Week 39: June 8-12

090612: Day 176
Tests last year were awesome: the kids shut up and took them. This year, tests mean I have to work four times as hard to keep the lid on. There are two ways of looking at this. One: I’m not meeting the kids where they are, which is only being able to focus for five, maybe ten, minutes. Two: This is a baptism by fire, as they have to learn to take period-long tests now that they are in high school. High school. I take the latter view: I’m helping them man up for the rest of their school lives.

Today they wrote four-paragraph essays in response to one of three questions:

A. Is there too much violence on TV and in the movies? Why or why not? Give 2 reasons that support your answer.
B. Do the police and metal detectors make our school better or worse? Why? Give 2 reasons that support your answer.
C. Should people save sex for marriage? Why or why not? Give 2 reasons that support your answer.

After today, the multiple-choice portion on Monday will seem like a reward.

090611: Day 175
FR is in the SAVE room until the end of the year! And JC is suspended! Bitch, yeah. This means the other students in fourth period will actually be able to focus on their finals instead of the zoo that is the classroom.

Further information on the Dean-B-is-spreading-rumors front: I guess he’s been “spreading rumors” about how Ms. L’s new principal (who worked at our school just last year) and Principal N have bad blood. Is it still a rumor if it’s based in fact? Not that I actually know the facts, being the rumor-mongering bitch I am, but I’m assured of its probability based on what I’ve seen this year.

090610: Day 174
I’m pretty certain that FR said he would kill me if I kicked him out of the room again today. I don’t really think he will kill me—or anyone, ever—but I wrote it down because I’m out to get him. I am only human; kid makes my life miserable. So, he came up to my desk and read what I wrote. Then, standing but a foot away from me, said to my face, “Are you fucking stupid? You fucking stupid?” So I kicked him out. Dean B came for him and I was once left amazed at how Dean B has become one of the only people in the building I trust implicitly.

The drama surrounding Ms. L’s excessing and un-excessing continued today. Ms. L said she told AP A she was nervous about meeting with Principal N because she knew the principal yelled at Ms. RM last year when she resigned to go teach in Texas. So this information made it all around the building and ended with AP D ripping Dean B a new one for “spreading rumors,” Dean B being invited to an audience with the Principal herself and perhaps his receiving a letter in his file for “spreading rumors.” Of course, Ms. L and I heard from Ms. RM’s mouth how the principal yelled at her, so we’re a little uncertain about how Dean B was spreading rumors. But truth is not guiding force at our school.

090609: Day 173
Ms. L’s excessing was rescinded today. Ironically, Ms. L was planning on meeting with the principal today to say she had taken another position. But forget that Mr. B was hired before her. AP A told her not to touch the politics of the thing, presumably because they are a nasty piece of business. Ms. EV and AP A then ominously told Ms. L not to sign anything. This advice has had the effect of making Ms. L freak the fuck out. Neither of us can quite figure out what could happen to her—she has a new position—but this is also the school that broke the contract to un-excess her and wrote a letter accusing Ms. Po of making a false accusation when she did no such thing (see Day 161). Who knows what they could do?

In unrelated news, I had the most awesome Do Now today: the kids had to listen to two minutes of Radiolab that discussed a moral dilemma and apply that discussion to the morality of “Monsters, Inc.” The dilemma revolves around the idea of doing what is best for the individual or what is best for the group—and what to do when the two conflict. For the record, the Radiolab is hilarious and involves some pretty silly sound effects of a train killing lots of people. The kids loved it! Only fourth period wouldn’t shut up long enough for me to play the clip. It was so out of control—again—that I had both JC and FR removed. I am so over the bullshit. If only I could actually tell freshmen to drop out. It would certainly be better for the group if JC and FR never returned to the classroom. Of course, it would be pretty disastrous for them as individuals. But it’s hard not to think their lives are already disasters.

090608: Day 172
I’m showing “Monsters, Inc” today, tomorrow and Wednesday. We all need a break. It’s surprising how much less complicated “Monsters, Inc” is as compared to “The Incredibles.” That said, QF was extraordinarily excited to see the show; apparently it’s one of his favorites.

Seeing as how it’s the end of the year, I figure I should start ending some of the stories I started. LS, whom you may remember from that time she ran away but didn’t really (see Day 122), is no longer on roster. A couple weekends ago she was arrested in Brooklyn and since that time she has been back in a psychiatric institution.

I am sad to lose her. She was creative and literate. Her favorite subject was English. She completed all her homeworks with a high level of effort and proficiency and absolutely destroyed tests. Her short story, involving two girls fighting over a shoe stuck to the carpet with gum, was inspired and violent.

Sometimes kids are fucked up beyond your reckoning before you even meet them.

Week 38: June 1-5

090605: Day 171
I love computer lab days: I don’t need much of a lesson plan. And according to the kids, today was “cut day,” “national cut day” or, my favorite, “international cut day.” As a result, the longer the day went, the fewer the kids.

NR told me how sad and upsetting it was the Ms. L and I got excessed. She’s angry that it has to be the two teachers she likes the best that get let go first. I thanked her for telling me that. Despite her at-times toxic rudeness, I think she has a sweet heart. Part of me will miss her a lot.

