructed to do so, she couldn’t. So little confidence.
I once again offered to help her a bit with my planning time, and she accepted my offer. We made it through three worksheets in her packet. I think she is closing in on the number of points she needs to get that D. If not, I might make a small mistake in figuring out her grade.
I’ve never been very good at math…
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Good Cop / Bad Cop
I played the role of prick for much of the day, and I daresay that I played it quite well.
I’d like to believe that I ended the day being the good guy, and I still know how to do that, too.
First period went relatively well. The Instigator was gone. Boy with the Tattooed Hands was back in class without his mother for the first time in a long time. He did absolutely no work and was going at it with Lady Cheaterly the entire time. I ended up moving her to the other side of the room.
The Rapist showed up forty minutes late and then was in shock when he learned that I had marked him absent. I quickly jumped down his throat, asking him how on earth I could predict that he would be that late to class. “Man, you aren’t in a good mood today, are you, Mr. C--------?” I told him that I was until he showed up.
I gave the students time to work on their worksheets from yesterday and catch up on any of the old work as well. Most finished during class time and went on the computers afterwards. I spent my period sitting next to a few students and answering questions on their work. They worked hard, so it made me feel pretty good to help them out. The only hassle was Jam Master Jay.
Jay started his day by drawing a picture. He tends to enjoy sketching himself, aka Swagga Kid on every sheet of paper he can get his hands on. I walked behind him, grabbed his artwork, crumpled it into a ball, and threw it away. The whining commenced, but I kept talking to the class without missing a beat. A minute later, he was drawing another picture, so I gave him a check. Normally, I would let it slide, but he is so close to getting out of here, yet he continues to act up just to see what he can get away with.
I ended up giving him two checks and told him to “shut his mouth” once and to “shut up” once as well. My patience is wearing thin with him.
Second period went pretty well. I gave Shawshank a hard time because of his LSU tie, even telling him that he was in uniform violation. He followed me from the beginning, but several students had no clue that I was joking and it almost caused a little drama in the class. He told me he would wear a Florida Gator tie tomorrow. I warned him that some of his classmates might try to beat him up if he does that.
Some of the students had finished their work yesterday, so they were on the computers. I spent most of that period working with Prudence, Rosie, and The Silver Tongue with their work.
I have always been a mumbler and fast talker, so slowing down and being easier to understand has been a challenge for me with teaching here. I have to often ask students if they follow what I am saying and I have even developed the annoying speaking habit of asking “Okay?” ad nauseum. I was attempting to explain one of the questions which asked how far from an object’s starting point it was after five seconds. The students were given a chart with times and positions, and they needed to be able to find the velocity and then apply it. I tried explaining for maybe a minute or so and then paused to check and see if I was being followed. When I asked Prudence whether she followed, she nodded her head, but her eyes were so blank that I could nearly see through them. I smiled and told her that it was okay if she didn’t understand. I’d try to explain it again. She paused, said, “Well…” and then told me she only understood part of it. After getting through to her, Prudence figured out that in order to find how far from the starting position the object was, she needed to subtract the initial from the final. The Silver Tongue chimed in, “Oh! So you’re just minusing then?” As I confirmed, she blew a large bubble with her gum (the gum that she told me minutes earlier she didn’t have). I told her to spit it out but couldn’t wipe the smile off my face.
A minute later, we were starting to wrap up the worksheet when another student came to hand his work in. Prudence quickly erased one of her answers and began frantically writing something. When I asked what she was doing, she responded, “I was just trying to copy that paper.” I’m not sure why she would attempt to do that when her teacher was taking her through every single problem and the boy who she tried to copy from is currently at 67% in class.
With the last few minutes of class, I showed a few students their grades. Prudence and The Silver Tongue are both at solid C’s, while Rosie has a high B. All three can improve their grades and told me that they would like some extra work. That remains to be seen.
Third period was a bit larger today, with the additions of Strahan, Terry Schiavo, and one other boy. Terry Schiavo asked me before class if he could go to the special education classroom and watch a movie because nobody else was in my class today. I was in the doorway when he asked, and three steps towards him revealed that there were several students lined up outside my door. I told him no, but he entered the room across the hall anyways. I had to open the door and ask him to come with me. The sergeant across the hall chewed him out a bit. This kid is so out of it that he once asked the sergeant’s daughter for a phone number. Before returning to my class, I turned to the sergeant and said, “Just think: He could be your son someday.” That warranted a pretty dirty look.
I entered the room and knew that it would be a bit of a struggle. I have two students (Dogface and the boy that got stabbed with the pencil) that always say they are concerned with their grades, but they don’t seem to do much about it. Today was no different.
Dumbo had his back turned to the front of the class for a solid fifteen minutes. I checked on his bell ringer. Yesterday, he was only about to write his name and the date in 25 minutes. Today, he went above and beyond expectations, including the first three words of the question (Marc was trying). I looked at his paper, bent over with my pen and wrote underneath: (Name) is not. The kids got a kick out of that.
I have done a better job of not showing too much frustration in front of my students. Can’t let them know that they are getting to me. Strahan, who told me he wasn’t going to do any work, began mimicking everything that I said. I went up to him with a check in my hand and why he was still in school. “You will be back here next year as an 18-year old 8th grader.” He didn’t take too kindly to those words, and when I held out the check, he squeezed my hand while getting the check. I told him to write it for ten and quickly changed my mind after he kept whining. “Just get out of here,” I calmly stated. He mocked me once again and I just stood by the door with an arrogant smirk on my face. He showed off a gap-toothed glare and was out the door. I parted with “see you next year” and returned to my students, laughing as I did it.
I can’t say I will miss that fat, worthless slug very much.
Dumbo continued chatting with the students around him. Man Man and Terry Schiavo were both sleeping. I placed a worksheet on Schiavo’s head, which remained there for a solid 3-4 minutes. Dogface and Pencil Stabbed did their work, taking several breaks to talk.
I knew I wasn’t going to get much across during the period, so I was content to throw little jabs and observe my students’ stupidity. Dumbo took the cake.
I had to move him to the front because he was talking so much. Every time he turned around, I stood directly in front of him and waved my hand right in his face. I believe at one time I actually asked him, “Are you there?” I still don’t know if he was.
He was trying to pick a fight with one of the boys in the back of the class, a student I generally like. He once offered to cut my hair, so I will just call him The Barber. Dumbo was saying how The Barber looked high and was on cocaine. “Your eye’s shinin’,” he said. The Barber replied, “My dick’s shinin’.” I gave him a check and when Dumbo continued talking, I handed him one as well. He didn’t take it well, throwing it back at me. Maybe he wasn’t intelligent enough to know that a small piece of paper was unlikely to hurt me.
I should have kicked Dumbo out at that point, but I decided to wait around a few minutes to see what I could come up with. I am known for writing extremely long referrals, and I also know that if I can get some of these kids out for the rest of the year, that’s one less person that I have to deal with.
Dumbo delivered a minute later when he threw Dogface’s pencil back at him. It wasn’t hard, but I figured it was enough to take up another line on his lengthy referral. Dumbo refused to move from his seat for a good minute or two, saying he wasn’t going to go outside and run unless I made The Barber run as well. I didn’t sway, and a minute later, he was in the hall. When he overheard me telling the sergeant across the hall that I was going to write a referral, Dumbo became livid.
Inside, Dogface kept asking me to “be cool” and not write Dumbo up. Apparently, he is close to being able to go back to his old school, and one more referral will crush any chance that he may have. I didn’t waver on my statement and wrote up exactly what happened. I told Dogface, “I was never cool.”
Lunch was a pleasant surprise. Last week was Teacher’s Appreciation Week, and we had catfish lunches in the lounge. I am not used to eating lunch, so I felt slightly stuffed for the second of the day, but I can’t complain.
Fourth period was a joy, even with Suit Man suspended for a few days. I had Teletubby back and he proved that he is all I need. Wow.
Teletubby was going at it a bit with a female student, once again telling her that he ran the classroom. As I did previously, I looked at him and said, “Ignorance is bliss,” in a slightly more effeminate manner than usual. He chuckled loudly.
As always, class started with the bell ringer. Teletubby was in the back of the class, talking loudly with Third Bun in the Oven. I gave a boy a small Butterfingers bar for doing his work, because every other student in the entire class was talking. Teletubby was a bit upset with that.
The large creature approached my desk and started whining about Starbursts and Jolly Ranchers. I noticed he had a small hard candy in his hand. I asked to see it, and he told me that he had a cold. “Oh,” I exclaimed as I reached for it. I looked at it for a minute, unwrapped it, then put it in my mouth. “Mr. C-------, you wrong for that,” Teletubby observed. “Not bad,” I said.
To further inspire my precious children, I offered another candy bar as a reward for getting the problem correct. The same boy who got the first candy bar was the only student that was correct. Teletubby kept calling my name to check his problem. I did so and then started walking away. He asked if he was right, and I quickly responded with a “no” before continuing my walk. While I was going through the problem, Teletubby raised his hand, telling me that he would wait until I was finished before “going off” on me. I walked to the back of the room a minute later and asked him what the issue was. He kept whining about the Jolly Ranchers I was allegedly supposed to get for him. I decided at that point that he reminded me of a Jolly Rancher, and that became his class nickname for the day.
The bell ringer from today dealt with a guy who wanted to open up a juice stand, selling cups of juice. He set different prices each week for four weeks and as expected, sold a different amount of cups each week. I was trying to explain to the students that setting prices was a difficult decision because a person needs to figure out the highest price that they can charge and still sell a lot of units. Teletubby showed his business sense by adding that higher prices would mean more people would steal the product. We are thinking of starting a business together.
The girl who complained about the heat yesterday (call her Heat Stroke) was back in class today and talking up a storm. She decided to tell me that she is now dating Teletubby (an obvious joke) and she wouldn’t take her hands off of the large fruitcake. She started singing about him and then added my name in a few times. It was clear that she needs medication to settle down, because she continued talking the entire time. I saw her drawing a sketch of another boy in class, and she got out of her desk and walked around the entire room, showing it off to every student in class. The boy got her back by drawing a naked picture of her. Not very complimentary.
I took Heat Stroke out in the hallway for a minute and let her cool down (pun intended). I was too lazy to write up another referral, so I let her back inside, putting her in a corner. She was slightly better.
My favorite part of the period came when I was sitting at my desk. I told the students that if they finished their worksheets, they could go on the computer. Teletubby, who had spent much of his class time singing in his Mariah Carey wannabe falsetto, came up to my desk to ask if his worksheet was correct. It was very obvious to me that he had no idea what he was doing and had merely copied most of his answers from other students. I got to his last answer and I lost it.
The worksheet dealt with a situation where a skater is observed at certain positions at different times. The students are given a table of values and a blank grid. They were asked to grid his position as a function of time and then answer questions regarding it. There were two separate trials, both with constant velocity. In the first trial, the skater started at a position of 10 meters and traveled at a speed of 2 meters/second. In the second trial, the initial position was 4 meters and the skater was going 3 meters/second. The final question read as follows:
In the first trial the skater was further along at 2s than he was in the second trial. Does this mean that he was going faster? Explain your answer.
Teletubby’s full answer: 7.
I played it up a bit more than I needed to, but I started laughing pretty loudly. He responded by asking, “Mr. C--------, why is you laughing? Why is you laughing at me, Mr. C--------? Is it right?”
