Week 36: May 18-22

090522: Day 162
Jeff and I drove to Pittsburgh last night. I called in “sick.” We took today to meet with our photographer (two-plus hours to plan family portraits, cuz my family’s a little complicated), meet with the judge, and apply for a marriage license! We also had a lovely lunch en plein air in Shadyside. Tuna salad is particularly tasty with pickled jalapenos. Then we had dinner on the patio at the Sewickley Cafe with my dad and I embarrassed him a little by repeating the things my students routinely say in the classroom. I am ready to leave New York for good.

090521: Day 161
Magical realism must be working because GL—king of the depressives—entered class today, came specifically to the back of the classroom to talk to me and showed me the narrative he had started writing!

Also, I officially gave up on seventh period today. I told AP A that they were unteachable (true), and she suggested showing them Pixar movies. Though it tees me off that these kids can treat me like shit everyday and be rewarded by watching movies, AP A said it wasn’t about learning anymore so much as surviving. I’m still coming to terms with her being right.

The pieces have finally come together as regards the department that cried wolf story and the mysterious meeting that AP P requested of Ms. Po (see Day 152). AP P met with Ms. Po—last week, probably—to gently scold her for downplaying JR’s sexual talk in her class. Ms. Po included JR’s name in the email that started everything simply to introduce the much dirtier comments made by SC and MN in response to JR’s asking if they “eat pussy.” During a conversation with JR’s mom, Ms. Po said that while JR was inappropriate, she wasn’t concerned about it because it’s not a pattern with him and he’s not normally a problem. AP P made the “bending over the backwards” comment to Ms. Po, too, and I assume she was embarrassed to have called a parent unnecessarily.

Fast forward to today, when Ms. Po has a copy of a letter that the administration plans on putting in her file because she made a “false accusation” against a student and if she makes another false accusation, she is in danger of being terminated. (For those of you uninitiated in the ways of the DOE, administration puts letters in your permanent file when you do something good or something bad. Usually it’s something bad, like taking too many absences or being “insubordinate” for forgetting to go to a meeting and reporting to hall duty instead—ask Ms. L about that one.) The administration is saying Ms. Po made a “false accusation” when she downplayed JR’s one isolated sexual comment. I cannot connect the dots between what Ms. Po said and “false accusation” logically, so I’m just laying out the facts of the situation here. Hopefully you can connect your own dots.

Now if any of us—not just Ms. Po—starts making noise about how no one has helped us all motherfucking year, the administration can simply point to the letter in Ms. Po’s file and show how they had a teacher making false accusations. How could they do anything when they knew they had a liar? The way I see it, Ms. L and I could end up with similar letters in our file pretty easily. They don’t seem to be based on much other than covering up a prolonged mismanagement of a hostile and potentially dangerous situation. What’s to stop anyone from giving me one of those letters? Not much. The bottom line here is that we have all been unofficially—or officially—silenced.

Mr. P was pleasantly amused that I was surprised—and that Ms. Po was surprised—by the administration’s nefarious plot to fuck Ms. Po up the ass. It’s not that I’m surprised that this happened; my cynical, tough-skinned hide that spends eight hours a day in this school knows this shit happens all the time. But the part of me that is still human is outraged. What kind of place is this that it destroys its own staff to keep a clean front?

According to Mr. P I have until around my fifth or sixth year for this to happen to me. Fortunately, I’m not planning on staying that long.

090520: Day 160
This week, we are working on magical realism. I love this assignment. I cannot take credit for the idea, as I stole it from two of my grad school classmates. Here’s the idea: have kids write a narrative about something in their own lives. Introduce them to magical realism by providing a sample text—in this case, “Flying” by Stephen Dixon (an old professor) and a clip from “Like Water for Chocolate.” Instruct students to rewrite their narrative to include just a couple “magical” details. So far, the kids have been doing awesome. They enjoyed “Like Water for Chocolate,” which isn’t surprising because I picked a clip wherein dozens of people vomit by the side of the river, and are excited to start magicking up their narratives.