Coming to school has become nigh-on impossible. I hated it here before, now it’s abhorrence. I have a couple leads on open positions from my teaching fellow colleagues. I would rather be working on my resume than watching kids type, but at least it’s not so challenging today.

090604: Day 170
Few things as hideous as the staff development day. I got to learn about how to write a good aim and facilitate effective group work. And then we got to do a scavenger hunt to build school spirit! I wasn’t really into building any sort of team spirit, seeing as how I’d been kicked off the team but two days prior. According to AP A, we only have 537 incoming freshman for the 2009-2010 school year. I think this school year we had around 1000. And five years ago, there were 200 incoming freshman in the special education department alone. I’m pretty certain the administration is trying to keep a school going that the city is trying to close. It looks like the city is winning.

I spent my lunch with Ms. B, Ms. L, Mr. B and Ms. M. We talked about the blog and how excited they—Mr. B and Ms. M in particular—get when they’re on it. So I’m putting them on it again. Hello!

During the afternoon meeting, the teachers of the year were awarded. Ms. L won for special education. I wrote many lovely things about her and expected that she would win. It was enough to make a person cry, seeing as how she’s been excessed, too. But I also feel like I’ve never worked so hard for so long with nothing to show for it. Last year, I was on the list for every official observation—as a first-year teacher—and got an apple-shaped tablet as a thank-you. This year I have absolutely busted ass and pretty much only had one nice meeting with the principal about it. It’s hard to not resent Ms. L at least a little (sorry if you’re reading this—it isn’t personal) as huge amounts of what we’ve accomplished this year have been because we worked together.

It all goes back to the horrible feeling I’ve had over and over this year that I might as well not be here. I stand in front of classrooms—seventh period, fifth period, fourth period last semester—and it’s like I’m not even in the room. As a house we ask for help from the principal and she cancels three meetings with us. I try my best to do something about the behavior problems in the classroom, and Ms. Po yells at me about it. I am excessed in a meeting where I am an afterthought, not even worth the time to hang up the phone or show up on time. I am the cellophane man.

090603: Day 169
Oh what a good mood I am in. I am just giddy to find a new teaching job. I don’t feel guilty about neglecting to tell potential employers that I may be leaving in a year because I have no other choice but to look for a new job. And maybe this time I can find a school that won’t kill me with purposeful inaction and scare tactics!

Periods one, three, four and five are in the computer lab today and Friday (Thursday is a staff development day), and they are so far doing awesome. No one fucked around too much, and they all actually worked on typing their narratives. I think it’s the rainy weather: keeps them chill and calm.

Then seventh period came in. Late as usual. MN accused me of being unfair because everyone else got to go to the computer lab and they didn’t. I explained that I had to cancel the Writing Workshop unit for seventh period because no one listened to me. NO ONE completed the assignments or listened to the lessons or wrote in class. And I pointed out that I begged and pleaded with them numerous times a couple weeks ago to try in class, all to no avail. It was definition of fair that they didn’t get to go to the computer lab. One day, MN will understand cause and effect. I won’t be around to see it, but I’m not so sad about that.

090602: Day 168
When I arrived at school this morning and began to grade the work in my homework basket, I noticed that my gradebooks were entirely gone. It was as if they had never been on my USB drive. All that grading I did yesterday is gone. My most recent backup was Thursday, so that’s not too bad. But it’s not too great, either.

And then I lost my teaching position. During fourth period, I received a hand-delivered memo from AP B asking me to meet her in her office at 12:25. As I was walking to her office, she was walking away. Of course. So, I sit in AP B’s office for about fifteen minutes, with Ms. LATR and Ms. L. We pretty much figured out we were all getting excessed, as we are all the junior members of our department. And Ms. LATR was already excessed once, so she knew the deal. Finally, AP B came back and our “meeting” began. When I say began, I mean I sat in her office looking at the letter on the desk with my name on it while she talked on the phone for about three more minutes. Three minutes is a very long time to wait to be excessed, particularly when you can see the letter with your name on it. I made the meeting as short as possible, beginning it myself by saying we pretty much figured the situation out while we had tons of time to sit there. (The manners of it all!) She told me it was the worst budget she’s ever seen in her career.

Before I go further, let me explain what it means to be excessed. The UFT is a mighty, mighty union. Though I have lost my position, I have not lost my job. Basically, my school doesn’t have enough students for the number of teachers it has, so I had to go—along with Ms. L, Mr. B and Ms. Bo from my department alone. So I have to find a new position in another school. Even if I do not find another position by September, I will report to my current school and be a full-time substitute, or an ATR, which I think means Absent Teacher Reserve. Or Available Teacher in Reserve. But I will still have a salary. It’s crazy.

This is both the final kick in the pants of one of the worst years of my life and the biggest blessing I’ve been given since the year began. It wasn’t a surprise, either. Ms. L and I have watched the administration’s furious struggle to keep attendance up this year with the understanding that they’re trying to hold onto their faculty as much as the kids themselves. But a failing school is a failing school.

Of course I had to go teach seventh period after being told I was no longer needed. And they were the assholes they always are. Except RQ. Small victory.

