Week 37: May 26-29

090529: Day 166
AP A is after FR. She wouldn’t let him come back to class today. And GA has been absent! I’ve been able to teach fourth period for two days in a row. The kids who care—DC, CP, LJS—can actually hear me and they understand me, too! Anyway, apparently FR said to AP A, directly, “Fuck you. Shut up.” Also, he said I called him a bigot and Principal N agreed with me. She’s determined to not let him back into class until his mother comes for a meeting. FR has said multiple times that his mother will never come in. If she doesn’t, though, AP A is going to sic ACS on her for educational neglect. Fucking love it.

LF’s dad came in today. By the by, I had LF removed on Tuesday: it was just the billionth time he’s been unable to control himself. According to AP A, LF is terrified (vocab word!) of his father. To which I scoff, as his terror has done nothing to help him keep the lid on prior to this. But we’ll see.

Enough of this unpleasantness. Let the weekend begin! I’ve got friends coming from out of town, and we are going to bachelorette it up with a Circle Line tour and then margaritas.

090528: Day 165
FR would not stop saying the word “faggot” today. I warned him if he did not stop, I would have him removed. He did not stop. I asked to have him removed. I called him a bigot. For a kid who will insult just about anyone, he was awfully upset to be called a bigot. I wrote the definition on the board, proving it was an appropriate moniker.

Later in the day, AP A asked me to print out all my contact with FR’s parents and LF’s, as well as any email I’ve ever written about them. And then told me to get Ms. Po, Mr. P and Ms. L to do the same. She’s through with the both of them.

090527: Day 164
Today I graduated from the Mercy College New Teacher Residency Program. In New York City, you can fill out this form for certain events in order to get a day of “non-attendance” (see picture at Day 156). As far as I understand, this means that the day doesn’t exist: you don’t have to go in, but it doesn’t come out of your absence bank either. Graduations qualify for “non-attendance.” Also, administration is not allowed to deny your request if you’re graduating. So, when asked if I was going to attend my Mercy graduation, I said yes because it’s a free day off. A girl could get used to teaching every other day. That said, I didn’t actually go. I went to the party at Mercy, but mostly I took the day to do my nails and make French toast and take a leisurely bath with “Burn Notice.”

The celebration at Mercy was pretty under-attended. It was surreal to know I will never go back. Everyone there took the moment to picked up his/her CAP. Let me tell you how frustrating it is to spend dozens of man-hours on a project only to have it returned to you with no feedback—nothing—written on it except a label for organizational purposes. Which brings me to my first frustration with the program: Mercy was at least as good for lessons in how not to teach as it was for how to teach.

I have spent a fair amount of time pondering why Mercy has been the drag it has, throughout the program and evermore as the end approached. Aside from the obvious reasons—I have to write papers and attend five hours of class after a full day of teaching—I find it’s the nature of the curriculum that was maddening. Functionally, I took an abbreviated undergraduate course in education under the graduate designation. The courses were all survey courses. And in the case of Designs for Learning 1-4, it was the same survey course four semesters in a row. I am at a point in my education where I am ready to read whole books. I don’t need packets of “readings” and excerpts. I know the context: multiple courses in postmodernism, postcolonialism and neoliberalism have given me a pretty solid framework for understanding the world. How frustrating to spend two years in courses designed to create that context!

090526: Day 163
It felt like years since I’d seen the kids when they wandered into class this morning. Jeff and I left for Pittsburgh last Thursday night. Within twelve hours of arriving in Pittsburgh, I was miles and years away from school. The drive back to New York City was heartbreaking. We’ve outgrown our apartment, and my job is suffocating. I’m ready to move on but I can’t.

Seventh period watched “The Incredibles” today. I’ve pretty much stopped talking to them. This breaks my heart, but I’m kind of over it. I was walking down the hall to the office after the class, hugging my jacket to myself, and I’m pretty certain I heard one of the kids in that class telling the others that I was crying. I’m certainly not happy, but I’m over crying about those kids. Crying would mean that there’s enough feeling left in me for them to cry.

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 30: March 30-April 3

090403: Day 134
We finished When the Emperor Was Divine today. The end of the book is a spectular monologue in which the father confesses to being every horrible American stereotype of the “Jap”:

I’m the one you call Jap. I’m the one you call Nip. I’m the one you call Slits. I’m the one you call Slopes. I’m the one you call Yellowbelly. I’m the one you call Gook. I’m the one you don’t see at all—we all look alike. I’m the one you see everywhere—we’re taking over the neighborhood. I’m the one you look for under your bed every nithg before you go to sleep. Just checking, you say.