The tears started flowing a bit and I had no intention of letting them stop. “Some of it,” I blurted out between cackles.
After about a minute, I was able to wipe the tears away from my reddened cheeks and calm down. Teletubby was in his seat. He said, “Well, I needed yo help, but you was too busy cryin’.” I went over and helped him work out the problems. He gave me one of several of his patented pats on the back at that moment.
TB came into class before I made it to the hallway before fifth period. He offered me an oatmeal cookie. I said, “No thanks,” and then made sure he knew that he wasn’t supposed to have those at school. A moment later when all of my students were in the room, he began offering it up to other students and then decided that he would give it to the first student who got the bell ringer correct. I saved him the trouble, taking it from me and then I ate it in front of the whole class. Gasps. I later explained that I had to eat it because I knew the answer to the bell ringer before any of them had even finished reading the question.
That class went alright today, but I had a few students that got on my case. I was helping a couple of kids with their worksheets when Jamaican Mon asked me a question about one of the problems. I saw he had done it incorrectly and offered some advice. Unsure if he was following me, I asked, “Do you understand what I mean?” He immediately jumped down my throat, accusing me of talking to him like he was stupid (he is). He then told me that he knew how to do the problem, he just wanted to see how I would talk to him. He had no clue what he was doing and merely hoped to create a fight. I heard that he ended up in FLC at the end of the day, so I might not be seeing him again.
The new girl, who I call The Entertainer, also got on my case a bit today. I merely looked at her and she started yelling at me. “WHY ARE YOU ALWAYS LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT? Shoot.” After a few more complaints, I took her out in the hallway. The kids get so defensive so quickly. I had no intention of getting her in trouble or even making a comment to her, but she went off and took a non-issue and turned it into one.
Despite the two students blow up at me, I also received some nice compliments from students. When The Mouth left to go test, she turned to me before exiting and said, “I’ll miss you.” I can’t believe I’m saying it, but in another week when I leave, I’ll miss her, too.
Homeroom = free time. I spent my time on the computer and called over a few of my students so they could see their grades. I hoped this would inspire a few of them (Psycho T) to do some of the extra credit that I offered.
I also called over Jam Master Jay to talk about the two checks that I had made him write earlier in the day. On his way over, he called me mean. I had planned on letting him rip up the checks, which I told him. I then said that I changed my mind because he was acting like a dink. Yes, I used the word “dink” in class.
After school, I had a couple of experiences that made me think.
Experience One: I was returning to my classroom from the office when I saw The Mouth next to the English teacher and a man I didn’t know. I found out that it was her probation officer. I jokingly approached her with a check, telling her that it had been too long since I’d given her one. I then heard her probation officer asking about her pregnancy. He wanted to know who the father was. I was the only one in the area besides The Mouth who knew. She told me that it was alright if I told him, but she couldn’t because saying the name made her sick. I told him that it was The Rapist.
Now, The Mouth isn’t exactly a prize, but I do genuinely like her and know that she deserves better than some prick who doesn’t even acknowledge her in the hallway. Granted, it was her decision to sleep with him, but it is a hefty price to pay. I look at myself as a relatively mature 24-year old. I also look at myself as somebody who is in no way even close to being ready to have children. The Mouth had told me something today about possibly being able to transition to her old school. I don’t think she understands how low that should be on her list of priorities. She doesn’t know what sort of responsibility she will face. I feel for her. I feel for the child that she will be bringing into the world. Not a good situation.
Experience Two: I tutored a girl from my homeroom again today. I haven’t written about her very much. If you can remember, she was the girl who went off on me when I asked the students to wait in the hallways so I could go to the office to grab my attendance sheet. Disregarding that incident, she is a pretty nice girl. For some reason, whenever I look at her, she makes me a little sad. You can tell that she hasn’t had an easy life and just doesn’t seem to have a whole lot of belief in herself. She is dating a guy that is locked up at the juvenile detention center and she just isn’t very smart.
The girl has a realistic shot to transition back to her old school. She was suspended only once and has good attendance. The one thing that is holding her back is her 1.2 GPA. The one class that she is failing: Math. After the incident in the hallway, I was talking to her counselor and offered to take time during my planning period to help her with her math. She has been in a couple of times. Today, she worked on a packet with me.
Her goal is to get a D in my class. If she can get a D, her other grades will bump her up to the 2.0 that she needs to get out of NHS. I think I came up with her nickname: Dee.
Dee currently has a 54% in the class. She needs to raise her grade to a 70% to pass. I am throwing every extra credit opportunity that I can to help her accumulate points. I am not handing the grade to her, but I am not going to feel guilty about holding it out for her to grab.
I believe she is going to grab it.
We spent about 25 minutes today going through a worksheet that is part of the extra credit packet that I made several weeks ago. I taught her range, mean, median, and mode today. I look at her and know that she doesn’t follow 95% of what I say to her. Most of the time, I end up leading her to the answer until I grow tired of trying to explain it and then I just give it to her.
Today she asked me a question that left me speechless.
Let me preface it by explaining what the “median” is for non-math types. In a set of numbers, the median is the middle number. Dee, who told me that 3 x 3 = 6, asked me what to do if there is an even number of entries in a set. She asked, “Don’t you add the two middle numbers together and then do something with that?”
It took me a minute to recover from what was an excellent and logical math question. Finally, I said, “Uhh…yeah. You find the mean of the two numbers then, so you add them together and divide by two.”
Five minutes later, it was time for the buses, so she got up to leave. “Yeah, I get this. Thanks, Mr. C-------,” she said as she walked out the door.
It has taken me a long time to adjust to an authority role (still not a “mister”), and I am not deluding myself into believing that most of these kids have any respect for me at all. I am also not so out of it that I believe that Dee will ever be a brilliant mathematician. I will say that I don’t think there is a snowball’s chance in hell that she would have asked that same question three months ago. I also will not even attempt to hide my smile on the last day of school when I can say I played a small part in getting her out of NHS and back to her old school. For Dee, that very well may be the biggest accomplishment of her life.
I’d like to believe that I ended the day being the good guy, and I still know how to do that, too.
First period went relatively well. The Instigator was gone. Boy with the Tattooed Hands was back in class without his mother for the first time in a long time. He did absolutely no work and was going at it with Lady Cheaterly the entire time. I ended up moving her to the other side of the room.
The Rapist showed up forty minutes late and then was in shock when he learned that I had marked him absent. I quickly jumped down his throat, asking him how on earth I could predict that he would be that late to class. “Man, you aren’t in a good mood today, are you, Mr. C--------?” I told him that I was until he showed up.
I gave the students time to work on their worksheets from yesterday and catch up on any of the old work as well. Most finished during class time and went on the computers afterwards. I spent my period sitting next to a few students and answering questions on their work. They worked hard, so it made me feel pretty good to help them out. The only hassle was Jam Master Jay.
Jay started his day by drawing a picture. He tends to enjoy sketching himself, aka Swagga Kid on every sheet of paper he can get his hands on. I walked behind him, grabbed his artwork, crumpled it into a ball, and threw it away. The whining commenced, but I kept talking to the class without missing a beat. A minute later, he was drawing another picture, so I gave him a check. Normally, I would let it slide, but he is so close to getting out of here, yet he continues to act up just to see what he can get away with.
I ended up giving him two checks and told him to “shut his mouth” once and to “shut up” once as well. My patience is wearing thin with him.
Second period went pretty well. I gave Shawshank a hard time because of his LSU tie, even telling him that he was in uniform violation. He followed me from the beginning, but several students had no clue that I was joking and it almost caused a little drama in the class. He told me he would wear a Florida Gator tie tomorrow. I warned him that some of his classmates might try to beat him up if he does that.
Some of the students had finished their work yesterday, so they were on the computers. I spent most of that period working with Prudence, Rosie, and The Silver Tongue with their work.
I have always been a mumbler and fast talker, so slowing down and being easier to understand has been a challenge for me with teaching here. I have to often ask students if they follow what I am saying and I have even developed the annoying speaking habit of asking “Okay?” ad nauseum. I was attempting to explain one of the questions which asked how far from an object’s starting point it was after five seconds. The students were given a chart with times and positions, and they needed to be able to find the velocity and then apply it. I tried explaining for maybe a minute or so and then paused to check and see if I was being followed. When I asked Prudence whether she followed, she nodded her head, but her eyes were so blank that I could nearly see through them. I smiled and told her that it was okay if she didn’t understand. I’d try to explain it again. She paused, said, “Well…” and then told me she only understood part of it. After getting through to her, Prudence figured out that in order to find how far from the starting position the object was, she needed to subtract the initial from the final. The Silver Tongue chimed in, “Oh! So you’re just minusing then?” As I confirmed, she blew a large bubble with her gum (the gum that she told me minutes earlier she didn’t have). I told her to spit it out but couldn’t wipe the smile off my face.
A minute later, we were starting to wrap up the worksheet when another student came to hand his work in. Prudence quickly erased one of her answers and began frantically writing something. When I asked what she was doing, she responded, “I was just trying to copy that paper.” I’m not sure why she would attempt to do that when her teacher was taking her through every single problem and the boy who she tried to copy from is currently at 67% in class.
With the last few minutes of class, I showed a few students their grades. Prudence and The Silver Tongue are both at solid C’s, while Rosie has a high B. All three can improve their grades and told me that they would like some extra work. That remains to be seen.
Third period was a bit larger today, with the additions of Strahan, Terry Schiavo, and one other boy. Terry Schiavo asked me before class if he could go to the special education classroom and watch a movie because nobody else was in my class today. I was in the doorway when he asked, and three steps towards him revealed that there were several students lined up outside my door. I told him no, but he entered the room across the hall anyways. I had to open the door and ask him to come with me. The sergeant across the hall chewed him out a bit. This kid is so out of it that he once asked the sergeant’s daughter for a phone number. Before returning to my class, I turned to the sergeant and said, “Just think: He could be your son someday.” That warranted a pretty dirty look.
I entered the room and knew that it would be a bit of a struggle. I have two students (Dogface and the boy that got stabbed with the pencil) that always say they are concerned with their grades, but they don’t seem to do much about it. Today was no different.
Dumbo had his back turned to the front of the class for a solid fifteen minutes. I checked on his bell ringer. Yesterday, he was only about to write his name and the date in 25 minutes. Today, he went above and beyond expectations, including the first three words of the question (Marc was trying). I looked at his paper, bent over with my pen and wrote underneath: (Name) is not. The kids got a kick out of that.
I have done a better job of not showing too much frustration in front of my students. Can’t let them know that they are getting to me. Strahan, who told me he wasn’t going to do any work, began mimicking everything that I said. I went up to him with a check in my hand and why he was still in school. “You will be back here next year as an 18-year old 8th grader.” He didn’t take too kindly to those words, and when I held out the check, he squeezed my hand while getting the check. I told him to write it for ten and quickly changed my mind after he kept whining. “Just get out of here,” I calmly stated. He mocked me once again and I just stood by the door with an arrogant smirk on my face. He showed off a gap-toothed glare and was out the door. I parted with “see you next year” and returned to my students, laughing as I did it.
I can’t say I will miss that fat, worthless slug very much.