090519: Day 159
I had four students removed from fourth period today: DS, GA, JCr and JC. I’m telling you: I called home for DS last week—because he never has a writing utensil—and since that moment he has been an unbearable asshole. He’s started up with the trashy sex-talk all the other boys enjoy so much. Some highlights from my dean’s report:

DS came to class late and loudly demanded that I write him a pass to go to Ms. L’s room because he doesn’t like me right now. I told him no because he has work to do in my class if he wants to pass it come June. He continued to demand I write him a pass and then became involved in the constant talking and laughing. He is one of four students in this class who often call out FR’s refrain (spelled phonetically): “ALL-lo FO-kay.” DS’s persistent use of this phrase today made it impossible for me to finish a sentence.

At one point, JC bragged about insulting Ms. Po: “Remember what I said about her? That she has a dirty clit? . . .that was funny.” JC brought this up in response to FR saying something about “smells like Ms. Po.”

GA laughed very loudly and inappropriately at whatever other students said or did. His laughter also seems timed to come at the instant I am about to attempt to teach again. He had a brief encounter with DC, again, in which the two of them threatened each other. GA got out of his seat to threaten DC. He also called out “lesbo” at least two times if not more.

All four kids are in the SAVE room for the rest of the week. Though my (ever-growing) vindictive side wishes they were suspended, the SAVE room at least gets them out of my hair for a moment.

On a related note, remember when AP P was going to set up meetings with parents, assistant principals a police officer and all our students who are sexually over the line all the time ? (See Day 142) Apparently those meetings have happened, but one of the teachers in the special ed department said in the middle of one of the meetings “oh, that didn’t really happen.” I can’t figure out exactly what couldn’t have happened or who would have taken something back, as I’ve read all the emails and everything we’ve said is true. So now AP P is furious with our department because she “bent over backwards to help” and according ot AP A we are the department that cried wolf. Now no one is going to help us or believe us or anything.

Of course, I had this conversation with AP A in the two minutes before the end of second period, so I’m pretty fuzzy on all of the details. Though it’s pretty clear that the administration is going to continue to do nothing while we eat shit.

090518: Day 158
When I unveiled the second writing topic in the Writing Workshop unit, seventh period accused me of trying to make them fail. They claim it is too much work for ninth-graders—having to write one five-paragraph narrative per week. Furthermore, RQ was upset that he did not win Student of the Month for Best Effort in seventh period. In point of fact, there was no student of the month in either fifth or seventh period. There was not effort in either class; exactly one student in fifth and one student in seventh passed the fifth marking period, each with a 65% D. RQ thought that just because he was the kid who managed to pass, he should win a prize. In my book, best effort does not mean doing the bare minimum of work and giving the teacher attitude about copying the notes or writing fucking five paragraphs over the course of a week.

This evening was my last ever class at Mercy. I have finished my second master’s degree. Though I am sad I will never have Saul Brodsky again, I will not miss the industrial park or the repetitive curriculum.

Week 35: May 11-15

090515: Day 157
Fifth period has been pretty well neutralized by the presence of Para B. AP A sent him into the room a couple months ago—around the time they all made me freak out for the jillionth time. Fourth period, however, remains a zoo. When I say zoo, I mean it pretty literally: the kids make animalistic sexual noises and throw shit at each other. OK, maybe not actual shit, but paper balls and gum—I’ve picked gum out of the hair of two kids in that period. From my dean’s report:

I have a group of boys in my fourth period who are getting progressively nastier to other students and more disruptive in the classroom. These boys are GA, FR, DS and LF.

GA, DS and FR have been picking on LJS for the past week or more about the infection he seems to have in his earlobe. They call him “infection” and loudly tell him that his earlobe is nasty or disgusting. LJS seems to be ignoring them well enough, but the insults and jeers are becoming ever more frequent and disruptive. To my memory, LF does not participate directly in the insults, but he laughs very loudly at all of them.

These four young men also have developed a new habit of making sexual noises when I turn my back. I have variously seen most of them in the act, and I recognize their voices. They moan and groan loudly and then stop when I turn back around. GA went so far as to make a slapping noise and then say, “Yeah, take that shit.” FR is particularly fond of saying a phrase in Spanish, which I can only spell phonetically as I don’t know Spanish—ALL-lo FO-kay—which sounds very obviously like “I love fucking.” He defends himself by saying it’s a rap and he’s just singing. But he knows full well what it sounds like in English and that when he sings it very loudly throughout class it is very disruptive. LF today claimed he was not making the sexual noises, he was only singing to drown out the sexual noises. LR’s singing was also very loud and disruptive.