The passage is so angry and so over-the-top that pretty much every kid actually understood it. I love those days, the days when they all get it. AR loved it so much he demanded I give him a copy of the book because it’s his favorite now. I love it when that happens, too. I’m thinking I’ll buy him a copy.

090402: Day 133
I spent long stretches of fifth period not teaching. The class was relatively quiet while I wasn’t teaching, save a random conversation or two. But even though they weren’t talking, they certainly weren’t listening. After about 3 minutes or so a student would ask me to continue with the lesson. So I would ask the question I had just asked and then no one would answer. I’m not even sure they heard me ask the question, despite the requests to continue. I was not asking hard questions, for the record.

I cannot think for students. They seem to think that is my job, though. They sit there dumb as dirt and wait for me to write something on the board, preferably an answer to a question. Then they say, “I do your work” when they copy the letters from the board onto their pre-made note sheets. I am out of ways to explain that copying notes is not doing the work. They also need to answer questions, read books (and directions), listen to what I say even if they do not have to write it down, and listen to one another. Special ed my ass; this is laziness and it is disgusting.

On the upside, I finished my Culminating Assessment Project, or CAP, and drove it up to Mercy today.

090401: Day 132
Ms. Po is out today. I missed it yesterday, because I was out, but apparently her second period made her cry. That is not surprising; our kids are worse by the minute. I guess they were throwing markers all over the place, and she already felt sick, and she just couldn’t take it anymore.

I made it a point to lock up all my stuff before I left. But I came back today to find that a student stole markers from my desk. Someone reached into my desk and stole my good markers. Said person left all the crayolas and the crappy, school-supplied permanent markers and took my sharpies and overhead markers. I can’t get over it: a kid reached into my desk and stole my sharpies. The number of fucking sharpies I have had stolen from me this year is driving me a little crazy. I need them to keep the word wall nicely updated, and some fucking kid keeps taking them from me. I wish I knew who it was so I could say, to his face, FUCK YOU. Fuck you for being a petty little criminal. Fuck you for making me spend more of my money on your sorry ass, because this classroom is for you. Fuck you for making me waste my time by going to fucking Staples, again, to replace things that were stolen from me, again.

Also, I’m pretty sure whoever stole the sharpies is the same person who tagged “Cookie” all over my classroom in sharpie. It’s on the filing cabinet, Smart Board, heater, mouse pad, desk under the mouse pad and my chair. Also see where GA fucked up the bulletin board that took me a couple hours to put together. GA’s handwriting I recognize from the last time he defaced my mouse pad (and denied it).

If only they read the blog, they could see me say it: Fuck you, kid, for making our world trash.

090331: Day 131
I was positively giddy that I stayed home today, even if it was to work on my CAP. I also went to downtown Yonkers to get my license switched over to New York. Yeah, hadn’t taken care of that California license. It was probably illegal, but whatever. I’m square with the law now. I also hit up Staples for miscellaneous office supplies and even went to Target. Living large, baby.

090330: Day 130
I stayed after school today to help CP on his some homework. I kind of hate staying late, but I feel so much less guilty having one official after-school day. Also, I can get a lot of filing and grading done before I head on out to Mercy for another endless night of graduate work. As I was putting away a ton of stuff and writing directions on the board for Tuesday and stacking papers neatly on my desk, CP made a remark about me not coming to school the next day. I purposefully didn’t tell any kids that I was planning on being absent, because then they would make plans to trash my room instead of doing it on the spur of the moment. CP was a little sharper than I would have anticipated. Fortunately for me, he’s not a shithead. He probably won’t spread word around that I ain’t coming in tomorrow.

Week 29: March 23-27

090327: Day 129
Oh my, CA’s mom came in this afternoon for parent-teacher conferences. She is very supportive and sweet, but she also kept CA home for the first marking period. CA told me earlier in the year that he was almost left back in 8th grade because he missed over 80 days. Over 80 days! That is almost half the school year. While it’s true that CA has health problems, he doesn’t have that many health problems. I suppose when I call her supportive I also kind of meant she is an enabler.