090601: Day 167
Ms. L threw me a bachelorette party on Saturday. I was still recovering this morning. AP A suggested that perhaps I am getting old if it takes me days to recover. I retorted that it had been a twelve hour party, and she understood where I was coming from.

Seeing as how I always bring my grading home over the weekend and never do it and I had house guests on the futon, I finished exactly no grading. This morning I put Jeff to work on the multiple-choice vocabulary quizzes (which he did even though he didn’t want to) and starting busting through the homeworks and writing assignments myself. Once I got my photocopying done at school, I sat in my classroom and continued grading, grading, grading! I managed to finish the grades in time to print out lists of missing assignments for the kiddies and write their current grades on top. Given that I show them their grades at least once every week or two (depends on the period and how often they ask me), it was shocking how many kids were surprised to see they are failing. Don’t they see the homework chart? How many stickers they don’t have? How many quizzes they fail?

SP was made of attitude when he saw his 30%. Poor kid. We sent a guidance email awhile back saying we thought he should be reevaluated because he cannot keep up with the classwork. Even when he is trying and paying full attention, he is struggling. So guidance scheduled a meeting during a period when none of us could attend and told the mom she should try to transfer him to a smaller school. That was frustrating. SP did not get into a smaller school and the reevaluation process was never started. So he will spend at least another year falling more and more behind. If he doesn’t drop out, it will be a miracle. Or because of football. But he can’t play football with failing grades. Yet another slow-burn tragedy in the making.

Ms. L and I met with RQ’s mom this afternoon to discuss his shit attitude and declining work ethic. I now realize she is actually his aunt, as she made reference to RQ’s mess-up father, her brother. Fortunately I already learned the lesson that just because they have the same last name does not mean they have a parent/offspring relationship. We shamed RQ pretty good, so hopefully he’ll shape up.

—-
Update: New film picture on Day 166.

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 28: March 16-20

090320: Day 124
For the record, it snowed today. It was the first day of spring and it snowed.

I got another runaway notice in my mailbox this morning: SF ran away as of February 28. Of course, we already knew she ran away because Ms. L tracked down SF’s mom (by asking GW if she had SF’s phone number) when we hadn’t seen SF in a couple weeks. SF’s mother said SF had run away. She just didn’t tell the school or anything because, you know, SF has done this before. It took her three weeks to report it to the school. Think about that for a second. I would add an exclamation point but I fear it would ruin the severity of the statement.

On a lighter note, I had to cover Ms. L’s eighth period class because she took ten of our kids ice skating today. It was me and CD, quietly writing for 46 minutes. I wrote many haiku, of which this is the finest:

Nigga please with that
obnoxious pussy talk you
must be a virgin

090319: Day 123
I’m still photocopying the entirety of When the Emperor Was Divine. Me and the rizo have gotten real friendly these past couple weeks. According to Mr. W, we don’t have much ink left in the entire building. So I closed the door while me and rizo got real friendly. I need the copies. What else can I do?

090318: Day 122
In our house meeting we discussed the fight SP got into last week, in which he had his two front teeth punched out. According to Mr. P, SP didn’t even understand what was happening as he prepared to rumble. He knew a dude was running at him, which meant there was going to be a fight, but he didn’t know why the dude wanted to fight him. He didn’t realize this dude was going to cream him because he had been shittalking him and his girlfriend for a week. Hello, McFly. My favorite part is SP’s initial reaction to said dude running at him was to remove his jacket. Picture it in your head: dude runs at SP, with the intention to fight, and SP takes a second to remove his jacket. As he is removing his jacket, his hands are behind his back. And dude takes his opportunity to crunch him in the face.

Also on the list of completely ridiculous and confusing incidents of the day was LS’s purported running away. I got a memo in my mailbox this morning saying she had been reported runaway/missing as of the day before. Then I got a phone call from Ms. S, her related service provider, at the end of third period asking if LS’s para was in my classroom. I replied yes, and Ms. S said, “Oh, you’re kidding . . . Can you send her down here. LS is here, wondering where she is.” I had that weird feeling you get when there are giant holes in the official story. Did Ms. S know she was “missing”? I talked to AP A later that day to report that LS was in the building—not missing, as previously thought—and AP A had no idea she was in school. What the fuck, people? Either which way, LS was not at home the night before, so who knows where she was? She did make it to school, though.

090317: Day 121
I passed out grades for the fourth marking period today. The number of students who are confused to be failing is more upsetting than the sheer number of failing students. I find myself explaining the class requirements everyday. “Your Aims and Answers sheets count for points. If you are not doing them, you will lose points. The behavior rubrics count for points. If you are not doing them, you will lose points. There is a vocab quiz on Friday. Do not be surprised on Friday when I tell you there is a quiz. . . . Everything counts. If you are not doing classwork, you are losing points. Everything counts. Let me repeat, everything counts.”

That is not an exaggeration, for those of you who were wondering.

090316: Day 120
Turns out the Designs for Learning series of courses at Mercy isn’t just frustrating when your professor is crappy. Even with a decent professor, it is pointless. I understand how to lesson plan and how to unit plan and how to evaluate student work. You know, I pretty much get how to teach at this point. Everyone else does, too. As a result, we spend at least an hour of class bitching about one thing or another while our professor tries to assuage our anxieties nigh on the end of our Mercy career.

