Week 33: April 27-May 1

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Week 32: April 20-24

090424: Day 142
Ms. L took a dozen kids on a school trip to Washington, D. C. I would kill myself if I did that. Anyway, despite the fact that only twelve kids were going, I pretty well planned on attendance being shite. The kids get it into their heads that everyone is going to be gone so there’s no reason for any of them to come either. So we took a day to write hate poems based on this one. Easy, peasy.

I overheard GA telling another one of his classmates that he was “holding it in” while he was working on his hate poem. Truth be told, he was doing an OK job of holding it in, too. By “it” I mean the excessive swearing and sexual vulgarities. He had good reason to make an effort. One of the many phone calls I made yesterday was to GA’s sister—that poor woman. Turns out Ms. Po had already talked to her before I phoned because GA threatened to bring Ms. Po’s mom into class and make her suck his dick in the back of the room. Sister is planning on taking out a PINS petition on him. Long process short: if a judge finds GA to be “in need of supervision,” he can put him in a foster group home or assign him a probation officer. Guess GA does have some fear in him.

Regarding Ms. Po’s shot across the administration’s bow: we have a sexual harassment action plan. AP P, AP L and AP A are going to bring the offending students’ parents into the school to have a sit-down with their kid and the world’s scariest police officer regarding the harassment. I’m thrilled with the idea of bringing the parents in. Anytime you make parents come into the school they know it has to be serious.

090423: Day 141
Boy howdy did I make some phone calls today. I called home for DD, because he’s shouting out “pussy” and “tossed salad” (not the kind with greens and dressing) all the time and blaming it on his “Tourette’s.” For the record, DD has no such ailment. I called home for FR because he sucks at least as hard as DD does. I called home for KCh because he was a little bitch in class about answering a question I already knew he had answered correctly on his worksheet. I also called home for EB, who often does nothing in class, but today was awesome! I told his sister who passed it along to his mom (who only speaks Spanish) that EB did very well on the quiz we had, volunteered some great answers and even smiled a little. That phone call was fun. Makes me smile just remembering it.

In related news, Ms. Po sent a mighty email to the Principal, AP L, AP A and the deans’ office about the persistent sexual harassment that goes on in our classrooms. She called out the lot of them: SC, GA, FR, LF, and DD. Among the best stories she told on them was DD standing in her doorway with his pants around his ankles saying goodbye to her over and over until she looked up to see he had his pants down. It looks like we may see some actual administrative action on these issues.

Oh and I cried again: during second period.

090422: Day 140
Stopped teaching again in fifth period. I can’t handle the homophobia anymore. If I have to hear “faggot” fifty times a class period for the rest of this year I do not know how I will finish. It’s hard to explain the toll the hate language is taking on my spirit. During the last ten minutes of fifth period, after I’d totally given up on the motherfuckers, TE was standing next to me. Some background: TE has a tendency to be a little gassy. Anyway, I was sitting there in my misery when TE lets out a deep, gurgly belch. He then says, “Ewwww, Ms. G! Gross!” TE is 15 years old.

I had to throw GA out in fourth period. He was doing marginally better, but his entire demeanor is class-stopping. He was so angry about removed that he threw his paper to the floor and spat on it. Then he spat on the late log. I didn’t tell fifth period about the spit. Ha ha, assholes!

And I cried again. This time during my lunch.

090421: Day 139
I had a marker thrown quite forcefully at me in fifth period today. From my dean’s report:

At one point, I threw my overhead marker down in disgust. It was at lest two feet away from any student. Later in that period, I was writing notes on the overhead with said marker and saw something fly dangerously close to my face and heard a loud popping noise (almost like a glass bottle breaking) as it slammed onto the floor beneath the Smart Board. It was a marker. After much discussion and some help from a dean, NR told me and the dean that it was WR who threw the marker. Another student, CM, also came very close to being hit and was upset.

As WR was being escorted from the room, he said to NR, “You gonna get shot.” NR isn’t scared, per se, but she was definitely upset by this comment. She said she was going to 144 to file her own report of this incident, and I hope she did.

I have attempted to call home a couple times over the past month about WaR’s attitude, language and academic progress, but we do not have a working phone number.