CA’s primary problem in school is that he doesn’t do anything. Truly: hardly anything. He was unable to name to protagonist and antagonist for his short story. He could not answer the question “which superpower is better: flight or invisibility?” No matter how long a teacher sits with him, he will wait them out. He will give them a sheepish smile that says, “I dunno, maybe you better leave to go help someone else.” And eventually you have to, because he can’t even think of a name for a character! His mom understood all of this about him and basically said she had no idea what to do. Then they left, without talking to Ms. Po or Mr. P, who doubtless would have said the exact same things Ms. L and I did. But still.

I swear some of our parents have never heard of taking a kid’s computer or gaming system away until their grades improve.

090326: Day 128
Ms. L and I hit up some Applebees before parent-teacher night. Beer is good. Especially when you know you’re gonna have to talk to parent after parent after parent. That frilly pink drink, however? Disappointingly weak, according to Ms. L. Also hugely exciting: I got to eat buffalo wings, which I’ve been craving ever since I saw that episode of “Man v. Food” where Adam goes to Quaker Steak and Lube.

But I suppose the true story of the night is GW and her mother. While sitting at my conference table, GW and her mom had a rather long, low-level conversation of the “should I . . .” “I don’t know know . . .” “I should . . .” “maybe not. . .” nature—you know the kind. Only, it was in a loud room, in low Caribbean accents, with me sitting right there with them. Awkward. Oh, and then GW’s mom asked if I was a Christian. I like to say that I’m Buddhist in these situations, because it is equally as exotic as agnostic—which is the real truth of my religious leanings—but inspires less questioning and dismay.

Turns out GW’s mom needs to find a new job as a nanny because she hates the woman she works for up in Mt. Kisco, which is also quite a ways from the Bronx. She wants to move into a bigger apartment and keep GW in the same school because she’s doing well there. And, you know, the economy is in the crapper. To get a new job, she needs good references who are White. The woman whom she worked for in Bronxville is a little too slow to return phone calls, and the woman in Mt. Kisco sounds like a beotch. So, she would basically like to me to lie for her, to say that she has successfully and wonderfully cared for my children.

Ethics are a bitch, and I really wish I wasn’t the teacher they picked to approach on this matter.

090325: Day 127
We had our reconciliation today in our house meeting. And by reconciliation I refer to Ms. Po sulking on the floor and letting Mr. K talk for her. It was bizarre and offensive. For those of you following along at home, Mr. K is not part of the freshman house and thus has no direct bearing on the proceedings. (He did have some good suggestions, though.) It was almost as if Mr. K was there to guard Ms. Po as she played with her iPhone.

Ms. L was forced into interpreting Ms. Po’s feelings for her, to which Ms. Po could barely be bothered to respond with a “sure” or “yeah.” I wasn’t exactly expecting an apology. In fact, I was kind of expecting to get beat up on a little more for being holier-than-thou. The reality was far more anti-climactic and frustrating. Ms. Po had no reaction. I expected at least some sort of reaction. Any reaction at all to the way we both stepped in it yesterday. But no, just silent sulking on the floor.

As far as I’m concerned, it’s a giant whatever. The freshman house is dead, for all intents and purposes. And I have a fundamental problem being friends with people who don’t do anything to help themselves out of their own misery. Ms. Po and I were never quite friends. We were almost friends, but now we are mostly certainly not friends.

090324: Day 126
I wrote a guidance referral for GA, regarding his horrible language and behavior and the impact they were having on his academic progress. I included reports from Ms. Po and Ms. L to hammer home the point that his behavior and academic issues pervade his school life. I referenced his propensity to use the word “wetback” as both an insult and an expletive. I wrote of his obsession with the sexuality of JC’s mom (appears to be a theme, BR also spent quite a bit of time talking about the things he does with JC’s mom).

AP A responded to my email imploring Ms. G, the guidance counselor, to get the guardian involved because “the situation is getting out of hand.”

Our response from guidance?

Attention All

GA’s guardian was in yesterday and met with AP L and myself.

I will forward this e-mail to Ms. H his mandated counselor as well as contact the guardian regarding this e-mail.

That’s right, guidance, don’t notify teachers when parents come in or anything. That would be a stupid waste of time.