Dumbo continued chatting with the students around him. Man Man and Terry Schiavo were both sleeping. I placed a worksheet on Schiavo’s head, which remained there for a solid 3-4 minutes. Dogface and Pencil Stabbed did their work, taking several breaks to talk.
I knew I wasn’t going to get much across during the period, so I was content to throw little jabs and observe my students’ stupidity. Dumbo took the cake.
I had to move him to the front because he was talking so much. Every time he turned around, I stood directly in front of him and waved my hand right in his face. I believe at one time I actually asked him, “Are you there?” I still don’t know if he was.
He was trying to pick a fight with one of the boys in the back of the class, a student I generally like. He once offered to cut my hair, so I will just call him The Barber. Dumbo was saying how The Barber looked high and was on cocaine. “Your eye’s shinin’,” he said. The Barber replied, “My dick’s shinin’.” I gave him a check and when Dumbo continued talking, I handed him one as well. He didn’t take it well, throwing it back at me. Maybe he wasn’t intelligent enough to know that a small piece of paper was unlikely to hurt me.
I should have kicked Dumbo out at that point, but I decided to wait around a few minutes to see what I could come up with. I am known for writing extremely long referrals, and I also know that if I can get some of these kids out for the rest of the year, that’s one less person that I have to deal with.
Dumbo delivered a minute later when he threw Dogface’s pencil back at him. It wasn’t hard, but I figured it was enough to take up another line on his lengthy referral. Dumbo refused to move from his seat for a good minute or two, saying he wasn’t going to go outside and run unless I made The Barber run as well. I didn’t sway, and a minute later, he was in the hall. When he overheard me telling the sergeant across the hall that I was going to write a referral, Dumbo became livid.
Inside, Dogface kept asking me to “be cool” and not write Dumbo up. Apparently, he is close to being able to go back to his old school, and one more referral will crush any chance that he may have. I didn’t waver on my statement and wrote up exactly what happened. I told Dogface, “I was never cool.”
Lunch was a pleasant surprise. Last week was Teacher’s Appreciation Week, and we had catfish lunches in the lounge. I am not used to eating lunch, so I felt slightly stuffed for the second of the day, but I can’t complain.
Fourth period was a joy, even with Suit Man suspended for a few days. I had Teletubby back and he proved that he is all I need. Wow.
Teletubby was going at it a bit with a female student, once again telling her that he ran the classroom. As I did previously, I looked at him and said, “Ignorance is bliss,” in a slightly more effeminate manner than usual. He chuckled loudly.
As always, class started with the bell ringer. Teletubby was in the back of the class, talking loudly with Third Bun in the Oven. I gave a boy a small Butterfingers bar for doing his work, because every other student in the entire class was talking. Teletubby was a bit upset with that.
The large creature approached my desk and started whining about Starbursts and Jolly Ranchers. I noticed he had a small hard candy in his hand. I asked to see it, and he told me that he had a cold. “Oh,” I exclaimed as I reached for it. I looked at it for a minute, unwrapped it, then put it in my mouth. “Mr. C-------, you wrong for that,” Teletubby observed. “Not bad,” I said.
To further inspire my precious children, I offered another candy bar as a reward for getting the problem correct. The same boy who got the first candy bar was the only student that was correct. Teletubby kept calling my name to check his problem. I did so and then started walking away. He asked if he was right, and I quickly responded with a “no” before continuing my walk. While I was going through the problem, Teletubby raised his hand, telling me that he would wait until I was finished before “going off” on me. I walked to the back of the room a minute later and asked him what the issue was. He kept whining about the Jolly Ranchers I was allegedly supposed to get for him. I decided at that point that he reminded me of a Jolly Rancher, and that became his class nickname for the day.
The bell ringer from today dealt with a guy who wanted to open up a juice stand, selling cups of juice. He set different prices each week for four weeks and as expected, sold a different amount of cups each week. I was trying to explain to the students that setting prices was a difficult decision because a person needs to figure out the highest price that they can charge and still sell a lot of units. Teletubby showed his business sense by adding that higher prices would mean more people would steal the product. We are thinking of starting a business together.
The girl who complained about the heat yesterday (call her Heat Stroke) was back in class today and talking up a storm. She decided to tell me that she is now dating Teletubby (an obvious joke) and she wouldn’t take her hands off of the large fruitcake. She started singing about him and then added my name in a few times. It was clear that she needs medication to settle down, because she continued talking the entire time. I saw her drawing a sketch of another boy in class, and she got out of her desk and walked around the entire room, showing it off to every student in class. The boy got her back by drawing a naked picture of her. Not very complimentary.
I took Heat Stroke out in the hallway for a minute and let her cool down (pun intended). I was too lazy to write up another referral, so I let her back inside, putting her in a corner. She was slightly better.
My favorite part of the period came when I was sitting at my desk. I told the students that if they finished their worksheets, they could go on the computer. Teletubby, who had spent much of his class time singing in his Mariah Carey wannabe falsetto, came up to my desk to ask if his worksheet was correct. It was very obvious to me that he had no idea what he was doing and had merely copied most of his answers from other students. I got to his last answer and I lost it.
The worksheet dealt with a situation where a skater is observed at certain positions at different times. The students are given a table of values and a blank grid. They were asked to grid his position as a function of time and then answer questions regarding it. There were two separate trials, both with constant velocity. In the first trial, the skater started at a position of 10 meters and traveled at a speed of 2 meters/second. In the second trial, the initial position was 4 meters and the skater was going 3 meters/second. The final question read as follows:
In the first trial the skater was further along at 2s than he was in the second trial. Does this mean that he was going faster? Explain your answer.
Teletubby’s full answer: 7.
I played it up a bit more than I needed to, but I started laughing pretty loudly. He responded by asking, “Mr. C--------, why is you laughing? Why is you laughing at me, Mr. C--------? Is it right?”
The tears started flowing a bit and I had no intention of letting them stop. “Some of it,” I blurted out between cackles.
After about a minute, I was able to wipe the tears away from my reddened cheeks and calm down. Teletubby was in his seat. He said, “Well, I needed yo help, but you was too busy cryin’.” I went over and helped him work out the problems. He gave me one of several of his patented pats on the back at that moment.
TB came into class before I made it to the hallway before fifth period. He offered me an oatmeal cookie. I said, “No thanks,” and then made sure he knew that he wasn’t supposed to have those at school. A moment later when all of my students were in the room, he began offering it up to other students and then decided that he would give it to the first student who got the bell ringer correct. I saved him the trouble, taking it from me and then I ate it in front of the whole class. Gasps. I later explained that I had to eat it because I knew the answer to the bell ringer before any of them had even finished reading the question.
That class went alright today, but I had a few students that got on my case. I was helping a couple of kids with their worksheets when Jamaican Mon asked me a question about one of the problems. I saw he had done it incorrectly and offered some advice. Unsure if he was following me, I asked, “Do you understand what I mean?” He immediately jumped down my throat, accusing me of talking to him like he was stupid (he is). He then told me that he knew how to do the problem, he just wanted to see how I would talk to him. He had no clue what he was doing and merely hoped to create a fight. I heard that he ended up in FLC at the end of the day, so I might not be seeing him again.
The new girl, who I call The Entertainer, also got on my case a bit today. I merely looked at her and she started yelling at me. “WHY ARE YOU ALWAYS LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT? Shoot.” After a few more complaints, I took her out in the hallway. The kids get so defensive so quickly. I had no intention of getting her in trouble or even making a comment to her, but she went off and took a non-issue and turned it into one.
Despite the two students blow up at me, I also received some nice compliments from students. When The Mouth left to go test, she turned to me before exiting and said, “I’ll miss you.” I can’t believe I’m saying it, but in another week when I leave, I’ll miss her, too.
Homeroom = free time. I spent my time on the computer and called over a few of my students so they could see their grades. I hoped this would inspire a few of them (Psycho T) to do some of the extra credit that I offered.
I also called over Jam Master Jay to talk about the two checks that I had made him write earlier in the day. On his way over, he called me mean. I had planned on letting him rip up the checks, which I told him. I then said that I changed my mind because he was acting like a dink. Yes, I used the word “dink” in class.
After school, I had a couple of experiences that made me think.
Experience One: I was returning to my classroom from the office when I saw The Mouth next to the English teacher and a man I didn’t know. I found out that it was her probation officer. I jokingly approached her with a check, telling her that it had been too long since I’d given her one. I then heard her probation officer asking about her pregnancy. He wanted to know who the father was. I was the only one in the area besides The Mouth who knew. She told me that it was alright if I told him, but she couldn’t because saying the name made her sick. I told him that it was The Rapist.
Now, The Mouth isn’t exactly a prize, but I do genuinely like her and know that she deserves better than some prick who doesn’t even acknowledge her in the hallway. Granted, it was her decision to sleep with him, but it is a hefty price to pay. I look at myself as a relatively mature 24-year old. I also look at myself as somebody who is in no way even close to being ready to have children. The Mouth had told me something today about possibly being able to transition to her old school. I don’t think she understands how low that should be on her list of priorities. She doesn’t know what sort of responsibility she will face. I feel for her. I feel for the child that she will be bringing into the world. Not a good situation.
Experience Two: I tutored a girl from my homeroom again today. I haven’t written about her very much. If you can remember, she was the girl who went off on me when I asked the students to wait in the hallways so I could go to the office to grab my attendance sheet. Disregarding that incident, she is a pretty nice girl. For some reason, whenever I look at her, she makes me a little sad. You can tell that she hasn’t had an easy life and just doesn’t seem to have a whole lot of belief in herself. She is dating a guy that is locked up at the juvenile detention center and she just isn’t very smart.
The girl has a realistic shot to transition back to her old school. She was suspended only once and has good attendance. The one thing that is holding her back is her 1.2 GPA. The one class that she is failing: Math. After the incident in the hallway, I was talking to her counselor and offered to take time during my planning period to help her with her math. She has been in a couple of times. Today, she worked on a packet with me.
Her goal is to get a D in my class. If she can get a D, her other grades will bump her up to the 2.0 that she needs to get out of NHS. I think I came up with her nickname: Dee.
Dee currently has a 54% in the class. She needs to raise her grade to a 70% to pass. I am throwing every extra credit opportunity that I can to help her accumulate points. I am not handing the grade to her, but I am not going to feel guilty about holding it out for her to grab.
I believe she is going to grab it.
We spent about 25 minutes today going through a worksheet that is part of the extra credit packet that I made several weeks ago. I taught her range, mean, median, and mode today. I look at her and know that she doesn’t follow 95% of what I say to her. Most of the time, I end up leading her to the answer until I grow tired of trying to explain it and then I just give it to her.
Today she asked me a question that left me speechless.
Let me preface it by explaining what the “median” is for non-math types. In a set of numbers, the median is the middle number. Dee, who told me that 3 x 3 = 6, asked me what to do if there is an even number of entries in a set. She asked, “Don’t you add the two middle numbers together and then do something with that?”
It took me a minute to recover from what was an excellent and logical math question. Finally, I said, “Uhh…yeah. You find the mean of the two numbers then, so you add them together and divide by two.”
Five minutes later, it was time for the buses, so she got up to leave. “Yeah, I get this. Thanks, Mr. C-------,” she said as she walked out the door.