Dean T, whom I don’t know from Adam, came in to help with the situation. Not surprisingly, I wasn’t so into teaching after being (again) physically threatened in my own classroom. Ms. L was also in the hallway and told me that Dean T was talking smack about my classroom management skills behind my back and in front of SS. Fucking getting it from all sides here. The dean problem was one I could handle, though. I hunted Dean T down and asked him to kindly not speak about my teaching in front of my kids. He was quite apologetic and there was also some miscommunication involved.

After talking it out with Dean T, I went down to 144 to return WR’s hat to him. He was quite adamant that he did not throw the marker. But he wasn’t in trouble for the marker—no one really cares about anyone threatening me—so much as he was in trouble for threatening to shoot NR. We ended up having a really nice conversation. WR explained his anger management problems (he is so not alone with that problem) and how the only thing that helps is listening to his music. I suggested that if he felt like he was going to explode in the future I would be OK with his slipping his headphones on and listening to his music. He said the signal would be him raising his hand. He was starting to smile by the time I left. I think he had to talk to police after that, though, which was probably less fun. I myself returned to my classroom to teach another period. Didn’t even have a chance to cry until eighth period.

The nastiest part of the whole marker-incident was certainly JM. I’m pretty certain JM was the actual pitcher in the room today. He went so far as to suggest I was to blame for having a marker whipped at my face because I threw my overhead marker at the floor. Then he did that thing he does when he presumes to know what I’m thinking. “You scared, Ms. G? You scared?” And he says it with such glee he clearly enjoys seeing people scared. Which does scare me at least a little. If a kid ever takes a swing at a teacher this year, it’s gonna be JM.

090420: Day 138
The Poetry Slam unit began today. I love this unit, naturally. We read and analyze poems–love!—and at the end the kids have to deliver a dramatic interpretation of a poem of their choice. I started the unit off with my own dramatic interpretation of “This Be The Verse,” by Phillip Larkin, which drops the F-bomb. Nothing like a rhyming poem that blames the misery of the world on parents to hook kids into poetry.

Like any other day, things were fine until fourth period. Both GA and LF loudly announced to the class (or to the universe at large, it’s hard to tell), “I have to take a shit.” I spoke to both of them after class about it. I suggested to GA that a better strategy would have been simply to ask for use of the bathroom pass. GA replied, “Are you crazy? Who shits in school?” I shot back, “Are you crazy? Who talks about their pooping loudly in the middle of class?” And LF? Well, he’s another sack of crazy. The kind of crazy that suffers from echolalia. Or faked echolalia anyway.

Remember last week when I was skeptical that any students would ever be suspended again? BR is suspended! JC is suspended! JC’s suspension is particularly gratifying because it was me who he threatened to “slap the shit out of.”

—–
New film pictures on Day 126 and Day 137

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 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 14: November 24-26

081126: Day 59
In lieu of a two-day midterm, I asked my students to create characterization maps for an assigned character in Forged by Fire and then take a mini-test. They had two days to complete these assignments. Periods 1, 3, 4, and 5 had no problem–well, they had minimal problems–and completed their work. Mostly.

Seventh period. The lack of activity in seventh period remains incomprehensible to me. MM, EFS, QF and DCr did nothing for all of Tuesday. I went over to help them a bunch of times, and yet every time I returned, they still had done nothing. MM is typically a star student, but he was disgruntled. And angry at me for giving him work. At least, such was my perception. When MM asked me when the project was due, I told him Wednesday, as I had told him a couple times already. He reacted with outrage and further doing of nothing.

So, today, the drop-dead day on the project, MM and EFS (typically the leaders: QF does his own thing a lot of the time and DCr was blessedly absent) sat once again like bumps on a log. I confronted MM about his attitude, in response to which he told me I had given them too much work. When I gestured to the many completed projects around the room–my proof that the project was not impossibly hard–he insulted them: “Miss, those look like crap.”

I looked away, stopped speaking for twenty seconds or so, and regained my composure. Fucking kid won’t do work for two days running and then insults the work of classmates who actually bothered to try? Happy Thanksgiving to you as well!