Also of note today was Ms. Po asking me to eat a little bit of her shit during our house meeting. We were discussing the behavior rubric and, to put it succinctly, its failure. Me being the queen of tact, I mentioned the fact that Ms. L and I have been carrying a disproportionate amount of work for the house, particularly since the new semester began (and we lost Ms. Pe). Of course, I only get the guts—or lose my patience enough—to make reference to my true feelings three minutes before the end of sixth period. Ms. Po reared up at me—in my imagination she is like a horse with steam blasting from her nostrils—and snapped at me, “This isn’t working.” She then stormed out the room as I shouted apologies after her.

Now I will be the first person to admit to my own shit. But I will be damned if I am going to pretend someone else’s shit is my own. I was hardly tactful or polite in the meeting, but I sure didn’t deserve another teacher—a colleague with whom I should be working closely—invading my personal space to snap in my face and then storm out of the room.

On my way out of school, I ran into Mr. P and Ms. Pe (why does everyone’s last name begin with P?). I again made with the apologies (oh, I also sent a nice, apologetic email after the incident), this time to Mr. P. Mr. P assured he was not offended and suggested to me that my problem is that I am too “wide-eyed.” This is not the first time this year someone has either implied or outright said that I am naive and idealistic. Fuck that criticism. I am hardly naive. I may look like a little blonde girl who just fell off the turnip truck. But truly, I am the product of a “broken home” who suffered through a pretty good period of depression, a trollop who has been dumped and heartbroken a seriously large number of times, an activist (Jeff’s word for me, reluctantly now my own) who spent two years running a creative writing program in the Westchester County Department of Corrections. Fuck you if you think I’m “wide-eyed” after that.

090323: Day 125
I grow tired of teacher absences. Student absences, though they are certainly unacceptable, are much more palatable. When teachers are absent, the students who are still in attendance go kind of crazy. That said, today was the first day of researching Japanese-American internment during World War II in class and my kids did a pretty great job. Turns out that their previous experience using my preformatted research note-cards in “Flight v. Invisibility” prepared them pretty well to research primary and secondary sources in “Aliens and Americans.” Hooray for building on previous knowledge!

Of course, this small victory was preceded by a horrendous amount of harried photocopying that I finished just moments before first period. I hate Monday mornings.

Week 27: March 9-13

090313: Day 118
JW wandered into my fifth period today. I asked him to leave, which he took his good sweet time doing. On his way out the door, he told me, “I’ll be back . . . in two hours . . . next week . . . next year . . . and the year after that . . . and the year after that . . . butt naked, with a saddle on my back, and butter all over me.” He rubbed his chest to demonstrate where the butter would be. In case I didn’t understand.

090312: Day 117
ML continues to get under my skin. Not even under my skin, really, but certainly under the skins of the students in my third period. MB in particular is pissed off; he wants me to kick ML out. ML spent his day in my class trying to steal everything that wasn’t tied to down—you know, everything. At one point, he put six copies of When the Emperor Was Divine under his jacket and denied that he had taken any. I know him to be the student who stole my hall pass (which still hasn’t been replaced, by the way) and a student who has walked out with more than one of my markers. I think he also stole one of my whiteboard erasers, though I can’t be positive about that. I’m not real into taking my eyes off him if he has something that doesn’t belong to him in his hot little hands.

Near the end of the period, he sat down behind my desk and would not move when I asked him to. I specifically told him that if anything was missing, I was coming after him. He accused me of threatening him. I told him I was absolutely threatening him as he was not allowed to sit behind my desk, a policy I had made very clear to him previously. At the ringing of the bell, I counted my books and not so surprisingly discovered one was gone. I reported him to the deans and now he has been suspended. My book remains MIA, which is unfortunate because I have a limited number (see below), but at least that kid will be out of my hair for a second.

I ran into AP A just minutes after I sent the Deans report. Our conversation:

AP A: I don’t think that kid belongs with us.
Me: What the fuck is wrong that kid?
AP A: You know, sometimes I love talking to you.
Me: Well, really . . .
AP A: Something about him bothers me—Not bothers me, but he makes my antennae go up.

AP A has been assistant principal of special education for at least five years. If she is freaked out, there’s something to worry about.

090311: Day 116
I went to the Teacher Tax man this evening. This year I shall have an itemized tax-return, or something like that, and hopefully should get more money back in my refund. Because, after we broke it down, I spent over $8,000 dollars out of my own pocket on my job last year. That figure does not surprise me at all. I rant into Ms. F there; hers was the appointment before mine. We gossiped a touch about SP, who got into a gang-related fight and had his two front teeth knocked out. Not that I’ve seen him sans teeth as he cut my class today.