I make phone calls during the first half-hour of class now. We’re not talking about anything, and I try to sit next to the door because there’s also an outlet there for my computer (which has a bum battery, by the way: Apple please take notice). It’s very easy to just slip out the door and make a few phone calls to various parents. The fourth floor corridor more often than not has at least one teacher-cum-grad-student on a cellphone talking to a parent, so I know I’m not egregiously out of line.

The purpose of my phone calls this evening? DJ and CM’s incredibly dumb face-off in fifth period wherein they called each other ugly and asked each other to suck their respective dicks. For the record, CM is a girl. The best part of the fight was when DJ got louder and louder as he was taken out of the classroom and away from any chance of CM’s physically harming him.

Also called home for LF because he is failing hardcore and says really, well, hardcore things in the classroom.

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 25: February 23-27

090227: Day 108
My brain is methodical and systematic, and so is my writing. My students are not so methodical and systematic—and neither is their writing. This makes teaching them to write an organized, five-paragraph essay a bit of a challenge.

I’m learning that in order to teach them how to write, the only way to get it done is to rush through the mini-lessons—outlining, writing introductions, writing body paragraphs, writing conclusions—then provide ample class time for them to struggle through it at their own pace and ask as many individual questions as possible. Today was the first day this week the kids had a big chunk of time to work on their essays in class. I had a chance to talk to everyone and give them individualized help on whatever phase of the essay they were in. Thank god. I saw so many more smiles as kids were writing than ever before this year.

090226: Day 107
SC was officially recommended for a District 75 school for students with emotional disturbances. Of course, he won’t actually go to a D75 school unless a seat in one opens up. AP A has her fingers crossed we can ship him out in the next couple weeks. Not so coincidentally, SC was much better behaved today.

The call-home campaign continues, with a new fear-inducing strategy (see Day 94 for more on phone calls and the culture of fear). Today, AP A emailed the department its second “Daedalus phone log.” Every week now, we receive a spreadsheet with the names of every member in the department and the respective number of phone calls they have logged into Daedalus. I will admit that the strategy is effective: I have made more phone calls this week than the last two. Of course, I’ve been sexually harassed in my classroom and thrown out five or so kids for egregious misbehavior. But there’s nothing like a public shaming to motivate people to do their jobs.

Someone please explain to me how my principal is confused as to why she is alienated from her staff.

090225: Day 106
A note on the sexual harassment of teachers: I received NO written response to my email about SC and his sucking seed comment from anyone in the administration. Ms. L, Ms. Po and Ms. H responded to the email, adding some more names of students involved, but nothing from any assistant principal or dean. According to Ms. L, AP A made a police report. I have received no confirmation of this, though, and certainly not in writing.

Even more exciting, this afternoon we had SC’s educational planning conference. Students have EPCs every three years when they are in special education. The school psychologist retests and reevaluates the student to ensure s/he is in the correct placement. Students can also have reevaluations if a parent requests it. SC’s mom requested a reevaluation—at the request of AP A—when SC knocked the wind out of me (see Day 63). Now, normally EPCs are not very well attended: school psychologist, a teacher or two, the parent sometimes in person or sometimes on the phone (a lot of the time nowhere to be found at all), and then counselors drop by for a few minutes. SC’s conference was so well attended that we had to switch rooms. Attendance included: Mr. P, Ms. L and me; the school psychologist; SC and his mom; Ms. E, his related service provider; Ms. G, the guidance counselor; and—wait for it—Ms. N, the principal. Every EPC should have this many attendees, by the way, and it’s sad that it takes a disaster like a kid almost knocking over a teacher to have things happen the way they should.

I didn’t get to stay to the end of the meeting because I had to teach seventh period. But it was pretty clear that SC is now heading toward a more restrictive environment. Ms. H, the school psychologist, reported that his tests show he is a sensation-seeker. He loves taking risks and the feelings they give him. Who knows how far he will go in seeking his sensation? Will he endanger himself or others? Not to be hysterical about it, but I would guess yes. The fact that he failed every single class last semester didn’t help him either. We’ll see how it shakes out, but I foresee a District 75 school in his near future.

090224: Day 105
I was driven out of the room in tears again today. But whatever, I’m already over that. NR came to see me later in the day and she listened with real sympathy and sincerity to what I had to say. It was one of the nicest moments of the school year—almost worth the crying and flipping out.

The real outrage was when SC made me the butt of a sexual joke in class. My boys in seventh period were talking about sex as usual and then JC said something like “Oh, ask Ms. G.” So, SC did. He asked me, “Miss, do you suck seed? Do you succeed in all you do?”

I’m confident that my facility with the English language can trump any student’s at any given time. As to who understands more about figures of speech, including puns thank you very much, and who has the larger vocabulary, it will always be me—as long as I teach high school special education students. So, I cracked the code on SC’s little joke pretty quickly and called him out on it. The class was fairly surprised I was that quick.

I reported the incident and made some phone calls. I also compared notes with Ms. L, who had had the exact same question asked of her earlier that day. Ms. Po responded to my incident report to say that she, too, had had the same experience. Nothing says safety in the workplace like a pattern of sexual harassment.