It has taken me a long time to adjust to an authority role (still not a “mister”), and I am not deluding myself into believing that most of these kids have any respect for me at all. I am also not so out of it that I believe that Dee will ever be a brilliant mathematician. I will say that I don’t think there is a snowball’s chance in hell that she would have asked that same question three months ago. I also will not even attempt to hide my smile on the last day of school when I can say I played a small part in getting her out of NHS and back to her old school. For Dee, that very well may be the biggest accomplishment of her life.
Monday, May 11, 2009
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…
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…
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Paying for prostitutes, picking up stoned locals, etc.
Another Friday night on Bourbon Street, which equaled another $115 out of my pocket, another mild hangover, and a few more interesting stories.
I picked up my friend (we’ll call him The Southern Dandy) from the airport around 6:30 and headed once again for my trusted Canal St. Plaza. It was only $63 and we had a nice fifth floor room with a view of the pool. No dead bodies in it, which was a good sign.
I watched the Lakers-Rockets game with The Southern Dandy at a bar on Canal Street after a 24 oz Miller Lite for the walk over. One 32 oz Hurricane, a Miller Lite, and a catfish po-boy later and I was ready to paint the town. I was already tired and feeling the effects of what I had just consumed. I didn’t know how long I would make it.
Bourbon Street wasn’t as busy as last week, but as always, it was still pulsating with people, pilsner, and puke. The first memorable moment of the night happened when a tall black woman in an extremely short skirt walked up to me and put her arm around me. Already stumbling a bit, I took her over to my friend. Another woman quickly joined us. She put her arm around The Southern Dandy, kissed him on the cheek, and grabbed his crotch. My girl asked me if I wanted to buy her a drink. I simply said, “No,” and her attempts to convince me fell on deaf ears. The Southern Dandy’s girl asked him if he wanted to go somewhere and have fun. When he declined her offer, she asked if he was engaged. He said that he wasn’t, but had a girlfriend that he was going to propose to (not true, unless he is very secretive). His less attractive prostitute said that his girlfriend didn’t have to know. He still refused her offer, so she then asked if he would give her a dollar. He handed on to her and said, “There. Now leave me alone.” The Southern Dandy paid a prostitute.
I redeemed myself for last weekend by drinking a Hand Grenade. It did the trick. Walking after my friend, I saw he stopped for a conversation with a shabbily dressed black man. I came in on the middle of the conversation. He turned his attention to me. “I bet you twenty bucks I can tell you where you got your shoes.” He continued offering the bet several times, slightly changing the words every occasion. My friend swears that he started by saying he knew where we got our shoes from. I shook his hand and waited for his answer. He replied, “You got your right shoe on your right foot and your left shoe on your left foot. I have no idea where you bought your shoes. I said where you got your shoes.” He continued by saying that this is what he does for a living and some other random, unintelligible slang. I was a bit confused and horrified. I attempted explaining to him how his statement was grammatically incorrect, but he kept begging for the money. I reached into my wallet and offered him a ball of singles, which totaled far less than the $20 I made the deal for. My friend did the same. “Come on, man. Admit it. I got you.” He told us that he had a homeless boy staying with him and really needed the money. He added, “Maybe I can do something else, maybe hook you up with some blow.” When I told him that I didn’t need any cocaine, he continued voicing his frustration. “We had a deal. This is how I make my living.” I told him that I would feel worse about not keeping my word if his living involved doing something that benefited somebody other than himself. He shrugged his shoulders and walked up to another man. I made sure to walk over there and tell the guy to remember that his shoes are on his feet and that the other guy was only trying to con him out of his money.
I can now say that I’ve been to four strip clubs on Bourbon Street, which ups my lifetime total to five. Sho Bar was not much to write home about, but the man advertising by the door wouldn’t leave us alone. Upon entering, The Southern Dandy was horrified and drank his beer in approximately 30 seconds.
I was starting to really feel the effects and was about to pass out on the bar. I knew it was almost time for me to go. Somehow, I got separated from my friend. Fittingly, my phone died. I had to ask a pair of strangers to use theirs. I found The Southern Dandy and had a final beer before abandoning him like a true friend. I was back in the hotel between 3:30 and 4:00.
The Southern Dandy has a much higher tolerance than I do, so he stayed out. We aren’t sure what time he got in. We just know that his adventure home was a bit longer than mine.
I like the Canal St. Plaza Hotel for a couple of different reasons. Number one is the price. It is also only a half a mile from Bourbon Street. Finally, it is really easy to find. If you go out the door and walk down Canal Street towards the river, you will come across Bourbon Street. Take a left and you are ready for a fun night. Unfortunately, The Southern Dandy turned the wrong way on Canal and began walking towards the Mississippi River. It wasn’t until he started running out of road that he turned around and made his way back to the hotel. We are predicting that he was out until about 6 AM. All we know for sure is we both woke up in the hotel. My hangover wasn’t nearly as bad as I thought it would be.
I think I am about Bourboned out. It’s a fun place, but it beats up both one’s wallet and their liver. I think that might have been my last Bourbon Street experience, atleast for this journey. Not sure when I’ll get back there. Lots of good, foggy memories though.
We spent much of Saturday walking by the river, shopping in the Open-Air Markets and drinking bottle after bottle of water in attempt to hydrate in the 90 degree heat. I also lost twenty dollars in the slots at Harrah’s. Oh well. My uncle came down and walked around with us. By the end of the day, I had a sweat stain on my shirt that closely resembled the fleur de lis. By the end of the day, I also had the opportunity to sit down with a psychic who offered to tell me everything about my life, my soulmate, and my fate. I decided to save my $20 and protect myself from the potential bad news.
We didn’t get back to the homestead until after six. After watching the Cavs-Hawks game at home, we made a return voyage to the Crescent. Even though the one girl I really wanted to see wasn’t at the bar, I must say that that place slightly redeemed itself from last weekend’s pitiful display. I heard that the college is out for the year, which is the reason for dwindling numbers. There were still plenty of attractive women for me to be afraid of.
The Southern Dandy and I went to Somewhere Else and played darts and drank a couple of beers. When I parked the car, I noticed two guys out by the street shouting at each other. After a few shoves, another guy came up and offered his two cents. A few choice words and one of the guys was sprinting across the road with the other two chasing him. I had another chance to break up a fight and failed to do anything about it. Only two more weeks to get it done or I will have cemented my status as Mr. Freeze.
Despite my first impressions, I really don’t mind Somewhere Else. Of course, there aren’t a lot of electronic dartboards in Louisiana (I haven’t seen any yet), so I had to flex my math muscles and keep track of my own score, which was normally lower than my adversaries. We were kicked out about 2:40 when one of the workers at the bar was paranoid we were going to run off with the darts.
Even though I had plenty of fast food during the day (McDonalds and some very old, dry Popeye’s near Nawlins), we decided that we needed a bedtime snack. Wendy’s was closed, so Taco Bell was the next option. I am so glad that we ended up going there because I forged a lifelong bond with a man that I never imagined I’d have the pleasure of meeting.
His name was (and maybe still is) Tyrell. We were a bit worried when he approached my car because my friend had rather loudly remarked how he noticed that a lot of black people “trick out” really crappy cars. He stumbled up to my window and told me he needed me to do something for him. Curious, I asked him what it was. “I need one of them two for five things. You know? One of them things.” I had no clue what he meant, but he handed me three dollars. I asked him what he was talking about and remarked how he only gave me three dollars. “I want those salad things. Two for five. I want three of them. They are 99 cents each.” Confused by his logic, I shook my head. He walked with the car up to the menu and began talking loudly to the box. “The first order is gonna be three of those 99 cent things. Those 89 cent things. Those things,” he mumbled. The kid working the drive thru let out a very confused, “Huh?”
It took a minute to straighten out what he wanted. It ended up being nachos, we think. That’s what he ended up getting anyways. I’m not sure how he thought that was a salad, but I’m also not sure how he was still standing at this point. He asked to sit in my car and wait for his food, but I quickly changed the subject. A minute later, we got our food and were ready to part. Tyrell told me that he needed me to take him home. He said he didn’t live far away.
A few thoughts ran through my head. First off, I knew that my mother would kill me if I picked up this bum that I had known for three minutes. I also knew that it would create a story that I could tell forever and would never forget. I thought that he was too drunk to cause a whole lot of trouble. “What the hell,” I said. “Get in.”
The Southern Dandy didn’t remove his head from his hands. He also didn’t understand a word that Tyrell was saying. I didn’t understand much either, but I think I could make out the following:
1) He spent his night at The Oasis, trying to get some.
2) He was “high as fuck”.
3) He had heard of NHS before, telling me that he follows basketball. NHS hasn’t had a basketball team in six years.
He was sprawled out in the backseat of my car, smoking his cigarette. The one word that The Southern Dandy later told me that he understood was when Tyrell remarked that we were from Wisconsin.
He lived about a mile from Taco Bell. I only wish it would have been a longer trip because then I would have been exposed to more wisdom from my drunk, “high as fuck” friend.
He asked me what my name was. I told him (Matt). “Nat?” he asked. When I reached his place of residence (a trailer), he then told me he needed me to do something for him. “I need two dollars.” When I asked why, he said, “I just need it. I need three dollars.” I had plenty of money in my wallet, but I decided to reach for the change that was right in front of me. I probably gave him around a dollar’s worth. He looked slightly disappointed, but said, “This’ll have to do.” I think that’s what he said anyways.
Tyrell remarked how I saved him and once again asked for my name. I repeated myself. He told me, “Well, this is where I stay. You know where I stay now. I’ll remember you.” No he won’t. With a handshake, he was gone. The Southern Dandy was surprised and slightly disappointed that we didn’t get robbed.
I have learned that people come into and go out of our lives so rapidly that most fail to make that much of an impression. Of course, there are those that are able to leave their mark after a very short time. People that we will always remember. Tyrell…
Today was a bit more relaxing. We drove to TJ Maxx and I got a sweet new Lebron James jacket and I also stopped at Best Buy and bought a couple new CDs. I also bought three pounds of crawfish. The Southern Dandy looked terrified to try it. He’s missing out. Delicious.
Went for a short jog. I need to start running a bit more if I decide to chase my next pipe dream. I am really out of shape. This Southern cuisine isn’t doing me any favors either.
Stopped by Brady’s Pub for some food and a few beers. I think once my laundry gets done, I’ll go back. The Southern Dandy is still there. It wouldn’t be a bad idea to go to work tomorrow with a bit of a hangover. It might help me relate to my students.
I picked up my friend (we’ll call him The Southern Dandy) from the airport around 6:30 and headed once again for my trusted Canal St. Plaza. It was only $63 and we had a nice fifth floor room with a view of the pool. No dead bodies in it, which was a good sign.
I watched the Lakers-Rockets game with The Southern Dandy at a bar on Canal Street after a 24 oz Miller Lite for the walk over. One 32 oz Hurricane, a Miller Lite, and a catfish po-boy later and I was ready to paint the town. I was already tired and feeling the effects of what I had just consumed. I didn’t know how long I would make it.