081125: Day 58
BU and I had a day of it together. At 7:55 this morning, BU came into the classroom, as usual. We had this exchange:

BU: Miss G, I woke up this morning and it was like I had peed. But I hadn’t.
Me: [waiting it out]
BU: Should I tell you what was in my boxers? No, I shouldn’t tell you what was in my boxers–
Me: You should talk to a guy about that.
BU: I’m not that gay. Should I talk to Ms. C [related service provider] about that? Yeah, I should talk to Ms. C about that . . .
Me: [waiting it out]

I am rather proud of how I handled the situation; I’m pretty sure I didn’t even turn red.

Fast-forward to eighth period as I am walking through the hallway to take work down to my four (four!) suspended kiddies. I saw BU walking in front of me, heading to the water fountain. By the time I caught up to him, I could see that he was furious: tears were dripping off his cheeks. He told me AR and TE grabbed him by his hoodie and hit him in the head. I talked BU into coming back to my classroom with me, so we could send an email to the Deans’ Office reporting the incident.

BU dictated the incident to me, and I used my Life Spaces Crisis Intervention skills to establish an accurate timeline of what exactly had happened. We mailed it to Ms. L, Ms. Po, Ms. Pe, Dean M, Dean G, AP B (because BU loves AP B, who is his music teacher), AP L and AP A. Then I walked BU around, trying to find someone who could take better care of his intense emotions than I: AP A, who referred us to Ms. C (his counselor), who wasn’t there, so we went to AP B, who then called TE down to his office to try to settle the problem.

All this while, I was wearing brand new (clearance-rack!) Enzo Angiolini high heels. They are beautiful, but made of pain. I was counting on wearing my Isotoner slippers for pretty much the entirety of both my prep periods and my lunch, but instead I trooped all over our endlessly big school. My feet were still hurting when I woke up Wednesday morning.

081124: Day 57
The bells on the seventh floor broke a couple weeks ago. Most people on the floor cannot hear them in their classrooms, but can faintly make them out ringing in the hallway. As a result, security or a school aide rings the fire alarm bell, somewhere between seconds and a minute or two after the first bell. All announcements have also been rendered silent in the classrooms by this peculiar malfunction.

Today, while walking to get a picture taken for a school ID during my eighth period prep, I heard an announcement for a rapid dismissal. I walked into Ms. Po’s class to let them know there was going to be a rapid dismissal, you know, because no one in classrooms can hear announcements. The bell rang, the kids left, and Ms. Po and I proceeded to shoot the shit for awhile, thrilled at the extra twenty minutes of calm.

Mr. K dropped by and asked us if we were heading down to the required staff meeting in the planetarium. We looked at him confused because, you know, no one in classrooms can hear announcements. We pulled our stuff together, got yelled at by a school aide for not going to the required meeting–but we can’t hear ANY announcements!–and headed downstairs.

It was a nice faculty meeting, though. Progress reports came out and our school has improved five or so percentage points and gone from the 45th percentile to the 55th. We got USB drives as a thank you. The staff left disoriented and vaguely pleased.

Week 13: November 17-21

081121: Day 56
Yesterday and today, I had the laptop carts in the room so my kids could type their short stories. I want to publish them into a big anthology–I’m really excited about this–and letting them type their stories kills two birds with one stone: I don’t need to lesson plan AND I don’t need to type their stories. As usual, fourth period was a bit of a zoo, but they were getting good work done in the midst of it. Conversation devolved into a discussion of virginity, and DJ proudly announced he was not a virgin. I immediately put my fingers in my ears and began to sing. Cuz, ew.

NR, JG and LMS–three of the nine girls on my roster, all of them in the above mentioned fourth period–finished their math tests in fifth period and came back to my room to keep working on their stories. My fifth period is probably why I can continue to teach: every kid in the room was working quietly, either typing or writing their story. NR looked at me, declared, “Yo, miss, our class would never be like this.” She was baffled by the good behavior. It was like she was observing animals in the wild and didn’t want to disturb them for fear they would vanish forever. And then she bowed her head and got down to working on her story. It was awesome.