090223: Day 104
Ms. L had a meeting with Ms. N, the principal, after school today. Ms. L has a sweet summer gig lined up being a camp counselor at Greek camp—in Greece, no less—but it starts before our school year ends. Being the responsible employee she is, she asked if she could go instead of just taking a bunch of sick days at the end of the year.

This isn’t the real story, though. The real story of this meeting is when Ms. N almost poured her heart out to Ms. L. Apparently, she began to bemoan the fact that she feels alienated from her staff and doesn’t know what to do. I, for one, cannot imagine what this conversation must have felt like to both parties, being a person who does not share any feelings with coworkers unless the situation is dire.

Ms. L wasn’t too into pursuing the conversation of why the staff was so “alienated”—not too surprisingly—but she did mention the letter she got in her file last year for “insubordination.” For the record, no one really thinks Ms. L was insubordinate, not even Ms. N, but the letter was a formality and thus had to go in her file. Ms. N’s response? She didn’t even remember giving Ms. L that letter. Ms. L said, “Yeah, teachers remember those things.” It would seem the only person who doesn’t understand why there is a great divide between staff and principal is the principal herself.

Oh, before I forget again: remember when we were supposed to meet with the Principal to discuss the behavior problems in our class? And the meeting was canceled and rescheduled? Then canceled and rescheduled? That meeting never happened.
—–

Update: New film pictures on: Day 80, Day 97, and Day 99.

Week 22: January 26-30

090130: Day 93
I made an offhand remark to my AP this morning about having time to sit down with Mr. P, the new math teacher for the house, because I need everyone to be going like gangbusters the second the spring semester starts. AP A looked right at me and said, somewhat loudly, “How did you know that? How did you know it was Mr. P? That hasn’t been announced yet.”

Oops.

I excused myself from naming my source, and AP A explained to me that Ms. Pe’s replacement has not been announced because the replacement has not been finalized. Interesting, though annoying. I really need to know who’s going to be working with us. We only have one shot at making this semester different than last, and I’m not so into fucking it up. Bureaucracy blows.

090129: Day 92
I proctored the Reading RCT this morning, which is to say I read the Reading RCT aloud, in its entirety. This would normally be the worst thing ever, but SR was there. SR graduated last year and was my BEST student. She works harder than most people I know, let alone students. God bless her, she’s taken the Reading RCT half a dozen times at least, without passing it. She came back, after graduating, to try again. Seeing her did my heart good.

Only 16 kids out of the hundred or more who took the test passed it. Hearing she failed (again) wasn’t surprising, but it was still heartbreaking.

090128: Day 91
We learned today that Ms. Pe is to be excessed. We learned this through the gossip underground, which is the only reliable source of information in the school. (That should tell you something.) Many things are said behind closed classroom doors.

It’s hard to be that upset by this information because I really believe the situation vis-a-vis our students cannot get worse. Of course, our students hate change even more than the average kid, so who knows what this kind of change will do to them.

When Mr. R, our kids’ music teacher, was excessed, MN told me the class was deliberately planning on making his replacement’s life miserable. I fear for what they will do to a new math teacher. And how that will bleed into all the other classrooms in their academic lives.

090127: Day 90
Few things are as lovely as Regents Week. With the exception of proctoring and grading a couple of exams, there isn’t a lot to be done.

This morning I watched “Pretty in Pink” and organized my paperwork.

My afternoon was spent grading finals, sitting on my heater, watching “Roswell” on Hulu.

I could hear the papers whispering against one another as I stacked and organized, the scratches of felt-tip marker on file folders, the clink of my keys hanging from my back pocket. The bliss of a student-free week.

090126: Day 89
Today I showed some fourteen-year-olds my awesome bowling prowess. For those of you who know me, you may find the former statement pretty funny, as I do not actually have any bowling prowess. But let me tell you, I gots more game than my students. I bowled an 86! Even had a couple spares and a couple strikes.

GW, however, was the real star of the show. She told me she wasn’t going to bowl, but I had already paid for her games. I made her bowl, because that’s my job. I can’t explain what she did, exactly. She would bring the ball back, swing, and let the ball literally fall onto the alley. She had no follow through. But the ball would slowly, slowly make its way down to the pins and knock at lest nine over almost every time. I have never seen anything like it.

We had lunch at McDonalds and played Two Truths and a Lie. It was quiet, awkward and sweet. The way 14-year-olds should be.

—-

Update: New film picture on Day 67.

Week 20: January 12-16

090116: Day 84
Bad day.

First period: During discussion of the presentation for the final project, MN brought up Ms. Po’s calling him a pussy. In front of Ms. EM, who would have to report it to her AP except I intervened and offered to deal with it in-house if possible. Ms. Po apologized and all is well. Until MN goes around calling Mr. K a pussy again, probably.

Third period: RQ throws together a last minute presentation with LJS, who was absent Thursday. When they get up to present, the entire class boos. Ms. EM, with her typical suavity, says, “I know it’s tempting to give RQ a taste of his own medicine. but give him the respect you wish he’d given you.” They do not.