Bourbon Street wasn’t as busy as last week, but as always, it was still pulsating with people, pilsner, and puke. The first memorable moment of the night happened when a tall black woman in an extremely short skirt walked up to me and put her arm around me. Already stumbling a bit, I took her over to my friend. Another woman quickly joined us. She put her arm around The Southern Dandy, kissed him on the cheek, and grabbed his crotch. My girl asked me if I wanted to buy her a drink. I simply said, “No,” and her attempts to convince me fell on deaf ears. The Southern Dandy’s girl asked him if he wanted to go somewhere and have fun. When he declined her offer, she asked if he was engaged. He said that he wasn’t, but had a girlfriend that he was going to propose to (not true, unless he is very secretive). His less attractive prostitute said that his girlfriend didn’t have to know. He still refused her offer, so she then asked if he would give her a dollar. He handed on to her and said, “There. Now leave me alone.” The Southern Dandy paid a prostitute.
I redeemed myself for last weekend by drinking a Hand Grenade. It did the trick. Walking after my friend, I saw he stopped for a conversation with a shabbily dressed black man. I came in on the middle of the conversation. He turned his attention to me. “I bet you twenty bucks I can tell you where you got your shoes.” He continued offering the bet several times, slightly changing the words every occasion. My friend swears that he started by saying he knew where we got our shoes from. I shook his hand and waited for his answer. He replied, “You got your right shoe on your right foot and your left shoe on your left foot. I have no idea where you bought your shoes. I said where you got your shoes.” He continued by saying that this is what he does for a living and some other random, unintelligible slang. I was a bit confused and horrified. I attempted explaining to him how his statement was grammatically incorrect, but he kept begging for the money. I reached into my wallet and offered him a ball of singles, which totaled far less than the $20 I made the deal for. My friend did the same. “Come on, man. Admit it. I got you.” He told us that he had a homeless boy staying with him and really needed the money. He added, “Maybe I can do something else, maybe hook you up with some blow.” When I told him that I didn’t need any cocaine, he continued voicing his frustration. “We had a deal. This is how I make my living.” I told him that I would feel worse about not keeping my word if his living involved doing something that benefited somebody other than himself. He shrugged his shoulders and walked up to another man. I made sure to walk over there and tell the guy to remember that his shoes are on his feet and that the other guy was only trying to con him out of his money.
I can now say that I’ve been to four strip clubs on Bourbon Street, which ups my lifetime total to five. Sho Bar was not much to write home about, but the man advertising by the door wouldn’t leave us alone. Upon entering, The Southern Dandy was horrified and drank his beer in approximately 30 seconds.
I was starting to really feel the effects and was about to pass out on the bar. I knew it was almost time for me to go. Somehow, I got separated from my friend. Fittingly, my phone died. I had to ask a pair of strangers to use theirs. I found The Southern Dandy and had a final beer before abandoning him like a true friend. I was back in the hotel between 3:30 and 4:00.
The Southern Dandy has a much higher tolerance than I do, so he stayed out. We aren’t sure what time he got in. We just know that his adventure home was a bit longer than mine.
I like the Canal St. Plaza Hotel for a couple of different reasons. Number one is the price. It is also only a half a mile from Bourbon Street. Finally, it is really easy to find. If you go out the door and walk down Canal Street towards the river, you will come across Bourbon Street. Take a left and you are ready for a fun night. Unfortunately, The Southern Dandy turned the wrong way on Canal and began walking towards the Mississippi River. It wasn’t until he started running out of road that he turned around and made his way back to the hotel. We are predicting that he was out until about 6 AM. All we know for sure is we both woke up in the hotel. My hangover wasn’t nearly as bad as I thought it would be.
I think I am about Bourboned out. It’s a fun place, but it beats up both one’s wallet and their liver. I think that might have been my last Bourbon Street experience, atleast for this journey. Not sure when I’ll get back there. Lots of good, foggy memories though.
We spent much of Saturday walking by the river, shopping in the Open-Air Markets and drinking bottle after bottle of water in attempt to hydrate in the 90 degree heat. I also lost twenty dollars in the slots at Harrah’s. Oh well. My uncle came down and walked around with us. By the end of the day, I had a sweat stain on my shirt that closely resembled the fleur de lis. By the end of the day, I also had the opportunity to sit down with a psychic who offered to tell me everything about my life, my soulmate, and my fate. I decided to save my $20 and protect myself from the potential bad news.
We didn’t get back to the homestead until after six. After watching the Cavs-Hawks game at home, we made a return voyage to the Crescent. Even though the one girl I really wanted to see wasn’t at the bar, I must say that that place slightly redeemed itself from last weekend’s pitiful display. I heard that the college is out for the year, which is the reason for dwindling numbers. There were still plenty of attractive women for me to be afraid of.
The Southern Dandy and I went to Somewhere Else and played darts and drank a couple of beers. When I parked the car, I noticed two guys out by the street shouting at each other. After a few shoves, another guy came up and offered his two cents. A few choice words and one of the guys was sprinting across the road with the other two chasing him. I had another chance to break up a fight and failed to do anything about it. Only two more weeks to get it done or I will have cemented my status as Mr. Freeze.
Despite my first impressions, I really don’t mind Somewhere Else. Of course, there aren’t a lot of electronic dartboards in Louisiana (I haven’t seen any yet), so I had to flex my math muscles and keep track of my own score, which was normally lower than my adversaries. We were kicked out about 2:40 when one of the workers at the bar was paranoid we were going to run off with the darts.
Even though I had plenty of fast food during the day (McDonalds and some very old, dry Popeye’s near Nawlins), we decided that we needed a bedtime snack. Wendy’s was closed, so Taco Bell was the next option. I am so glad that we ended up going there because I forged a lifelong bond with a man that I never imagined I’d have the pleasure of meeting.
His name was (and maybe still is) Tyrell. We were a bit worried when he approached my car because my friend had rather loudly remarked how he noticed that a lot of black people “trick out” really crappy cars. He stumbled up to my window and told me he needed me to do something for him. Curious, I asked him what it was. “I need one of them two for five things. You know? One of them things.” I had no clue what he meant, but he handed me three dollars. I asked him what he was talking about and remarked how he only gave me three dollars. “I want those salad things. Two for five. I want three of them. They are 99 cents each.” Confused by his logic, I shook my head. He walked with the car up to the menu and began talking loudly to the box. “The first order is gonna be three of those 99 cent things. Those 89 cent things. Those things,” he mumbled. The kid working the drive thru let out a very confused, “Huh?”
It took a minute to straighten out what he wanted. It ended up being nachos, we think. That’s what he ended up getting anyways. I’m not sure how he thought that was a salad, but I’m also not sure how he was still standing at this point. He asked to sit in my car and wait for his food, but I quickly changed the subject. A minute later, we got our food and were ready to part. Tyrell told me that he needed me to take him home. He said he didn’t live far away.
A few thoughts ran through my head. First off, I knew that my mother would kill me if I picked up this bum that I had known for three minutes. I also knew that it would create a story that I could tell forever and would never forget. I thought that he was too drunk to cause a whole lot of trouble. “What the hell,” I said. “Get in.”
The Southern Dandy didn’t remove his head from his hands. He also didn’t understand a word that Tyrell was saying. I didn’t understand much either, but I think I could make out the following:
1) He spent his night at The Oasis, trying to get some.
2) He was “high as fuck”.
3) He had heard of NHS before, telling me that he follows basketball. NHS hasn’t had a basketball team in six years.
He was sprawled out in the backseat of my car, smoking his cigarette. The one word that The Southern Dandy later told me that he understood was when Tyrell remarked that we were from Wisconsin.
He lived about a mile from Taco Bell. I only wish it would have been a longer trip because then I would have been exposed to more wisdom from my drunk, “high as fuck” friend.
He asked me what my name was. I told him (Matt). “Nat?” he asked. When I reached his place of residence (a trailer), he then told me he needed me to do something for him. “I need two dollars.” When I asked why, he said, “I just need it. I need three dollars.” I had plenty of money in my wallet, but I decided to reach for the change that was right in front of me. I probably gave him around a dollar’s worth. He looked slightly disappointed, but said, “This’ll have to do.” I think that’s what he said anyways.
Tyrell remarked how I saved him and once again asked for my name. I repeated myself. He told me, “Well, this is where I stay. You know where I stay now. I’ll remember you.” No he won’t. With a handshake, he was gone. The Southern Dandy was surprised and slightly disappointed that we didn’t get robbed.
I have learned that people come into and go out of our lives so rapidly that most fail to make that much of an impression. Of course, there are those that are able to leave their mark after a very short time. People that we will always remember. Tyrell…
Today was a bit more relaxing. We drove to TJ Maxx and I got a sweet new Lebron James jacket and I also stopped at Best Buy and bought a couple new CDs. I also bought three pounds of crawfish. The Southern Dandy looked terrified to try it. He’s missing out. Delicious.
Went for a short jog. I need to start running a bit more if I decide to chase my next pipe dream. I am really out of shape. This Southern cuisine isn’t doing me any favors either.
Stopped by Brady’s Pub for some food and a few beers. I think once my laundry gets done, I’ll go back. The Southern Dandy is still there. It wouldn’t be a bad idea to go to work tomorrow with a bit of a hangover. It might help me relate to my students.
Friday, May 8, 2009
Kobe vs. Lebron, Circus Peanuts, Pushups, and Rudy
I made it to the end of another week. Today, we finished up EOC testing. I once again got paid for doing next to nothing. It hasn't been a bad gig this week.
I held my homeroom for the entire morning again. Today, we watched Rudy. Before I popped the movie in, a couple of boys (Jam Master Jay and a new student) had a heated discussion about who was better, Lebron James or Kobe Bryant. I weighed in (Lebron) and it started to get a bit out of control. After I calmed the boys down, I popped the movie in and kicked my feet up for a bit.
The Social Studies teacher had a relatively empty room, so he pulled a few students from my class. Most of them happened to be girls, so I was left with a sausage fest. Jam Master Jay instantly piped in with his high, whiny voice. He wanted to go to FLC so he could look at girls. I never let him go.
A woman who works for a group in charge of helping maintain alternative schools was visiting today. I was told to make sure my kids' clothes were appropriate and they were doing what they were supposed to be doing. The security woman gave me a warning that she was on the way. I just made sure that all my students were awake. I was introduced to this woman, and she left my room about 30 seconds later. I continued watching the movie.
Slowly, but surely, my students lost interest. Heads started falling slowly towards desks. When the woman came back unannounced about 30 minutes later, half of my class was asleep. The Boy with the Tattooed Hands' mother was snoring in the back of the class. I didn't care. When Rudy is on, I can't focus on much else.
It is amazing how illogical my students are. I wonder how they could ever enjoy any movies besides those aimed at young children. I had a boy ask me if Rudy would turn down an offer when he made it to Notre Dame. "He doesn't end up going, right?" the kid asked. Not sure how anybody could watch that movie and predict that outcome, but maybe he likes his plot twists.
I have loosened up on the "no gum chewing" rule, but Onepac and Big Kid in Camo (both taken from the English teacher's class, who was busy testing) were smacking theirs so loudly that I had to walk around with the garbage can and force the kids to spit it out. Onepac claimed that he didn't have any, so I sat back down and kept my eye on him. He continued chewing for the rest of the movie.
The movie concluded (somehow I didn't cry when he got the sack at end) and I let my students go on the computers for the 45 minutes that remained in class. I noticed Onepac was still chewing gum, so I gave him a check. "Man, I ain't chewin' no gum," he said, but he still wrote the check.