Also today in class there was a lengthy exchange between GA and DC. GA was making loud noises—laughing and making noises like he was having very pleasant sex (see above)—and DC told him to shut up. GA then said, “I’ll slap the shit out of you.” I’m pretty sure DC threatened to slap him back. Then GA continued, “I’ll spit on your face, pussy. . . . Beat your little ass up.” DS then chimed in by saying, “Pussy ass nigger” to DC. GA, when he saw me writing things down, once again told me to write down whatever I want because he will still do whatever he wants. DC had an issue with FR today, too. I didn’t see it, but I saw FR walking away from DC and he said DC hit him. I have seen FR hit many students in the classroom up the side of the head. I have also seen DC lash out so I cannot say where this began or even if someone really hit someone else. FR does not often tell the truth about what he has just done.

Students in this period regularly ask me to kick these students out or say they cannot concentrate because of their behavior. I have made phone calls for all these students before—three of them this week alone. In fact, I just called home for DS on Wednesday and after that his behavior became worse. I am particularly concerned about LJS and DC. LJS has told me he has an anger management issue, as has DC. And they are outnumbered and frustrated as it is.

thanks for your attention to this matter.
Ms. G

That was one period, by the way. And pretty much every day is like this.

090514: Day 156
Yesterday I called home for FR—because I hate him. Today he didn’t make it into school until the middle of fourth period; he was still wearing his pajama pants. The day was going OK until the very moment he arrived. Almost from the second he walked through the door, the assholes in the room went nuts. Anyway, I talked to his mom last night and the first thing she said to me was, “I know Frankie doesn’t do anything in school.” So, there you go. I’ve spoken to her before, and this was by far the best conversation we’ve had. She doesn’t speak fluent English, but I could have been fooled last night. At the end of the conversation she said she wanted to talk to someone in Spanish about FR. I told her I would arrange it at school the next day. So, Ms. EV and I sat down with the house’s notes about FR’s assholery during eighth period, and she left a message in Spanish. We’ll see how that plays out, considering she made her request about eight months too late.

090513: Day 155
It is sadistic that we still have a month of classes left. My entire fifth period has given up on class. Today only one students was on time to class. The Do Now was to pick up a copy of one of the paintings we’re writing about. After the first ten minutes of class, no one had copied the aim and no one had picked up their painting. How am I supposed to teach when so many kids have absolutely given up? DG, DK and SP slept through the entire class. I tried to wake them up a couple times and then I stopped. As they wandered out of the room with sleep in their eyes I informed them I wasn’t going to keep waking them up and telling them to work. If they chose to sleep through class and do nothing, they would simply fail. I am worth more than rapping on kids’ desks and telling them to get to work. They want to fail? Fuck them.

During sixth period, JRe came to see me. He failed last marking period and he was in my room to ask me to change his grade. Turns out he can only fail one class and stay on the baseball team. He failed two. He wanted me to change his grade and then he would turn in the work he was missing. I said no. If he turned in the work he was missing, then I would change his grade. Mind you, JRe misses on average one day a week and comes two to five minutes late on the days he does come. He sits in my lawn chair and talks endlessly to NH, despite my asking both of them repeatedly to stop as I feel disrespected by their actions. And this kid wants a favor from me?

Luckily for JRe, Ms. L came into the room just after this happened. She proposed that I write a letter to his coach saying I would change his grade once I got the work he owes me. Ms. L had a sit down with his coach at some point in the recent past because it turns out JRe is quite talented. Baseball could be his ticket out of the Bronx. A couple months ago I might have cared a little more about this. But now that so few of my students care about school anymore I’m finding it really hard to care about them. I hope JRe makes it out of the Bronx. I hope more he grows the fuck up and starts doing what he’s supposed to.

My job is not to babysit. It is not to clean up messes. It is not to do things for students that they could do themselves. Everyday I wake up hoping I will have a chance to do my job, a chance to teach a lesson and guide students to making discoveries. Everyday, instead, I come in, eat students’ shit and go home defeated. At least I don’t feel guilty anymore about letting them hang themselves.