Fourth period: DD complains loudly that he’s going to sue me for not teaching him. Of course, I’ve provided him with an English literature activity and I answer all the questions he asks me—I am fulfilling my end of the bargain. AP A happens to be walking by and tells DD that I will give him her name, email and phone number (which I do). If he has a problem with my lessons in English, he can have his mother call her and set up a meeting to discuss DD’s behavior in my class and the resultant lesson plans. Then DD and DJ go chasing after someone in the halls, flying out the door in the middle of the period. Once again, AP A is conveniently there and she takes them off my hands for the rest of the period.

Fifth period: LS accuses me of racism. No shit. The crux of her argument is that I have no business, as a white woman, teaching my black students about black people, like those in Forged by Fire. I stand agape and attempt to defend myself against her attack. Then she gestures at the labels on the desks for assigned seats and informs me that my racism is the reason why the kids in those classes don’t like me. I have virtually no self-defense mechanisms left; I leave the room crying. Poor A, the RAPP intern, was left to deal with my kids. Pretty sure that’s illegal, but oh well. I landed myself back in AP A’s office, crying again. I don’t want her to mistake how bad the situation is.

Sixth period: We were supposed to meet with the principal, but her secretary messed up the scheduling and wrote us in for next Friday, not this Friday. I pretty well say bullshit to this. We have been blown off once again. I cried a little during our meeting, again, when Ms. L asked how we’re doing. I’m not doing well. Ms. Po said virtually the same thing. We joked about how funny it would be if the entire freshman house quite next year. Only maybe it’s not so much joking as looking forward.

Seventh period: I simply do not care anymore. They can probably tell.

090115: Day 83
RQ has become as terrible as any other kid in the house. Much like JM, he started the year as a good kid. He maybe called out a little too much, but he was enthusiastic and bright. He did his work. He was kind. Now, not so much. RQ will not let a person finish a sentence. Literally. Yesterday, Ms. EM told me she had gotten through this whole year without actively disliking a student. And then she met RQ.

Today, students were to work in small groups or individually to prepare presentations for tomorrow. RQ put his head down and refused to do anything. Until the last ten minutes of class, wherein he proceeded to walk around the room asking the other kids, “What are we doing?” To a person, they responded: “We’re not doing anything. I’m doing this.” Go kids!

On a sadder note, SC has been suspended again. Ms. L had the whole story, which is long and complicated. It involves SC running away from deans and school safety agents, school safety agents calling SC vulgar names, an iPod, and I don’t know what else. I really like SC (he’s the one who ran into me—Day 63—in case you forgot), but something is obviously wrong. At this point, I’m inclined to say the school is what’s wrong. If school safety agents, who I’m pretty sure are technically NYPD, go around making disparaging remarks at the size of a 14-year-old’s dick, then it’s no wonder that said 14-year-old treats them with no respect and tries to run away from them.

090114: Day 82
To end “Love, Fear and Abuse,” I asked Ms. EM, the coordinator of RAPP, to help with a final project. RAPP is the Relationship Abuse Prevention Program, and Ms. EM is a social worker in the school. We put together a final project that asks the students to imagine what they would do—as the media, a family friend, a classmate, a neighbor—if they knew about the abuse Gerald and Angel endured in Forged by Fire. Today was Ms. EM’s first day in my classroom.

I ceded the floor to her for first, third, fifth and seventh periods. (Once again, fourth period is in the dog house.) Aside from feeling anxious about not having perfect control of what was being taught in my own classroom, I had a good time watching her evolve throughout the day. I watched her refine her patter, transitions, stories from period to period. And the lesson got better and better as the day went on. I recognized some of what I do, and also why I plan in what order I will ask which questions as part of my lesson planning.

JM graced us with his presence in fifth period, which was a bit of a disappointment. A bit of back story: JM began the year as a bit of a loner who did all that was asked of him. He had a bit of a superiority complex, but it was no big deal because he got his work done. Then he got suspended, in December I think, and hasn’t been the same since. He’s been cutting classes, and his attitude when he does show up has spiraled out of control. As of last week, he decided he would not remove his hat and hood in my class.

AP A gave the house teachers authorization to kick out any student not following school rules and send him/her to the Special Education office to sit out the period. JM refuses to take off his hat and/or hood? I kick him out. I kicked him out last Thursday and Friday and again on Monday. Monday, he said this was “the third time you’re doing this to me.” I pointed out I’m not doing it to him, he is choosing to disobey a New York City Chancellor’s Regulation.

And this is my favorite part. He told me he is not disrespecting me and that he always does his work. You know, so what’s my problem? I respectfully pointed out to him that I do feel disrespected when he openly defies the rules and my authority. He tried to argue, but I simply told him that he could not tell me how I feel. Only I could say how I feel. Also, I made mention of the fact that he is failing my class; obviously, he is not doing his work.

I called home. JM got on the phone and argued with me some more about how he’s not disrespecting me—ha!—and then I listened to his mom give up on him over the course of a five-minute rant. No wonder the kid’s a mess.

Anyway, today he showed up again. He apologized to me, but then he gave his usual attitude to Ms. EM. Now, Ms. EM is not so used to the constant disrespect, so she didn’t take any of it. She called him out immediately for sucking his teeth at her. I love it when a kid gets a glimpse that suggests it’s not just me who feels disrespected by the attitude, it’s everyone who comes into contact with him/her.