On an unrelated note, Ms. P shared with us an exchange between MG and JW, both of whom are in my first period. (Only technically: MG comes 2 days out of 5, and JW hasn’t come once since the first week of school.) Apparently, they were talking about me in her science class, and JW was teasing MG about how much he liked me. You know, how MG goes home every day after school and thinks about me, “Oh, Ms. G . . . Oh, Ms. G . . .” I think there was pantomime involved.

081120: Day 55
I had a fight in my classroom. Let me quote from my Dean’s Report:

During my third period today, FR and RQ got into a physical fight. At the beginning of the period, I saw RQ hit FR in the back of the head. RQ claimed that FR hit him first, but I didn’t see it. I wouldn’t excuse it either way, so I asked RQ to apologize. RQ refused, so I asked him to move his desk away from FR’s, which he did.

FR continued to demand RQ to apologize, I asked him to stop and said I would talk to RQ after class about. FR then got in RQ’s face, putting his shoulder against RQ’s and pushing him in circles, demanding RQ apologize. RQ told him he wasn’t playing anymore.

Then they began to genuinely fight. One of them had the other in a headlock (I’m not sure who was holding whom) and the two of them went down in the room. They ripped posters off the wall of my room with their feet as they fell, knocked the LCD projector askew and almost knocked a laptop off a desk (we were using laptops today).

SQ and CP broke up the fight. Dean B then came in and settled the situation.

FR is a continual behavior problem in class. We (the ninth grade house) have contacted his mother on 10/17, 10/21 and 11/19. We have also made a guidance referral. But the behavior problems persist. He was bragging about the fight after he returned to fourth and fifth periods today.

RQ can be disruptive, but is usually on task.

This is the response I received:

Dean S mediated. Both students understand if they are another incident that occurs

I didn’t miscopy that: that’s the email in its entirety.

What was I saying about having no support? SC swears at a Dean and gets suspended. Two boys physically fight in my classroom, destroying a poster on the wall and endangering multiple expensive pieces of technology, and nothing happens to them. I am continually agog at the rapid decline my school is taking.

081119: Day 54
SC was suspended for the fifth time today. For swearing at Dean B (again) and Ms. P (again). Looking at how many days we’ve been in session, he must get suspended once every ten days. Considering his suspensions last 5 days, he will have been suspended roughly half the days he’s been in school.

DT, who skipped the first, oh, 8 weeks of school, is back to attending regularly. He plays all the time. Only, he’s not so much playing as toying with the idea of breaking laws. I caught him putting a tissue in the shade of my desk lamp, on top of the light bulb. He claimed that tissues “cool it down.” Let me be clear, DT is not a stupid kid: he tried to catch my lamp on fire, on purpose. Fortunately for me, I’m not stupid, either, and I have a CFL in that lamp.

Later, he tried to palm one of the USB drives I bought to save everyone’s short stories on to. Once again, he tried to joke it away. I’m pretty sure he is a criminal.

081118: Day 53
It occurred to me today that my administration doesn’t so much care about the discipline and disrespect issues going in the ninth grade special education house. Our troubles are rather widely known, because we are all excellent story tellers, so why hasn’t our principal asked to meet with us? I’m sure she should care. And she should want to help us out, especially given how many of our kids keep getting suspended. Suspensions look very bad for a school. Truly, our kids have had more suspensions these first three months of school than my kids had all of last year.

Two boys–JR and DC–told me that they had been holding their anger in for a long time, but if their peers kept playing/messing with them, they were going to become violent in class. Naturally, I went to my assistant principal; she told me to email their related service providers (counselors). Of course, DC’s related service provider is part-time–only in school on Mondays and Tuesdays. And she has no email. When I looked at AP A like, “are you kidding me? that’s it?” she had no response. There is nothing to be done but email (or type a memo and drop it in a box) and wait for this woman to come back next week. So, if DC happens to become violent in class, as he warned me, oh well. Ms. H won’t be back until Monday.

There is no one to help us.