090512: Day 154
I left two candy bars in one of my desk drawers on Friday. These candy bars belonged to JM, winner of the Poetry Slam in fifth period. I came in today and they were stolen from my desk. I pretty much expected this. I know the kids steal from me—probably everyday. I also suspect someone likes to move things around my desk drawers to drive me crazy. Obviously, the plan is working. I thought someone stole the lock from my teacher closet, then I found it at the bottom of the file drawer in my desk. I was looking for my lip gloss in the pen drawer of my desk and couldn’t find it, then I found it in the right-hand scrap paper drawer. I swear one of them is doing it to fuck with me. I blame fourth period: my money’s on FR because he’s always lingering a little too close to my desk and he’s an asshole.

I was thinking about the decorations for my wedding in July. We’re going to have wild flowers and framed pictures of our friends and families all over the tables. Then I had this insidious little fear that I couldn’t take any good pictures because someone would steal them from me. I’m afraid my closest friends and family are going to steal framed photographs from my wedding.

On a lighter note, I made cakes for the winning teams in the Poetry Slam: six-inch chocolate layer cakes with vanilla bean buttercream. First and third periods only. Needless to say, fourth, fifth and seventh periods do not deserve cakes. JK ate his entire share of the cake—a full quarter—all by himself. He was the only student who didn’t share. Then he came back to find me to tell me he dropped his cake in the hallway. I had to go clean it up for him. Because my kids don’t even know how to ask for a paper towel to pick up their own mess. At least he wanted to clean it up, I guess.

090511: Day 153
I took the day off. Around one o’clock on Sunday I realized I could not work anymore. I had a big paper and presentation due for one of my grad classes and a debate to prepare for in the other. I had to plan a new unit—Writing Workshop!—and grade a bunch of papers. I feel perilously close to a “major depressive episode.” I managed to get my work done today. But in the middle of reading about social justice and social studies I found myself crying in my lawn chair in the sun. I take comfort in the fact that most of desperation is driven by my immediate situation as a teacher in a failing school. How much longer my psyche can take that situational stress is a lingering question mark.

_____________

Update: new film pictures on Day 144 and Day 149

Week 34: May 4-8

090508: Day 152
First thing this morning I opened my email and found a missive from Ms. L with the subject line “bullying and abortion.” An attention-getter, to say the least. Long story short, CG and BJ—what a lovely couple—have been manipulating NR and AB into believing each wants to fight the other in order to engineer a girl fight. If you recall, BJ hit NR over the head with a recycling bin just a few weeks ago (see Day 137) and this week marked his return from the off-site suspension school. Anyway, all the students were out of classes for most of the day so there could be a “mediation” of their problems. Ms. L happened upon AB and NR at some point during the day and pulled them both into her room to talk the problem out.

Ms. L had been told their dispute had been mediated before. I’m not sure how you define mediation, but I’m pretty certain it should involve sitting both people down together. However, the girls said it was the first time they had sat down with each other to discuss the problems they had—problems that have been going on for a couple months. Our school’s “mediation” is a faculty member sitting each student down separately and threatening suspension. Huh. Anyway, as the story emerged from this genuine mediation, Ms. L helped the girls to see they were being played by CG and BJ. They were angry and vowed to stick up for each other from then on. It will be interesting to see how that plays out on Monday, when BJ and CG find their cruel entertainment spoiled and NR and AB now firm allies.

Ms. Po was not here today. I feel icky about it. As bad as I am, she is worse. I’m not sure if I hope she comes back or if I hope she doesn’t. The situation is certainly coming to a head. Who knows what happened to the meeting she was supposed to have with AP P this morning.

090507: Day 151
As I sat in my room this afternoon, talking to my friend Sally and making wedding plans, I watched the sky turn darker and to that sick shade of green that tells you a serious downpour is on its way. I swear it waited for 2:55 to burst forth. By the time I made it to my car, the sky was booming and my skirt was soaked through. I wore boots for just this occasion—didn’t want to ruin my beautiful new blue pumps (see above). Fuck me, though, my bag got so wet that the shoes got damaged inside it. Then, because I’m so exhausted I can’t take care of myself, it didn’t occur to me to take my shoes out of my wet bag until hours after I got home. I need to go to a leather repair shop. I’m thinking Eddie’s in Grand Central, but who knows when I’ll have time.

The Poetry Slam victory continued this morning. DG came into my room before first period (I don’t have him till fifth, but he likes me) talking about how much fun he had yesterday. He said he was so nervous, but once he started reading it was just so much fun. Be still my heart.