090113: Day 81
Due to my disinterest in active teaching, I’m showing “WALL-E” in class. We have so little time left between the end of “Love, Fear and Abuse,” my unit based on Forged by Fire, and the end of the semester that starting something new is impossible.

Fourth period remains in the dog house, reading and answering questions, and word trickled back to them that the rest of my classes are watching above-mentioned movie. NR claims it is not fair. Hilarious! Of course it is fair. Let’s review the actions of fourth period: stolen cookies; KC’s dolphin screeches; chronic lateness on the parts of AM, DJ, DD, BR; talking so much I kicked my trashcan across the room and dented it; talking so much they pushed me over the edge and into AP A’s office crying.

As far as I’m concerned, making them read instead of watching “WALL-E” is more than fair.

090112: Day 80
In an episode of “Bones,” my favorite TV show as of the past few months, the protagonist Dr. Temperance Brennan is accused of being too distant, too unemotional when it comes to dealing with the tragedies of murder and death that confront her and the other characters daily. Angela, her best friend, suggests to her that perhaps it isn’t that she doesn’t care, but that she cares too much. She keeps herself distant from the murder cases because she wouldn’t be able to do her job if she acknowledged how deeply she cares.

I care too much about teaching, literature and my students. I don’t look for relationships with them because I can’t open myself up anymore without overflowing or being overwhelmed. According to Ms. L, the students complain that I care too much. I don’t know how to change that.

When I started this blog, I never imagined it would be the story of my defeat. The results of my caring, my inability to let go: accusations of racism, refusal to work in class, disrespect and disregard.

Week 19: January 5-9

090109: Day 79
Ms. L met with Ms. N, the principal. This would make me much more nervous, but I can’t imagine our lives as teachers can get worse. Of course, I’ve been saying that all year, and the bottom keeps dropping. So, who knows?

Ms. L told Ms. N our many problems in the house, and Ms. N said she didn’t realize it was this bad. Ms. N said she knew about the behavior rubrics, though. Why does she think those are necessary?

I figure one of two things. 1: She absolutely knows what’s going on and lied to Ms. L’s face. 2: She has kept herself willfully ignorant, in order to not deal with what’s been going on.

090108: Day 78
My students stole another USB drive from me. I had to rebuild another grade book based on my attendance records, homework chart, memory and backup copy.

I was kind of giddy all evening. I can’t even care when they steal from me anymore: I expect to be stolen from. Too much misery has tipped back into black, black comedy.

090107: Day 77
As per AP A’s suggestion, I am no longer teaching fourth period. We had the good students moved to other periods—thus my seventh period binders busting out of their crate—and now fourth period is to come in everyday, read Because of Winn-Dixie or Bridge to Terabithia and answer study guide questions. This is the plan for the rest of the semester (i.e., till the end of January). I played Mozart and read The Tale of Desperaux. I felt guilty for little more than a couple seconds about this plan as fourth period has proven to me that they do not care what I have to teach. Thus I will not teach them for the time being.

We met with Mr. B, our mentor, today to continue the discussion about our discontent. I told him what I told the kids yesterday, and not so surprisingly he was disapproving. Too bad I don’t even care anymore. Those kids had it coming, and I don’t think they deserve an apology. I told Mr. B as much. I also told him if I get in trouble because of what I said, then fuck the school. Really, fuck the administration and school: getting fired would probably be better than what happens on a daily basis. Once again, my job made me cry.

Ms. L lost it in the meeting, too. She’s been planning the trial of Andrew Jackson for a couple weeks, and today—the day before the trial—most of our kids decided it was too hard and stopped trying. They refused to write their names on the handouts. What do you do when you work for hours to plan something awesome and the kids won’t even write their names on their papers? So Ms. L ended up crying in our house meeting, too.

Any questions about how bad the situation is?

090106: Day 78
Weather forecast this morning predicted snow, sleet and ice. But the drive at seven in the morning was dry as bone, belying the coming storm. I had that feeling like something was coming—something ominous.

I’ve come to realize that there is nothing that makes me feel more disrespected—worthless, really—than having students talk over me. I’m not talking about brief side conversations or a quick question. I’m talking about having half the class carrying on loudly despite my asking (over and over) for everyone to be quiet so I can teach.

Today my tolerance for being made to feel worthless dissolved, and I cursed out fourth period. I threw the homework assignment I was holding down and yelled, “Fuck you guys for treating me this way.” They laughed. I followed up: “You think it’s funny? Get the fuck out of my classroom.”

I have never seen students pack up so quickly in my life. NR—a girl for whom I advocate tirelessly, whom I praise on a daily basis for going from a 20% for the first marking period to now having nearly an A—laughed at me on her way out and said, “Fuck you, too.”

There were only a couple minutes left in the period when I kicked everyone out, so I had some time to gather myself before fifth. Only I couldn’t. So I locked my door and walked myself over to AP A’s office. I told her exactly what I said—the best way to cover my ass? Tell my boss—and cried for a good bit in her office. I told her I hated my job, to which she replied, “You don’t hate your job; you hate the kids.” And I had to tell her that no, I hate my job. I cry at least once a week because of it; dread grows in me the closer I get to the school in my car.