Only The Boy with the Tattooed Hands was doing his extra credit math work, and I know that was only because his mother was in. Mom decided she was going to attempt to be a disciplinarian and start telling some of my students what to do. Maybe not a good idea, because she can't even control her own son. She did later tell me that seeing the way these kids act makes a person not want to have kids. Probably true.
I spent my time between aiding Tattooed Hands and monitoring my students on their computers. I spotted Onepac chewing again, so I gave him check number two. Once again, he claimed he didn't have gum, but wrote the check anyways.
Five minutes later, when I saw the bluish green gum in Onepac's mouth, I pulled him out into the hallway to talk. I told him that he was making a very small issue into something major. He agree. "You tellin' the truth this time." He told me he would spit it out, which he did, and straighten up.
When he went into class and began running around and talking to everybody in the room, I made him move to the front of the class and begin a work packet. He didn't so much as look at it and continued talking to the person behind him and began his Godawful rapping. I gave him the boot. In the hallway, I told him he had the option of running or going to FLC, and I threatened to write him up. He told me he couldn't run, but he would do pushups. When I asked him how many he could do, he said, "About 100." I agreed to those terms.
When the horn sounded moments later, I stood in amazement as i watched this scrawny, short-armed kid struggle through pushups like nobody I had ever seen before. Every 2 or 3 pushups, he would fall to the ground and roll over in agony. I couldn't help but laugh. It took him a solid five minutes to do 50, and I cherished every second. I told him that he could do the rest after lunch.
I spent most of my lunch period in my room. I tried being social for a while by going into one of the special ed rooms and chatting with some teachers, but it was more than I could bear. The excitement today came a few minutes before the kids returned and I looked at the end of the hallway and saw a stone cold fox. A few steps further confirmed my suspicions: GOMD. I needed to retreat for a moment to come up with a line. I figured saying hello was as good as any so I started walking down there, ready to break the ice for the first time. Of course, as I got within 30 feet of her, she walked out the door. Today would have been the day, too...
I was excited for fourth period because last night I bought Teletubby's candy for winning the bet. I didn't think he would enjoy Circus Peanuts too much, but I guess that was the point. I was disappointed to learn at the beginning of fourth period that he had gotten in trouble during lunch. Apparently, Sergeant Grinch had called him big (or fat), and he responded by calling him a "monkey". He came in towards the end and I decided it was not the time to give him any candy.
We watched the second half of Remember the Titans in the afternoon classes. Suit Man decided it was a good idea to tell the entire class what happens in the movie about ten minutes before it happened. I was not pleased.
Fifth period was a bit more lively than fourth. I gave Big Kid in Camo the boot. Earlier in the day, he had grabbed my hands when I tried to steer him away from Youtube. He began his fifth period by blocking the door so none of his classmates could enter. He had an extra credit packet, which was fine, but he turned his desk around to face The Mouth and Smiley, and began talking loudly to them. He continued the behavior by taking out some dental floss and flossing right in The Mouth's face. He even came over by me to show me what he was doing. He continued by grabbing the entire container of dental floss and put it in his mouth. He then got out of his desk, walked over to Linda Blair and got right in her face.
Two checks in, I asked Big Kid to turn his desk around and finish writing the checks. He was in no hurry to do so, so I decided to kick him out. I wasn't in the mood for patience, and I knew all the teachers would appreciate if I was able to get him out of school, so I kicked him out and wrote him up. He got three days out of school suspension.
Linda Blair was not happy with me for making them watch the movie. Apparently, I had told them that they could go on the computers today. She called me a liar atleast five times during class.
When Onepac was talking, I decided to take him out in the hall and made him finish the pushups that he owed me. When he finished, I told him, "Next time, don't say you can do 100."
No Ho Man today. I was heartbroken.
Before homeroom, Teletubby came in to ask for his candy, telling me he was about to leave. When I gave it to him, he said, "You got me some nasty candy, but thank you." I was shocked. I would have bet $100 that he would say, "You wrong for this, Mr. C--------."
Computers again during homeroom. I had a list of the students that made it to school every day this week, which I announced during this time. They are rewarded with a snack before PE, which is designed to motivate students to come to school (even though I don't think we want that). I had the full names of my students on the sheet, so that's what I called. There was a motivation behind this. I often make fun of Jam Master Jay for his middle name of Carlene. He pronounces it "car lin", while I say "car leen". Somehow, The Big White Kid guessed my middle name (James) after two tries. Jam Master Jay started calling me by it, so I gave him a check, because I had asked him to stop several times.
I talked to him in the hallway a minute later, trying to explain how authority figures should be treated with respect. I also reminded him that he was only two weeks from getting out of this school and he needed to be extremely careful about what he said or did. I ended the conversation by saying, "Do you follow me, Carlene?" That comment received a pretty big smile.
During PE, I went out to find Teletubby. He didn't enjoy his candy. "Them was nasty. Gimme some jolly ranchers," he said. Mission accomplished.
I went out to watch the kids line up for the buses. Linda Blair once again told me I was wrong for what I did in class. She also showed me that she can spit about 20 feet. Pretty incredible.
I went up to Onepac, who was not happy to see me, and told him that if he was going to walk by me glaring and trying to intimidate (which he did after homeroom), he should atleast be able to do three pushups in successions. "Man, don't even talk to me," he said.
Only other news of the day:
1) The woman who came in to observe said we are one of, if not, the best alternative school that she has visited. That's hard to believe. I can't imagine what the others are like.
2) Apparently a girl was telling people she was going to kill herself. My uncle was in a meeting with her, her mother, and some other faculty. He tried to get across the point that suicide was a permanent solution to a temporary problem. Slowhand's comment: "Nah...you might wanna start...by improving yourself...Them two earrings? Take them out...Isn't there a rule against that? Huh? Huh? Huh?" I know he'd be the one to talk me down from the ledge.
3) Big Kid in Camo told me that I didn't need to write him up, and he also said that his daddy was going to come to school and "set me straight". He said this while hitting his hand. I made sure to leave the school early today.
4) Only 8.5 more days with kids.
I apologize for the sloppiness of this entry. I am about to pick up another friend from the Nawlins airport and go for another round on Bourbon Street. Wish me luck!
I held my homeroom for the entire morning again. Today, we watched Rudy. Before I popped the movie in, a couple of boys (Jam Master Jay and a new student) had a heated discussion about who was better, Lebron James or Kobe Bryant. I weighed in (Lebron) and it started to get a bit out of control. After I calmed the boys down, I popped the movie in and kicked my feet up for a bit.
The Social Studies teacher had a relatively empty room, so he pulled a few students from my class. Most of them happened to be girls, so I was left with a sausage fest. Jam Master Jay instantly piped in with his high, whiny voice. He wanted to go to FLC so he could look at girls. I never let him go.
A woman who works for a group in charge of helping maintain alternative schools was visiting today. I was told to make sure my kids' clothes were appropriate and they were doing what they were supposed to be doing. The security woman gave me a warning that she was on the way. I just made sure that all my students were awake. I was introduced to this woman, and she left my room about 30 seconds later. I continued watching the movie.
Slowly, but surely, my students lost interest. Heads started falling slowly towards desks. When the woman came back unannounced about 30 minutes later, half of my class was asleep. The Boy with the Tattooed Hands' mother was snoring in the back of the class. I didn't care. When Rudy is on, I can't focus on much else.
It is amazing how illogical my students are. I wonder how they could ever enjoy any movies besides those aimed at young children. I had a boy ask me if Rudy would turn down an offer when he made it to Notre Dame. "He doesn't end up going, right?" the kid asked. Not sure how anybody could watch that movie and predict that outcome, but maybe he likes his plot twists.
I have loosened up on the "no gum chewing" rule, but Onepac and Big Kid in Camo (both taken from the English teacher's class, who was busy testing) were smacking theirs so loudly that I had to walk around with the garbage can and force the kids to spit it out. Onepac claimed that he didn't have any, so I sat back down and kept my eye on him. He continued chewing for the rest of the movie.
The movie concluded (somehow I didn't cry when he got the sack at end) and I let my students go on the computers for the 45 minutes that remained in class. I noticed Onepac was still chewing gum, so I gave him a check. "Man, I ain't chewin' no gum," he said, but he still wrote the check.
Only The Boy with the Tattooed Hands was doing his extra credit math work, and I know that was only because his mother was in. Mom decided she was going to attempt to be a disciplinarian and start telling some of my students what to do. Maybe not a good idea, because she can't even control her own son. She did later tell me that seeing the way these kids act makes a person not want to have kids. Probably true.
I spent my time between aiding Tattooed Hands and monitoring my students on their computers. I spotted Onepac chewing again, so I gave him check number two. Once again, he claimed he didn't have gum, but wrote the check anyways.
Five minutes later, when I saw the bluish green gum in Onepac's mouth, I pulled him out into the hallway to talk. I told him that he was making a very small issue into something major. He agree. "You tellin' the truth this time." He told me he would spit it out, which he did, and straighten up.
When he went into class and began running around and talking to everybody in the room, I made him move to the front of the class and begin a work packet. He didn't so much as look at it and continued talking to the person behind him and began his Godawful rapping. I gave him the boot. In the hallway, I told him he had the option of running or going to FLC, and I threatened to write him up. He told me he couldn't run, but he would do pushups. When I asked him how many he could do, he said, "About 100." I agreed to those terms.
When the horn sounded moments later, I stood in amazement as i watched this scrawny, short-armed kid struggle through pushups like nobody I had ever seen before. Every 2 or 3 pushups, he would fall to the ground and roll over in agony. I couldn't help but laugh. It took him a solid five minutes to do 50, and I cherished every second. I told him that he could do the rest after lunch.
I spent most of my lunch period in my room. I tried being social for a while by going into one of the special ed rooms and chatting with some teachers, but it was more than I could bear. The excitement today came a few minutes before the kids returned and I looked at the end of the hallway and saw a stone cold fox. A few steps further confirmed my suspicions: GOMD. I needed to retreat for a moment to come up with a line. I figured saying hello was as good as any so I started walking down there, ready to break the ice for the first time. Of course, as I got within 30 feet of her, she walked out the door. Today would have been the day, too...
I was excited for fourth period because last night I bought Teletubby's candy for winning the bet. I didn't think he would enjoy Circus Peanuts too much, but I guess that was the point. I was disappointed to learn at the beginning of fourth period that he had gotten in trouble during lunch. Apparently, Sergeant Grinch had called him big (or fat), and he responded by calling him a "monkey". He came in towards the end and I decided it was not the time to give him any candy.
We watched the second half of Remember the Titans in the afternoon classes. Suit Man decided it was a good idea to tell the entire class what happens in the movie about ten minutes before it happened. I was not pleased.
Fifth period was a bit more lively than fourth. I gave Big Kid in Camo the boot. Earlier in the day, he had grabbed my hands when I tried to steer him away from Youtube. He began his fifth period by blocking the door so none of his classmates could enter. He had an extra credit packet, which was fine, but he turned his desk around to face The Mouth and Smiley, and began talking loudly to them. He continued the behavior by taking out some dental floss and flossing right in The Mouth's face. He even came over by me to show me what he was doing. He continued by grabbing the entire container of dental floss and put it in his mouth. He then got out of his desk, walked over to Linda Blair and got right in her face.