Also, today LS threatened to kill herself. And no one could find her para, Ms. WP, when it happened. It was Ms. WP’s lunch break, though, so I’m unclear as to how she can be in trouble. But she is. She sat in AP P’s office for twenty minutes waiting to be called into a meeting about the situation while a small army of people searched the school for her. No one knew who she was, so they didn’t recognize her when she was sitting right in front of them. She’s pretty pissed, seeing as how she’s worked at the school for eight or nine years.

090506: Day 150
The Poetry Slam was an amazing success this year. Last year, it pretty well sucked. This year every student in attendance participated save three or four (I suspect GL’s crippling depression and shyness held him back and JG’s lack of participation is impossible to explain). In each period, students performed their poems one-by-one. At the end of each performance, everyone in the audience scored the performance between a 0 and a 10 by writing the number on an index card and holding the card up in the air. I (kind of randomly) picked three scores to write on the board and tallied up the totals as we went along. I’m incredibly proud, mostly of me but also of the students. Keys to success: students were on teams and competing for a team prize; students were also competing for an individual prize; guest judges made it “real”; and each student got to judge all the performances. Once the event got rolling, so many kids were participating—both reading and scoring—that it became more embarrassing for a student to refuse to participate than to be mildly embarrassed by reading in front of the class.

GA read a poem of his own composition and won in fourth period with the only perfect score of the day. He’s still an asshole, but it was nice to see him succeed. JK wowed the entirety of first period with his rendition of “Romantic” by Dana Wier. Pretty amazing for a kid who gets made fun of stuttering through whole paragraphs. BR almost caused AP A to faint with his recitation of “may i feel said he,” a poem I personally picked out for him when I noticed he was looking for “sexy” poems.

The event was such a hit that by fifth period, we had four guest judges and a bunch of students from first period who enjoyed the slam so much they came back to see more.

I need to do more presentations next year.

090505: Day 149
I ran into Ms. Po this morning. She had a letter in her mailbox from AP P asking her to attend a meeting Friday morning. AP P happened to be standing there when Ms. Po picked up said letter, so naturally she asked what it was all about. AP P claims she just has a question to ask, but I don’t think it’s going to be as easy as that. Neither does Ms. Po. She’s a little bit upset, seeing as AP P is supposed to be meeting with students and their parents on behalf of Ms. Po, due to the constant sexual harassment she endures (See Day 142). Of course, when the kids harass her, Ms. Po rips them back. So who knows what that meeting is going to be about. But generally, if it is scheduled, it is more than just “a question.” Ms. Po told me that she doesn’t think she “can come back to this place” if she’s in trouble. I think she’s known for awhile that she shouldn’t keep coming back. It’ll be interesting (and possibly tragic) to see how this plays out.

Today is the last day of class preparation before the poetry slam. I was reviewing the expectations and the prizes for the winners. In fourth period, fucking FR called me cheap because the top individual prize was only two candy bars. I canceled all prizes briefly because really. FR is the kind of kid who acts like an asshole daily, lets other students take the blame and then claims he never lies, that he always admits it when he is out of line. He is the lowest form of scum in the classroom. And he does no work. Numerous kids in the classroom called on FR to apologize for calling me cheap and ruining it for the rest of them. He flat out said he wouldn’t apologize because I was being cheap. Fucking hate that kid. It’s this kind of crap that makes it hard to come in every day: a student who lets others take the blame for his shit, who does no work, who expects to be treated like royalty by his teachers.

090504: Day 148
Remember when my seventh period got split in half? (See Day 97 and the next few days that followed.) Well, Ms. Wi finally took her maternity leave—that woman held out until the last week of her pregnancy to take her leave—which left all her classes without a teacher. So, the students in Ms. W(itch)’s seventh period got returned to me and Ms. W(itch) took over Ms. Wi’s seventh period. So far, they have been pretty good to me. Obnoxious as all get out, but happy to be back with me. Or just happy to be back in a class bigger than five students. MN in particular seems happy. He came in on time, picked up a new Aims and Answers sheet without being asked and immediately began to copy the aim. He also claimed me right quick as his partner in the Poetry Slam on Wednesday. I missed him, too.