On my way out, I decided to take the stairs because I was on the second floor and it seemed a waste to call the elevator for just one floor. I entered the stairwell and went down one flight to discover it was an emergency exit only. I went back up only to see that the door on the second floor had locked behind me. Re-entry on floors one and five only. I already knew floor one wasn’t going to let me out, so I climbed up to floor five. When I opened the door, I found the floor under construction: exposed beams, light bulbs hanging from extension cords, cement floors. I called an elevator, but none of the three came. They were set to pass the fifth floor because it is under construction. I kind of freaked out, called Jeff, and wandered the floor a little. I found a freight elevator, fortunately, and that worked. I came pretty close to having to call the Teacher Tax Man to say I was stranded on the fifth floor and couldn’t get an elevator and could he please call the front desk so someone could come get me? Très embarrassing.

090310: Day 115
One of the few things I failed to consider when planning our new unit, Aliens and Americans, was how many copies of the novel the school owns. I blocked out three and a half weeks of in-class and homework reading for When the Emperor Was Divine only to discover that we only have 25 copies of the book. So I’m photocopying it. The whole thing. Sixty-seven packets. I’m doing it discreetly, just in case photocopying an entire book is considered a poor use of resources.

In other news, my fourth period has been unbearable. Do not mistake this fourth period with last semester’s fourth period: they are almost entirely different. LF, GA, JC and DD. These are the boys who are trying to destroy me and their peers who care.

On the upside, DD was suspended today for insubordination. I like to think I had something to do with it—he in fact believes I had everything to do with it—as I sent two deans reports in two days and had him removed from class for being disruptive today. More likely it was the fact that AP V, who is the assistant principal of physical education, reported his insubordination. Also, Dean A reported his insubordination. The next three days will be much quieter.

GA is a different problem altogether. While DD is simply immature and lacking self-reflection, GA is a malicious troublemaker. He is one of those kids who says, “I wasn’t talking” when he’s been talking nearly nonstop for the entire period. I spoke to his sister yesterday, and she referenced the fact that he is on probation for graffiti and that his probation officer threatened to lengthen his probation if his school behavior didn’t improve. Then she made it sound like she was going to try to protect him from such a lengthening. (Grr.)

So I called again today, because his behavior did not improve at all. I heard her will to protect him break—or possibly change—and she told me she was going to call the probation officer because she just doesn’t know what else to do. I would argue that telling the probation officer that he is a menace to his own education and to the education of others is actually protecting his best interests, but you know how it goes. Hopefully, she came to that conclusion herself.

090309: Day 114
A conversation from my Monday after-school help session.

CP: Miss, how do you spell “let”?
Me: (slowly and clearly) L-E-T.
CP: L . . . E . . . T?
Me: Yes, L-E-T.
CP: (writing) L-E-T.
Custodian R: (quietly, to me) Lucky you.

Week 26: March 2-6

090306: Day 113
Strife continues within the special education department. AP A sent everyone an email reminding us of the ladder of discipline for classroom management issues. Everyone understands this ladder and understands that they shouldn’t send students out of the room for wearing a hat or not having a pencil. What no one ever explains is what exactly to do when a student is so disruptive that teaching is an impossibility—AP A always conveniently skims over that detail. Presumably because no one in the administration really wants to deal with such dirty things.

Anyway, I digress. Ms. W(itch) replied to AP A’s email. And copied everyone in the department. (Please note, Ms. W(itch) teaches English.)

You must have been reading my mind, I was just getting ready to email you about some of these very same issues. I have a couple of students that may or may not still be on my roster at this point who very often come to class late and unprepared and in these cases I usually have them sign the late log and later call the parent because I know that is the procedure. However, I also have some students who never attends class but go down to 144 claiming that they have been kicked out of class. This presents a real issue for the deans and 144 and I know that me and quite a few of my other colleagues experience this very same thing and I would like to make it clear that this is occurring.

Secondly, I have many students that are suppose to be attending my class but because they dislike the course, practices and/or teacher is deciding to stay in 766 for the entire period. This presents an issue for me because I am calling home and telling parents that their child is not attending not knowing that many of us are harboring chronic cutters. Please understand that I am not accusing you of doing this because I know that you do not allow students to sit in your office and do nothing when they are suppose to be in class, I am just saying that it happens and this may not be the best practice for our students.