Two checks in, I asked Big Kid to turn his desk around and finish writing the checks. He was in no hurry to do so, so I decided to kick him out. I wasn't in the mood for patience, and I knew all the teachers would appreciate if I was able to get him out of school, so I kicked him out and wrote him up. He got three days out of school suspension.
Linda Blair was not happy with me for making them watch the movie. Apparently, I had told them that they could go on the computers today. She called me a liar atleast five times during class.
When Onepac was talking, I decided to take him out in the hall and made him finish the pushups that he owed me. When he finished, I told him, "Next time, don't say you can do 100."
No Ho Man today. I was heartbroken.
Before homeroom, Teletubby came in to ask for his candy, telling me he was about to leave. When I gave it to him, he said, "You got me some nasty candy, but thank you." I was shocked. I would have bet $100 that he would say, "You wrong for this, Mr. C--------."
Computers again during homeroom. I had a list of the students that made it to school every day this week, which I announced during this time. They are rewarded with a snack before PE, which is designed to motivate students to come to school (even though I don't think we want that). I had the full names of my students on the sheet, so that's what I called. There was a motivation behind this. I often make fun of Jam Master Jay for his middle name of Carlene. He pronounces it "car lin", while I say "car leen". Somehow, The Big White Kid guessed my middle name (James) after two tries. Jam Master Jay started calling me by it, so I gave him a check, because I had asked him to stop several times.
I talked to him in the hallway a minute later, trying to explain how authority figures should be treated with respect. I also reminded him that he was only two weeks from getting out of this school and he needed to be extremely careful about what he said or did. I ended the conversation by saying, "Do you follow me, Carlene?" That comment received a pretty big smile.
During PE, I went out to find Teletubby. He didn't enjoy his candy. "Them was nasty. Gimme some jolly ranchers," he said. Mission accomplished.
I went out to watch the kids line up for the buses. Linda Blair once again told me I was wrong for what I did in class. She also showed me that she can spit about 20 feet. Pretty incredible.
I went up to Onepac, who was not happy to see me, and told him that if he was going to walk by me glaring and trying to intimidate (which he did after homeroom), he should atleast be able to do three pushups in successions. "Man, don't even talk to me," he said.
Only other news of the day:
1) The woman who came in to observe said we are one of, if not, the best alternative school that she has visited. That's hard to believe. I can't imagine what the others are like.
2) Apparently a girl was telling people she was going to kill herself. My uncle was in a meeting with her, her mother, and some other faculty. He tried to get across the point that suicide was a permanent solution to a temporary problem. Slowhand's comment: "Nah...you might wanna start...by improving yourself...Them two earrings? Take them out...Isn't there a rule against that? Huh? Huh? Huh?" I know he'd be the one to talk me down from the ledge.
3) Big Kid in Camo told me that I didn't need to write him up, and he also said that his daddy was going to come to school and "set me straight". He said this while hitting his hand. I made sure to leave the school early today.
4) Only 8.5 more days with kids.
I apologize for the sloppiness of this entry. I am about to pick up another friend from the Nawlins airport and go for another round on Bourbon Street. Wish me luck!
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Movie Day
Today was a really easy day. I did almost no teaching, watched a movie all day, and the two most annoying teachers at the school were both absent. Doesn’t get much better than that.
I was informed this morning that I wouldn’t be doing any testing. The English teacher took care of the makeups for the day, and I was asked to hold my homeroom for the entire three hours before lunch. This meant that I would be spending my morning with the likes of Jam Master Jay, Psycho T, Slim, Lady Cheaterly, The Boy with the Tattooed Hands, Hand Cramps, Big White Kid, The Great Black Hope, Tony Montana, Check Slapper, and a slew of others. I really have come up with a lot of nicknames.
The Social Studies teacher suggested that I show a movie so I didn’t have to monitor what websites the kids were going on, which is generally a problem. The Science teacher let me borrow a handful. I gave the kids the option between Remember the Titans, Rudy, and Dead Poet’s Society. As expected, an overwhelming majority wanted to watch Remember the Titans.
The only real issue I had with my morning was trying to get the damned VCR player to work. I later found out that the custodian that had connected it hadn’t put a plug all the way in to the TV (that’s right, I am diffusing responsibility). It probably took 20-25 minutes from the time that my students had walked through the door until we started the movie.
The kids seemed pretty engaged with the film. I had to redirect Psycho T, Slim, and Lady Cheaterly a few times, but other than that, there really weren’t any issues. Psycho T once told me that she was afraid to watch the movie because it was making her “angry and racist”. She also screamed out loud when Gary Bertier (white linebacker) got in a car accident towards the end of the movie.
The Boy with the Tattooed Hands was once again being shadowed by his mother. He clearly had seen the movie several times as he was quoting much of it quietly in his desk. There was a point when he began to curse, before looking at his mother and catching himself. After he said, “Motherfuh,” he looked over to me and I just stared at him for a minute before shifting my eyes back to the screen. I guarantee that if his mom wasn’t there, the “ck” would have been. I am not sure if she is required to shadow him for the rest of the year, but it would be nice.
The movie got done around 10:30, which meant I had to hold the students for 30 more minutes before lunch. I told them that they could go on the computers. I also wrote a possible extra credit assignment on the board, which dealt with writing a one page paper about a career which uses mathematics. I told them I had more worksheet packets as well. A few of the students do have a legitimate chance of getting out of here if they raise their grades a bit. I want to help them, but I am not going to just boost everybody up. There needs to be some sort of effort shown.
Psycho T, who had impressed me so much the day before, decided to spend her time looking at shoes on the internet. I repeated myself several times, saying, “This is a great opportunity for any of you that are worried about improving your grade in my class to get some extra credit.” Sadly, The Great Black Hope was the only person to really take advantage of the opportunity. She has a 96% in my class, so I don’t think she needs it too badly. The Boy with the Tattooed Hands scribbled a few answers down at his mother’s request, but he spent most of his time playing games on the computer. As I once said, “You can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make it drink, and you can lead a man to the truth, but you can’t make him think.”
Even though I knew I couldn’t finish a movie in a single class period, I decided to keep the cruise control on for the rest of the day. Allowing students to go on the computers can become a lot of work because the kids are constantly trying to get on websites they aren’t supposed to be on. Instead, I was able to kick my feet back a bit and watch with them. Granted, it isn’t quite as good the second time through for the day. It also doesn’t help that I’ve seen that movie atleast ten times.
Suit Man was a bit disappointed that I wouldn’t let him go on the computer, but he cheered up and attempted to explain the theme of the movie (bringing people of different races together). Teletubby appeared to be upset at the beginning of the movie, claiming, “They is all ignorant. I will set them straight.” He also didn’t understand why people were upset when the white coach lost his job. Later, when Sunshine (quarterback) kissed Gary Bertier (linebacker), he said, “Oh, no. He don’t like him.” I wonder how much Teletubby knows about football. It is certainly less than he knows about kissing boys.
Teletubby asked about his candy several times and also asked me if I liked his orange and turquoise striped socks. After I called them “fabulous”, he just smiled and said, “Yessss, I know!” He lost interest in the movie quickly and began thumbing through some computer-printed pictures. When I called him over to see what they were, I noticed that he was looking at dozens of pictures of painted nails. I just said, “Okay,” and let him return to his desk. I didn’t even want to know anything further beyond what I had already seen.
I am happy to report that for the first time since he has been here, Sleeping Beauty stayed awake for the entire class period. He must like that movie.
The movie philosophy didn’t end up working as much during fifth period. While lining the kids up outside my door, Linda Blair immediately began asking about going on the computers. When she discovered we would be watching a movie instead, she was none too happy. I didn’t acknowledge her cries of “why”. Instead, I was focusing on Ho Man, who was at the front of the line. It looked like there was a bit of water under his eye. I asked him what he was crying about. He responded, “I just so happy to see you.” Unfortunately, I was the only teacher in the entire school happy to see him.
Ho Man was a bit of a surprise today because I didn’t think he’d be there. His step-sister spent much of her time in the office with her mother, my uncle, and Slowhand. Enter the quote of the day. Let me preface it by reminding you that Ho Man’s sister had gotten in a fight yesterday. Furthermore, the fight had nothing to do with a boy. Slowhand, prepared to give advice, said the following:
“Nah…you gon’ be a woman…soon…and you gon’ find yoself a man…nah…maybe another woman gonna come to yo house…tryin’ to take yo man…and that should tell you…that yo man…probably ain’t worth fightin’ over. What you think ‘bout that?”
Apparently, nobody thought much, because it was met with silence. I wish I could have been there. My uncle told me that he had to bite his lip.
Very few students paid any attention to the movie. The Mouth was busy chatting away in the back of the room, albeit excitedly because she wanted to see “Denzel’s sexy self”. She did say that she missed me (she had been absent for a couple of days) and told me she would bring me the ultrasound she took yesterday. Apparently, The Rapist is going to jail. The Mouth told me that he was charged with something and she was asked to testify against him. I don’t even want to know. She also made a statement which I questioned (can’t remember what it was), and she informed me that she would never lie to me. She then added that she’d lie to three of the four other high school teachers because she “hates them”. Atleast somebody loves me.
The Mouth did lose it a bit after Onepac called her a “piece of shit”. She whipped a marker at his head. I should have kicked them both out, but I just gave them checks, which they graciously accepted. The Mouth continued to talk, but wasn’t much of a distraction, while Onepac moved up by Ho Man and focused on the movie.
Jamaican Mon was in the back of the room with Onepac’s sister, chatting away. I have lost patience with him and asked him to move. He glared at me for a solid five seconds before getting out of his seat. He continued to complain, telling me that I “was trippin’.” I handed him a check, which he continued to complain about. “I didn’t do anything.”
Onepac’s sister was also a bit of a problem. I moved her to the front of the room, which ended up being a bad move, because she was close to Jamaican Mon again and Skinny Kid came in a bit late and sat down two seats behind her (he tried to make it one, but I wouldn’t let him). When they continued talking through the movie, I gave all three checks. Skinny Kid asked if he could talk about it later, while Jamaican Mon repeated himself, saying, “I didn’t do anything.” I responded by saying, “You never do.” After he told me to shut up, I told him to write it for ten. I didn’t throw him out, but he must have gotten kicked out of his homeroom, because he ended up in FLC by the end of the day.
Linda Blair and TB spent their time playing hangman with one another. I sense a little romance brewing, although TB allegedly has a girlfriend and Linda Blair’s boyfriend is in jail. TB later denied any relationship with Linda Blair. We’ll see what the future holds.
Ho Man was the only student in that class who did what he was supposed to do. He originally wanted to watch Rudy until he saw that I had another choice. He has also seen the movie several times and incorrectly quoted some favorite phrases. He burst out into “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough” on cue, clenching his fist to form a faux microphone and swaying his head from side to side. Towards the end of class, I handed him a note saying that I’d bring him a candy bar tomorrow because he followed directions and was quiet during the movie. The note also thanked him for doing what he was supposed to do. After reading it, which took him probably two minutes, he folded it up and put it in his wallet before getting back to the movie.
I let my homeroom go on the computers, but I also encouraged them to work on the extra credit opportunities that I provided. Several students wrote down the instructions for the short report, but they didn’t do anything about it. I spent my time going over parts of the worksheets with The Boy with the Tattooed Hands and The Great Black Hope.