081117: Day 52
SC is a special kind of kid. He is fourteen, cannot be taller than five feet, and has the biggest, vilest mouth in the house. He has been working very hard to catch up in my class–four suspensions have a way of putting a kid behind the eight ball–and is quite sweet to me. Of course, at the end of third period today, he made this remark about Ms. P: “I want to slap her in the face.”

In short succession, the conversation devolved into sexual remarks about Ms. P, including JO (I’m so glad he got added to my class a couple weeks ago) saying something about her face, then denying he said anything about her face by saying, “I said she has a good body.”

It’s not even like they say these things thinking I can’t hear them. They slur their teachers in front of other teachers. Regularly. So I spent my eighth period prep calling parents again.

* * *
Update: I put new film pictures up: Day 44 and Day 39.

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.

Week 11: November 3-7

081107: Day 47
I could barely teach today. I gave them a quiz (as promised) and then we discussed “What To Do In Class” and “What NOT To Do In Class.” I read them my letter about canceling all rewards. The only students who complained were those who are the worst offenders in all of our classes. And the students who deserve rewards–and there are many, I know, and I feel for them–were sympathetic and understood my position. CA stayed behind after first period to tell me, “I understand why you can’t do it anymore.”

I feel much better. Lighter. The heartbreak is still there, but I’ve let myself off the hook for rising above the chaos.

Ms. P told her mom about the cookies, among other insane stories from the week, and her mom commented that it was hilarious. And the year is comedic in its exaggerated proportions, unless, as Ms. P told her mom, you feel responsible for teaching these students.

I’ve come to some sort of temporary peace with the idea that I will teach my students but no longer go beyond my bare bones responsibilities. No more treats and privileges. No more lending pens and pencils to have them stolen or vandalized. No more lawn-chair-lounging for a relaxing period.

Lessons, worksheets, quizzes, projects, and I’m done.

081106: Day 46
I make homemade cookies for students when they win Student of the Month. Today I brought the cookies in for students who won for being “Most Respectful of Peers and Teachers.” Kids in my fourth period (KC? TE? BR? JK?!?) stole student-of-the-month cookies from my desk. I know it happened during fourth period because CG confirmed for me that she saw LFo’s and JR’s cookies sitting on my desk during the period and that they were gone at the end of the period. I suspect she knows who took the cookies, but being a “snitch” is worse than stealing from the teacher and your classmates.

I have canceled all rewards in my classroom. There will be no more cookies, candy bars, homework passes, raffle tickets or grab bag prizes. Student of the Month is suspended.

I pulled down just about everything that makes it feel homey. The fucking flowers won’t stay up anyway, and the thought of any of my students–even the kind and sweet ones–sitting in my lawn chair with their backs squishing my handmade pillow as they nod off or refuse to take notes is intolerable.

I cannot hold onto the idea that all of my kids are honorable and worthwhile. Believing in them has once again opened me up to heartbreak. They have proven time and again that they will not change their behavior. I don’t know what else to do other than change my own behavior, hold myself at a distance.

This means I will be a worse teacher. I have to be a worse teacher in order to save myself from stinging betrayals and continual disappointment. This week, this month, this year: the good I do is not worth the emotional price I pay on a daily basis.

081105: Day 45
Mr. L, the assistant principal of security and safety is doing us a huge favor; he has created conduct sheets for our worst offenders to help us control their behavior. The boys (they’re all boys) have to ask their teachers at the end of each period to initial the sheet under “proper behavior” or “improper behavior.” We have no idea what the consequences of these sheets are–it’s possible Mr. L doesn’t know yet, either, because it seems like he’s kinda doing the job of our departmental AP (ahem) and afraid of stepping on toes–but they have certainly pissed off certain of our kids. Whether this translates into improved behavior has yet to be determined.

081104: Day 44
Chancellor’s conference day: Ms. P, Ms. L and I went to the American Museum of Natural History for our professional development. We checked out African animals and dinosaurs, ate a tasty lunch and drank some afternoon tipple. Ms. P treated us to the Manhattan’s largest, tastiest cupcakes at The Little Red Hen, where she used to work. I spent most of the day in a daze.