We are doing such a fabulous job as a department and I want to thank you, AP A, for your ongoing support. I will contact you via email if I should have any discipline issues with my students.

AP A responds:

Once again, thank you all for you constant support with this situation. We must all work together to ensure the success of our students.

As many of you know, the spring term observations have already started. I am not in the office to see if students are being sent by teachers. As we all know, Ms. V, Mr. W as well as myself are very accommodating to all and in the past would allow the students to sit on the chairs in the office. This is not a fair practice. Many of you are also very accommodating to your colleagues, allowing students from other classes to stay in your rooms. Together we need follow the discipline procedures that have been posted in the Truman Handbook.

Even though we are all working very hard together, we have already had two situations where one of the deans have brought the students to 766 (one during period one and the other during period 3). Once again, I thank you all for your support, but we need to follow the ladder of referral. Please log your home contact onto daedalus. Please do not send students out of your classrooms.

Thank you for your professionalism.

Only women can be this nasty.

090305: Day 112
It was a good day. My classes miraculously worked very hard on the Make-Your-Own-Superhero project. When I asked them to write paragraphs, they did. NH wrote and discussed what he was writing with me. Awesome! WR came back later in the day to finish Mr. Bones, who may be my favorite of the superheroes the kids made. Seventh period was beautifully chill, with AR, BR, RQ, WR and KCh (who cut history, again, that punk) coloring and chatting, writing and discussing.

The only hiccup in the day was ML. ML, much like NH, skipped pretty much all of last semester. He did come a couple times, but he was unremarkable when he came. This semester, though, holy fuck that kid’s a punk. He comes in yelling at me and likes to write “fuck” all over my whiteboard while I’m teaching. Today, as he was fuck-ing up my board, I walked back to my teacher closet, took out my camera, and snapped a picture of him. Too bad my camera wasn’t set to autofocus, or I could have had some actual proof of his assholery. About ten minutes later he ran out of the classroom. Problem solved, as far as I’m concerned.

090304: Day 111
I had my spring observation today. It went very, very well. Ms. N, the principal, came during my first period to observe my students making their own superheroes in small groups. Ms. N described my organization and preparation as “anal,” which she said was a good thing, and then asked me if I was getting them ready for Regents. I replied that I was, in fact. We then had a somewhat disorienting conversation where I may have agreed to teach the same group of kids next year. You know, so I could take them through two years and really teach them how to pass the Regents.

Theoretically, I would love to have the same kids for two years in a row. It’s not that I don’t trust the other English teachers in Special Education; it’s just that there is absolutely no cooperation among us. And now that Ms. W(itch) hates me, I suspect that lack of cooperation will continue. Last year, I campaigned pretty hard for having 11th and 12th grade (instead of 10th and 12th, which I had last year) so I could really get them to write well and pass standardized tests. Naturally, they gave me ninth grade.

The kids this year could definitely do well on standardized tests: they can read and I know I can get them to write well. But fuck me if I have to have some of them again. As much as I want someone to let me out of the box so I can really teach, did it have to be with this year’s kids?

090303: Day 110
Let me take a moment to introduce a new student: NH. Technically, I had NH last semester; he never came. I saw him once, in the hallway, right before the class he had with me. The school aide was trying to convince him to go into my classrom, but he wouldn’t. So he was taken to 144.

This semester I have him third period, which is official attendance. He pretty much has to come to me. I can’t say he’s doing a good job, because he isn’t. But he’s doing 50% better than last semester. We had a test today—god I hate test days—and when I gave him very direct instructions, he worked. He sat in the lawn chair and actually tried to get the test done. I’ve even seen him smile a couple times.

090302: Day 109
New York City had its first snow day in five years today. I woke up at my usual time—five in the a.m.—looked out the window at the oodles of snow, and decided that I was not going to go in. New York does not have snow days as a rule, so I emailed AP A my intentions of taking a day and then proceeded to gchat with Ms. L about the copious amounts of snow and wind outside.

It’s a sad state of affairs when you’re up at 5:30 and know others who are up at 5:30 and spend a good fifteen minutes chatting with them over the computer about the snow outside before the sun is even up.