I am a strong person. When I say I am in really bad shape, I don’t sound like I’m in bad shape. People don’t believe my words. They believe my tone of voice, which suggests I’m still ok. Except I have not been so miserable since I was clinically depressed. The problem is I don’t know how to be more clear: I’m not ok.

090105: Day 77
Nothing says welcome back to school like being sick. And having a faculty meeting, extending the day by an hour.

January faculty meetings are pretty darn boring: we review how to give Regents and RCTs. The procedures don’t change by that much from year to year, so I took the time to grade some papers. I did catch some interesting tidbits of knowledge. Over sixty percent of our high school’s students enter their freshman year having scored a Level I on the eighth grade ELA test. For the record, you cannot get lower than a Level I.

Also, more than forty percent of our students fall under the special education umbrella. This particular statistic makes scheduling proctors for the Regents and RCTs particularly exciting, because all those kids get accomodations on their tests. To make it more complicated, different students get different accomodations: questions read aloud, questions read and reread aloud, directions read aloud, directions read and reread aloud, use of a calculator . . . the list goes on. It all depends on what the IEPs say.

AP B is in charge of coordinating the tests (I do not envy her at all). She was explaining that if students use the restrooms while the tests are in session, they are to be escorted from the classroom to the bathroom and back again. “I’m not saying they’re cheating–I mean I know they’re not cheating . . .” Because, you know, the scores prove the kids aren’t cheating. Unless they are the stupidest cheaters ever.

——
Update: New film picture on Day 76.

Week 16: December 8-12

081212: Day 69
Today, my lesson plan consisted of a longer-than-usual quiz and independent work finishing up a creative writing assignment from Thursday. I haven’t been so in the mood to actually teach, recently, given how I hate my job. So I attribute the following miracle to assigned seats.

Fourth period was well-behaved for an entire period. Moreover, they sat in complete silence for a good five minutes or more during their quiz. I was in the back of the room, wondering to Ms. D about it—”They’re so quiet!”—when Ms. N popped through the door to watch my worst period working diligently. It was one of those moments of convergence where you can sense the underlying mysteries of the world coming to light.

Ms. D and I had the same thought at the same time: I can’t believe this just happened. These kids are never quiet and well-behaved. Until this very moment, and this is the very moment Ms. N happened to see them.

I was positively humming with excitement. It was like being in the presence of a god.

081211: Day 68
There’s something about assigning seats that goes beyond simply separating the talkers and misbehavers. It has to do with an assertion of will, which is to say my will.

Day 1: The talkers and misbehavers bitch and moan. They refuse to sit in their seats. I write their names on the board under the heading “Zero for the Day and Phone Call Home.” A minute or so later, everyone is sitting in his or her assigned seat.

Day 2: Students sit in their assigned seats automatically. Students talk less, work more, and swear less. They know who is in charge, and it’s me.

Bitches, yeah.

081210: Day 67
We talked with Mr. B today, briefly, during our house meeting. He reported that it’s not just us having severe discipline problems. Teachers school-wide—from first-year teachers to 15-year veterans—complain of the vulgar language and lack of self-control among the student body. They also complain of the all but missing disciplinary consequences. I believe the word Mr. B used was “disgust”: disgust with the behavior and, furthermore, disgust with the administration’s failure to do anything. This, not so surprisingly, does not make me feel better.

My USB drive—on which I store everything from my gradebooks to a spreadsheet that contains the names, parents, phone numbers and emails of every student in our house—was stolen from my computer yesterday after second period. Mom says I need to lower my expectations, and I have. Ms. V pointed out that I need to lock everything up, which I do. But it’s too hard to lock everything up all the time—I can’t help but forget something once in awhile. And the second I forget, some fucker steals it from me.

So I was standing there after class, talking with Ms. L and Ms. V. And Ms. L is very kind and optimistic, so she kept offering solution after solution. Hell, I came up with some of the solutions, so I’m familiar with them. But I don’t really care anymore. I feel unsafe in my classroom. I hate going to work. I hate teaching these kids. No solutions are going to assuage my recurrent feelings of desperation or the dehumanizing effects this year is having on me.

Ms. V accused her of being a man for offering so many solutions and hugged me instead.

081209: Day 66
In my dream, my fourth period refused to sit in their assigned seats. They ripped the note cards from the desks and rearranged them so as to sit very close to one another. I was crying and crying. And then I was naked, huddled on the floor, weeping in the back of the room. Ms. D, the paraprofessional, kicked me in the ass to make me teach them. I refused and continued to wail.

I woke myself up crying.

081208: Day 65
An email I received last week, presented for your amazement and enjoyment.

Thanks for the information.
am glad SS is improving it is good to hear from you guys it makes it wearthwhile, lets keep communicating with one another so he can achive his goal. in another note we just found out yesturday that im going to be a mommy again not that i was never but your a mom like for ever,ha-ha but that theirs going to be a new member in our family and SS very supportive. You are the first tcher to know in sharing this news so you can pass it on.

mrs g.