I lost my shit on the subway ride back to Grand Central. A woman tried to stand on top of me despite the copious amount of room to her opposite side. Then I moved away from her and a man put his arm in front of my face. I can acknowledge now that this was normal crowded-subway-car behavior. But in the moment it was the latest in a string of incidents of being treated like I’m invisible and have no needs.

So I took a step backward, off the train. Then Jeff held me while I sobbed on the platform.

081103: Day 43
My despair is great. My mom came with me to school today and watched my fourth period treat me inhumanely. Again. I think she is the only thing that stopped me from screaming and crying at them. I do not like them. They are not kind. They make me hate teaching.

Behavior is not improving. It is getting worse. Worse and worse. I don’t think it is going to get better. I do not know how I will be able to keep teaching these kids day after day.

Dad gave me the speech about the greater good. And I’m all about the greater good and how the results of my labor may remain invisible for years before they are apparent. I get that. But that doesn’t mean I can stand in front of students on a daily basis and have them insult me.

I don’t have words for the hole in me about this.

Week 5: September 22-26

080926: Day 21
The rain kept students at home, or made them late, or caused them to leave early. I can only imagine how the disaster of organizing binders would have been magnified if my classes had been fully attended. I do not know how to be clearer than to write a list of the order the papers go in, hold up a sample binder and walk around helping students find papers. Yet, my students could not organize their binders. I’m sure there’s some sort of processing difficulty, but this is also a giant listening problem. Again. How long will it take for me to teach them to listen?

080925: Day 20
I gave the first test of the year, but fourth period had to miss it because the principal called an assembly during fourth period for our students. On the elevator to the assembly, the elevator operator threatened to pull a knife on BB. I am actually inclined to believe BB, as many other students heard the operator and report that “that guy is always saying stuff like that.” I managed to get a phone number out of BB–his aunt’s, because his father’s doesn’t work right now–and then I had BB write an incident report so that we can deal with the problem appropriately. I have a more than adequate amount of empathy for the elevator operator: I can imagine how many kids shit talk him every day. But you cannot say inappropriate things to students. You particularly cannot say inappropriate things like that to students who are in special education due to their emotional problems. Our assistant principal has the report in her hands and is following up with the assistant principal of security.

I hope something comes of BB’s report. Despite my desire to kill him on occasion (empathy, again, for the elevator guy), if I as his teacher do not advocate for him now, he may drop off the map for the rest of high school. So I advocate.

080924: Day 19
I am quite the sadist. Yesterday, KC made my 4th period English unteachable for the third day in a row. Allow me to quote from the email I wrote to assorted assistant principals and administrators:

Friday, Monday and Tuesday–three days in a row–KC has made teaching my fourth period nearly impossible. His behavior today is representative of his behavior every day in my class. Today he entered class on time, but would not sit in his seat and stood in the doorway. He refused to take off his hat, even though I asked multiple times. After the bell rang, he continued to stand in the doorway and refused to sit down. When he finally sat down, he began to make loud screeching noises, pretending to be a dolphin. When I say loud I mean just shy of ear-splitting. He continued to put his hat on and then his hood on and I had to keep asking him to take them off. He then wandered around the room, asked to use the pass, and banged on the lockers at the back of the room when he returned to his seat. During this time he took no notes in my class and took a marker from a cup on my desk. He proceeded to use the marker to draw on one of my posters. When I asked him to return my marker, he became defensive. He told me if I tried to have him removed from my classroom that he would “tell Ms. N [the principal] you hit me and you stole my marker.” He then made a remark to suggest that he had done something similar with Ms. P–told the Principal on her–but Ms. P has no memory of this event.

The principal kindly emailed me back and we set up a time for KC to meet with her in her office. I was gleeful when I got a security officer to remove him from his sixth period Spanish class and walk him down to the principal’s office. Gleeful.

080923: Day 18
This is funny for many, many reasons. The most obvious is the effect that dyslexia had on the word “hellboy.” Even funnier, however, is that TT has so much anxiety and fear that he has only started smiling in the past week. And by smiling, I mean kind of, maybe smiling a little in my direction. Sweet, yes. But hellboy?

080922: Day 17
My feet have stopped hurting. Strange how it only took a couple weeks for the nerves in the balls of my feet to die again.