Anyway, Ms. L told me partway through our chat that school was canceled. I was very confused. According to her, ABC 7 had just announced that New York City public schools were closed due to inclement weather. I was quite skeptical—not of Ms. L, but of ABC 7. Don’t they know the DOE never cancels school? I spent the next fifteen minutes compulsively checking my email and the NYC DOE homepage for confirmation of the cancellation. It took them fifteen minutes to update the homepage to say school was closed! And no one in the DOE ever sent me an email about school being canceled, which I consider bad form.

Outrage aside, I had a fabulous day. Jeff and I sat around the apartment, and I did a little bit of work for Mercy, and that was that. Delicious.

Week 21: January 20-23

090123: Day 88
I used to love test days because they required so little effort from me. This year is a different story. “No talking during the test” means nothing to my students—at least not to third, fourth or seventh periods.

Fourth period talked the entirety of the test, with the exception of AM and SS. Lack of focus I can deal with, but these students’ lack of self-control is beyond the pale. I yelled, I begged, I kicked DD out. By the time I had read the short story at the beginning of the test, they had less than a half an hour to work on their finals. I’m looking forward to failing a lot of kids in fourth period.

Then came fifth period: they settled down, with pens or pencils out, within two minutes of the bell. I read the short story I wrote (a sequel to “The Arcade”) aloud and they had a good 35 minutes left in the period to work on their tests. And then they sat there and worked on their tests. God bless them.

That picture up there, by the way, with the swear words written on the board, is the result of seventh period. LF told me, when I accused him of talking, that he wasn’t talking: “it’s the other personality I have inside of me.” So I moved his entire desk up to the front of the classroom, facing away from the class. He sat there, wrote curse words on the board. I took a picture of it, in front of the whole class. They were shocked. Small victories.

Oh, I almost forgot to mention: our rescheduled meeting with the principal? She canceled it because she had some business in the basement to take care of. That’s correct, the basement. Our original meeting was for Friday, January 16. We will not actually meet until, theoretically, Monday, February 2. Stay tuned to see what happens (or doesn’t).

090122: Day 87
First thing MN tells me this morning is that LS and NR were discussing, loudly, what a racist I am in Ms. Po’s class. Then he told me how he stuck up for me: “I said, she’s never racist to us. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” BU was also there, standing in my defense, he said. CG, who is in my fourth period class but is always in my classroom, wandered into first period during this conversation and made a dismissive wave, saying “Yeah, I didn’t know what they were talking about and I told them so.” That from a girl who is friends with NR.

On the one hand, how awesome that I have students who make it a point to stand up for me. On the other, it pains me that any of my students think I am racist.

090121: Day 86
I wash my hands of NR. She accused me today of being too sensitive, running my mouth too much, and disrespecting her and my other students. I know I shouldn’t engage with students in arguments. And I know NR is a capital-B Bitch. But I simply cannot let my students keep talking shit about me—to my face—without defending myself. So I defended myself. And then I kicked her out. Fuck her.

Also, I’ve been catching bits of pieces of conversation today and yesterday regarding AM and his girlfriend—or at least, I presume she is a girlfriend. From what I inadvertently picked up by simple virtue of being in the classroom while these conversations took place, AM’s girlfriend told him she was pregnant. He was freaking out, and much discussion took place as to what he should do with this tidbit of information. Little did the poor kid know girlfriend was just testing him. She told him a day after telling him she was pregnant that she wasn’t ever pregnant. She just wanted to know what he would do if she were. I have no commentary for this aside from exclamation points: !!! !!!

090120: Day 85
Ms. L was in DC all weekend, but decided to come back to the Bronx before the Inauguration—I assume some sense of responsibility and hope (how apropos) drove her back. I myself was pretty excited to have the opportunity to watch Barack Obama take the oath of office with my students in a school-wide assembly of our all-but-entirely Black and Hispanic student body. That right there is proof positive that my idealism and optimism remain, albeit buried somewhere deep, deep inside of me.

The day was a disappointment. Students talked through the entire affair. I have some sympathy for them: the sound was horrible, and I’m not sure even I as a 14 year old would have been able to understand a lot of what Obama was talking about, let alone these students the system forgot. However, 14-year-old me would sure as shit have been quiet during the Inauguration of the first Black president of the United States of America. She would have tried to understand what he was saying.

I’m not sure why I was surprised the day was a bust. In what world would the kids have been quiet and respectful? Strange how that little optimist in me refuses to die.