It is a bit frustrating because I know that most of my students won’t do anything about their grades. They think that they can put it off and put it off, but they will eventually run out of time. I told them I needed everything handed in by next Friday. Honestly, I have always been a procrastinator. Still am. But I am also really good at gauging what I need to get done and how long it will take me. These kids have no clue, and they will end up getting burned. I have said to students several times, “Remember this moment. Look back on this moment when you don’t get what you want, when you don’t pass, and remember this choice that you made.”
All in all, it was an incredibly boring day. I made money for showing the same movie the entire time. Not difficult. It did make me look at a few things that I never thought of before, though. I didn’t feel like watching Remember the Titans. I don’t think it is a bad movie, but it is extremely clichéd and I’ve seen it too many times. However, the decision in my classes was almost unanimous that it be the movie we watch. I predicted it, and I can understand why.
I think I have an eclectic taste in films. However, almost all of the movies I watch are predominantly white. They star mostly white actors with white directors and white storylines. I watch movies that relate to my life and my struggles. It is completely understandable that my students look for the same things (ability to connect to the characters) in movies that I do. 95% of Hollywood is trying to cater to a white audience. It must be frustrating for these kids to go to a movie theater and not feel like they have many (or any) choices as far as watching movies that relate to their lives’. It is no wonder that they cheered a little bit louder for the black characters at the beginning of the movie.
Tomorrow will probably be much the same. I think that after tomorrow, the numbers will plummet. Technically, students won’t need to come to school again after that to avoid truancy court (this is why many of them come to school in the first place). It might be more tears tomorrow for Ho Man.
I was informed this morning that I wouldn’t be doing any testing. The English teacher took care of the makeups for the day, and I was asked to hold my homeroom for the entire three hours before lunch. This meant that I would be spending my morning with the likes of Jam Master Jay, Psycho T, Slim, Lady Cheaterly, The Boy with the Tattooed Hands, Hand Cramps, Big White Kid, The Great Black Hope, Tony Montana, Check Slapper, and a slew of others. I really have come up with a lot of nicknames.
The Social Studies teacher suggested that I show a movie so I didn’t have to monitor what websites the kids were going on, which is generally a problem. The Science teacher let me borrow a handful. I gave the kids the option between Remember the Titans, Rudy, and Dead Poet’s Society. As expected, an overwhelming majority wanted to watch Remember the Titans.
The only real issue I had with my morning was trying to get the damned VCR player to work. I later found out that the custodian that had connected it hadn’t put a plug all the way in to the TV (that’s right, I am diffusing responsibility). It probably took 20-25 minutes from the time that my students had walked through the door until we started the movie.
The kids seemed pretty engaged with the film. I had to redirect Psycho T, Slim, and Lady Cheaterly a few times, but other than that, there really weren’t any issues. Psycho T once told me that she was afraid to watch the movie because it was making her “angry and racist”. She also screamed out loud when Gary Bertier (white linebacker) got in a car accident towards the end of the movie.
The Boy with the Tattooed Hands was once again being shadowed by his mother. He clearly had seen the movie several times as he was quoting much of it quietly in his desk. There was a point when he began to curse, before looking at his mother and catching himself. After he said, “Motherfuh,” he looked over to me and I just stared at him for a minute before shifting my eyes back to the screen. I guarantee that if his mom wasn’t there, the “ck” would have been. I am not sure if she is required to shadow him for the rest of the year, but it would be nice.
The movie got done around 10:30, which meant I had to hold the students for 30 more minutes before lunch. I told them that they could go on the computers. I also wrote a possible extra credit assignment on the board, which dealt with writing a one page paper about a career which uses mathematics. I told them I had more worksheet packets as well. A few of the students do have a legitimate chance of getting out of here if they raise their grades a bit. I want to help them, but I am not going to just boost everybody up. There needs to be some sort of effort shown.
Psycho T, who had impressed me so much the day before, decided to spend her time looking at shoes on the internet. I repeated myself several times, saying, “This is a great opportunity for any of you that are worried about improving your grade in my class to get some extra credit.” Sadly, The Great Black Hope was the only person to really take advantage of the opportunity. She has a 96% in my class, so I don’t think she needs it too badly. The Boy with the Tattooed Hands scribbled a few answers down at his mother’s request, but he spent most of his time playing games on the computer. As I once said, “You can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make it drink, and you can lead a man to the truth, but you can’t make him think.”
Even though I knew I couldn’t finish a movie in a single class period, I decided to keep the cruise control on for the rest of the day. Allowing students to go on the computers can become a lot of work because the kids are constantly trying to get on websites they aren’t supposed to be on. Instead, I was able to kick my feet back a bit and watch with them. Granted, it isn’t quite as good the second time through for the day. It also doesn’t help that I’ve seen that movie atleast ten times.
Suit Man was a bit disappointed that I wouldn’t let him go on the computer, but he cheered up and attempted to explain the theme of the movie (bringing people of different races together). Teletubby appeared to be upset at the beginning of the movie, claiming, “They is all ignorant. I will set them straight.” He also didn’t understand why people were upset when the white coach lost his job. Later, when Sunshine (quarterback) kissed Gary Bertier (linebacker), he said, “Oh, no. He don’t like him.” I wonder how much Teletubby knows about football. It is certainly less than he knows about kissing boys.
Teletubby asked about his candy several times and also asked me if I liked his orange and turquoise striped socks. After I called them “fabulous”, he just smiled and said, “Yessss, I know!” He lost interest in the movie quickly and began thumbing through some computer-printed pictures. When I called him over to see what they were, I noticed that he was looking at dozens of pictures of painted nails. I just said, “Okay,” and let him return to his desk. I didn’t even want to know anything further beyond what I had already seen.
I am happy to report that for the first time since he has been here, Sleeping Beauty stayed awake for the entire class period. He must like that movie.
The movie philosophy didn’t end up working as much during fifth period. While lining the kids up outside my door, Linda Blair immediately began asking about going on the computers. When she discovered we would be watching a movie instead, she was none too happy. I didn’t acknowledge her cries of “why”. Instead, I was focusing on Ho Man, who was at the front of the line. It looked like there was a bit of water under his eye. I asked him what he was crying about. He responded, “I just so happy to see you.” Unfortunately, I was the only teacher in the entire school happy to see him.
Ho Man was a bit of a surprise today because I didn’t think he’d be there. His step-sister spent much of her time in the office with her mother, my uncle, and Slowhand. Enter the quote of the day. Let me preface it by reminding you that Ho Man’s sister had gotten in a fight yesterday. Furthermore, the fight had nothing to do with a boy. Slowhand, prepared to give advice, said the following:
“Nah…you gon’ be a woman…soon…and you gon’ find yoself a man…nah…maybe another woman gonna come to yo house…tryin’ to take yo man…and that should tell you…that yo man…probably ain’t worth fightin’ over. What you think ‘bout that?”
Apparently, nobody thought much, because it was met with silence. I wish I could have been there. My uncle told me that he had to bite his lip.
Very few students paid any attention to the movie. The Mouth was busy chatting away in the back of the room, albeit excitedly because she wanted to see “Denzel’s sexy self”. She did say that she missed me (she had been absent for a couple of days) and told me she would bring me the ultrasound she took yesterday. Apparently, The Rapist is going to jail. The Mouth told me that he was charged with something and she was asked to testify against him. I don’t even want to know. She also made a statement which I questioned (can’t remember what it was), and she informed me that she would never lie to me. She then added that she’d lie to three of the four other high school teachers because she “hates them”. Atleast somebody loves me.
The Mouth did lose it a bit after Onepac called her a “piece of shit”. She whipped a marker at his head. I should have kicked them both out, but I just gave them checks, which they graciously accepted. The Mouth continued to talk, but wasn’t much of a distraction, while Onepac moved up by Ho Man and focused on the movie.
Jamaican Mon was in the back of the room with Onepac’s sister, chatting away. I have lost patience with him and asked him to move. He glared at me for a solid five seconds before getting out of his seat. He continued to complain, telling me that I “was trippin’.” I handed him a check, which he continued to complain about. “I didn’t do anything.”
Onepac’s sister was also a bit of a problem. I moved her to the front of the room, which ended up being a bad move, because she was close to Jamaican Mon again and Skinny Kid came in a bit late and sat down two seats behind her (he tried to make it one, but I wouldn’t let him). When they continued talking through the movie, I gave all three checks. Skinny Kid asked if he could talk about it later, while Jamaican Mon repeated himself, saying, “I didn’t do anything.” I responded by saying, “You never do.” After he told me to shut up, I told him to write it for ten. I didn’t throw him out, but he must have gotten kicked out of his homeroom, because he ended up in FLC by the end of the day.
Linda Blair and TB spent their time playing hangman with one another. I sense a little romance brewing, although TB allegedly has a girlfriend and Linda Blair’s boyfriend is in jail. TB later denied any relationship with Linda Blair. We’ll see what the future holds.
Ho Man was the only student in that class who did what he was supposed to do. He originally wanted to watch Rudy until he saw that I had another choice. He has also seen the movie several times and incorrectly quoted some favorite phrases. He burst out into “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough” on cue, clenching his fist to form a faux microphone and swaying his head from side to side. Towards the end of class, I handed him a note saying that I’d bring him a candy bar tomorrow because he followed directions and was quiet during the movie. The note also thanked him for doing what he was supposed to do. After reading it, which took him probably two minutes, he folded it up and put it in his wallet before getting back to the movie.
I let my homeroom go on the computers, but I also encouraged them to work on the extra credit opportunities that I provided. Several students wrote down the instructions for the short report, but they didn’t do anything about it. I spent my time going over parts of the worksheets with The Boy with the Tattooed Hands and The Great Black Hope.
It is a bit frustrating because I know that most of my students won’t do anything about their grades. They think that they can put it off and put it off, but they will eventually run out of time. I told them I needed everything handed in by next Friday. Honestly, I have always been a procrastinator. Still am. But I am also really good at gauging what I need to get done and how long it will take me. These kids have no clue, and they will end up getting burned. I have said to students several times, “Remember this moment. Look back on this moment when you don’t get what you want, when you don’t pass, and remember this choice that you made.”
All in all, it was an incredibly boring day. I made money for showing the same movie the entire time. Not difficult. It did make me look at a few things that I never thought of before, though. I didn’t feel like watching Remember the Titans. I don’t think it is a bad movie, but it is extremely clichéd and I’ve seen it too many times. However, the decision in my classes was almost unanimous that it be the movie we watch. I predicted it, and I can understand why.
I think I have an eclectic taste in films. However, almost all of the movies I watch are predominantly white. They star mostly white actors with white directors and white storylines. I watch movies that relate to my life and my struggles. It is completely understandable that my students look for the same things (ability to connect to the characters) in movies that I do. 95% of Hollywood is trying to cater to a white audience. It must be frustrating for these kids to go to a movie theater and not feel like they have many (or any) choices as far as watching movies that relate to their lives’. It is no wonder that they cheered a little bit louder for the black characters at the beginning of the movie.
Tomorrow will probably be much the same. I think that after tomorrow, the numbers will plummet. Technically, students won’t need to come to school again after that to avoid truancy court (this is why many of them come to school in the first place). It might be more tears tomorrow for Ho Man.
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