Week 33: April 27-May 1

090501: Day 147
On account of the fact that kids have basically given up, I’m pushing them toward independent work. Today they worked on analyzing the poems they chose in the computer lab. Miraculously, the day was pretty chill. Ms. L reported that she looked in my window at some point during the day to see me bending over and helping one student while the rest of them worked quietly. She was impressed and perhaps jealous. I’m impressed myself and take very little credit for the miracle this independent work represents. Attendance was low and it was a little cloudy: recipe for relaxation.

It’s been nice the past couple days to interact with poetry again. Last year I gave the kids a choice of four poems to perform dramatically. This year they had the entire internets from which to choose a poem. I’m happy to report that I already know a fair number of the poems they chose—My Love is Like a Red, Red Rose—or I know the poets, as with Russell Edson, Yusef Komunyakaa and Stephen Crane. SP accused me of telling tales when I told him that I got to read along side Yusef Komunyakaa and Andrew Hudgins used to be a professor of mine. I remembered that contemporary poetry is not a big world. I’m also remembering that I know a lot about poetry. Even in cases where the kids picked some weird-ass poems, like EB’s A Farewell to Tobacco and JK’s Romantic, I can pretty quickly guide them to accurate and personal interpretations.

The judges are all lined up for the Poetry Slams this coming Wednesday, and I am super excited. I hope the kids do well performing their poems, both for my sake and theirs.

090430: Day 146
AP A told me today that as bad as it is in high school, the situation is worse in the middle schools. The big state tests in middle school pretty much are all over by the end of next week, with the result that the students are pretty well done with the school by the end of next week, too. It occurs to me that this is a pretty good explanation for why all of our freshman have stopped working. Even first period comes in daily and bitches about having to do anything. They must think they’re still in middle school. Sadly for me and them, this is high school. We have a little over six weeks of classes left, and every day of it counts.

Teaching has become nigh-on pointless, with maybe one out of ten kids looking at me as I talk. Hardly anyone copies the aim or the answer to the aim. Lateness has reached new heights, with entire periods coming late—fifth period, I’m talking about you. Tomorrow is the last day of the fifth marking period, and I look forward the paucity of papers I will receive, as it will make it so much easier on my conscience to fail entire periods’ worth of students.

090429: Day 145
I’m so glad we’re done in the computer lab. On the whole, the kids did pretty well. Most of them spent most of their time looking at poems and mostly they found a poem they are into enough to perform in front of the class. But the set-up of the room is a nightmare—I had to stand on chairs and literally shout in order to communicate any directions—and the computers themselves have got to be fifteen years old. That is to say that the computers are about as old as my students are. Not to mention the stifling heat and humidity that have plagued the building all week, the effects of which are only magnified by thirty-odd computers desperately working to keep themselves cool.

BR was looking for a sexy poem to perform, and I happened to notice he was also checking out car poems. Naturaly, I directed him towards the e. e. cummings’ poem that uses a graphic description of driving a car to suggest sexual intercourse. BR is into it, though it will be interesting to see how he manages to perform it.

Fourth period made many pleas to return to the computer lab. Ha! It was only after EV said, “Don’t you get it? It’s already done” that they stopped bugging me about going back. God bless EV for actually getting it.

090428: Day 144
Oh how I hate the computer lab we have to work in today and tomorrow. The rows of computers make it impossible for the students to see me and because the routine is broken no one is trying to see me. Half the computers are broken and half of those that do work are either slow as honey on a winter day or freeze up five minutes into using them.

Fourth period distinguished itself by throwing paper balls all over the lab and then throwing computer manuals. DD most certainly threw a computer manual, a couple times. Someone else was involved, too, but I don’t know who. Dean C—whom I pretty much lost all respect for the day he brought his asinine fight with SC from the hallway into my class, which was already in progress—came, but ultimately nothing happened because functionally the whole period was involved in the hijinks. Needless to say, fourth period will not be returning to the computer lab tomorrow.

Perhaps the highlight of the day was when I noticed AR reading “How can I keep my maidenhead” by Robert Burns. I variously explained the meanings of “maidenhead” and “guinea” and also what exactly happens in the last stanza. I recommend you check it out. The effect of the ballad is only made better by the fact that is seems to be to the tune of “Do you know the muffin man?”

090427: Day 143
Jeff and I were discussing the joys of David Lynch’s filmography when it occurred to me that my life is a Lynch film: filled with random violence, perversion, loud bursts of disconcerting noise, and surreal interactions that defy explanation.