Week 12: November 10-14

081115: Bonus Day
I finished my last session of Life Spaces Crisis Intervention! I get my Saturdays back!

081114: Day 51
I followed the steps of the writing process and wrote my first successful short story. Turns out that what I’m teaching my students actually works.

See, I needed a short story for the test on Thursday that would be short enough to read in 7 minutes or so, followed a clear plot structure and included setting, protagonist, antagonist, and conflict. Those elements had to be clear, but the story had to be just complicated enough to be a true test of my students’ ability to apply what they’d learned to something they hadn’t read before.

So I did everything I asked the kids to: I brainstormed a setting, protagonist, antagonist, and a conflict. I laid out the events of the story on a plot pyramid that included exposition, three incidents of rising action, a climax, falling action and a resolution. I turned that pyramid into a draft.

Most amazing? The kids loved it. Especially third period. BJ suggested that I had to “write the next chapter of that” and every time another horrible thing happened to Billy, my protagonist, FR would mutter, “Ooh, he tight! He tight!”

I may write more formulaic short stories. They are quite rewarding.

081113: Day 50
Where to start. Ms. P is facing a “routine” corporal punishment charge for taking a student’s hat off. KCh, who was student of the month for September, was suspended for play fighting in gym. DD’s baby picture, which was attached to his project on my bulletin board, was ripped off and stolen. I gave a test, which is always kind of hectic. Yet even among these moments of insanity, I haven’t revealed the most frustrating moment of my day.

I spent my sixth period with CA–whose mother kept him home for most of the first marking period because she is crazy, too–organizing his backpack and trying to get him to work. He hadn’t finished the test from first period, yet, and he still has not done ANY work on the short story project, despite our spending two days of class working on it.

He did nothing. I had him working on brainstorming some details about his protagonist, and all he could tell me was that the guy was 14 and a male. He couldn’t, or wouldn’t, answer any of the following prompts (which were written on the worksheet): what does he look like? what does he do all day? what is he good at? what does he like? hate? goal in life? what do other characters say about him?

CA sat there, chewing on his tissue (both weird and gross, but that’s a different problem) and wouldn’t work even when confronted. He is failing all his classes because he has turned in no homework and often fails test due to his just sitting there, chewing his tissue. In his own words: “I just really don’t like to do work.” He participates well in class, so I feel confident that he is capable of the work. He just won’t do it.

He sat there and looked sheepish for a good fifteen minutes, assuming I would forgive him for his laziness and pass him anyway? I told him I would not. Neither would Ms. L or Ms. P or Ms. P. He continued to look sheepish and ignore the magnitude of the problem. When I suggested I would have to call his mother to discuss this, because discussing it with him was doing no good, he recommended that I call that day, because his brothers monopolize the phone on Saturdays and Sundays.

081112: Day 49
When we play Jeopardy or any other game in order to review a test, I always lay out rules at the get-go. Rule #1: If you yell at me, call me a cheater, accuse me of treating your team unfairly or argue over how many points you should get or the other team should lose, then I will not be having a good time. And if I’m not having a good time, then we will stop playing and the game will be over.

Third period did not follow this, my most important rule. Thus, we stopped playing the game. Well, I stopped playing the game, and they continued to play against one another. It was kind of a cluster-fuck up by the Smart Board, but they kept going through the questions and answers. And fighting. And trying to keep score. I was kind of impressed with their determination to play the game, given that it was still about English.

When I stepped back in to make sure they had covered the important stuff for Thursday’s test, little JC (who was just added) wanted to know which team would get the extra credit points I had offered to the victors. I explained that because the game had been canceled, there were no victors. So: no extra credit points for anyone. That’s what you get for breaking the rules, motherfuckers.

081110: Day 48
JS and MB have an odd relationship. JS, who is barely 4’10″, chases MB around the room with one of his copious highlighters at the end of nearly every fifth period. MB runs around to get away from him, but won’t actually exit the room to escape. They often have spats in class where MB complains that JS is bothering him or touching him or doing something else vaguely annoying. Yet MB sits himself in front of JS everyday.

The conflict in JS’s short story is between John and Bob: John is always bullying Bob. In much the same manner that JS bullies MB. This makes me wonder even more.

Privately, in our house meetings, we speculate about the illicit love between the boys. We think they have some kind of elementary-school level flirtation going on, with their unexpressed, inexpressible homosexuality working its way out by proxy of a florescent highlighter.