I’m officially closing up the blog for the year. Thanks for checking in on me and following the story. I’m not sure if I will return to write again next year or of the format the blog will take if I do. For now, I’m glad that I wrote it all down and glad that it’s over.
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Update: New film pictures on Day 183, Day 178, and Day 167.

The last day of school is truly horrendous. For the first hour, we sat in a big line outside with our third period attendance folders and handed report cards out to our kids. I sat next to Ms. H, who is moving to Saratoga Springs over the summer. Ms. H was instrumental in getting me this job back when I started the Teaching Fellows program. I spent the summer before I started as a full-time teacher as her student-teacher in summer school. I was glad to have a chance to say goodbye.

I then spent a good portion of the day hanging out in Ms. Po’s room with Mr. K and, intermittently, Mr. L. For a spell, we also had Ms. T crocheting on the windowsill and fuming about her overall U for the year. She received a U, or unsatisfactory, on the sole basis of her unsatisfactory attendance. Come to find out none of us particularly likes her or respects her, so it was a little awkward when she was looking for our compassion and we were mostly annoyed. We walked to a deli around the corner for lunch, mostly just to get out of the building, and she was gone by the time we came back. Ms. Po and I have reconciled, in that quiet way that happens when you see someone everyday and there’s more you have in common than there is dividing you.

At the end of the day, we picked up our summer pay stubs, signed the attendance, and walked out. I carried my lawn chair out of the building, over the footbridge, and bungeed it into the trunk. And so ended the year.

Day 185: 090625
I carpooled to graduation with Mr. B and Ms. M. On the car ride to Lehman we shared our conspiracy theories about the administration. Everyone in the school has his or her own version of the corruption that must plague our school. Because how else can you explain what happens around here? Our theories on this particular morning focused on the excessing and unexcessing that tore the school up over the past couple weeks.

My particularly far-fetched theory revolves around money—I know: shocker. There’s a deal on with the DOE that any schools that hire ATRs (Absent Teacher Reserves, if you will recall) will only have to pay that ATR the base salary for teachers and the central DOE will pick up the rest of the teacher’s salary. I like to think the administration excessed us so that they could hire us back at a cheaper salary, letting central take the hit of our master’s degrees and years in the system. This is pretty far fetched, but I like to think it could work.

Ms. M was particularly excited to share her conspiracy theory. She thinks the administration excessed everyone really early in order to smoke out the teachers who knew they weren’t going to come back next year but weren’t going to say anything until the absolute last day. In other words, the administration used me, Ms. L, Mr. B and at least eleven other teachers as tools to gather information. As Ms. M pointed out, it makes sense that teachers would wait until the last minute to say they’re leaving for another school because Principal N has functionally alienated her entire teaching staff (which she knows, by the way, see Day 104 for her awkward conversation with Ms. L). So how does the principal solve that problem? By alienating more of her staff by excessing them and then hiring every single one of them back a few weeks later.

I’d write about graduation, but it was remarkable only for the degree to which it was unremarkable. We had to sit on the stage but at least we got to go home directly after the event.

On a matter only tangentially related to the blog, Michael Jackson died today. There aren’t many commonalities between me and my students, culturally speaking, but Michael Jackson was one. Anytime I put “Thriller” on in the room, a half-dozen kids would ask me to leave it on or put it back on when the lesson was over. I think the tragedy of his death is bothering me more than is rational because of the tragedy I see writ large over every school day.

Day 184: 090624
On my way into the building this morning I ran into AR. In the end, AR came through with a passing grade. At the end of first semester, AR had a 60%—a grade neither failing nor passing. If AR earned a 55% at the end of this semester, that 60% would become a 55% and he would fail both semesters. But because he got a 65% this semester, that 60% became a 65% and he passed both semesters. I explained all this to AR—again—and he was quite happy. Then doubly so to hear that I was coming back next year. Then sad to hear Ms. L was most definitely not.

I proctored the US History RCT to a bunch of my kids. BR, AR, CP, RQ, DS, TT, LJS: the kiddies were all there. And it was a read-aloud room, which is kind of the most boring thing ever in the world. And I could see the kids bubbling in the wrong answers as they took the test; the United States is not a constitutional monarchy, people!

At the end of the session, after all the other kids had finished, I was left alone with CP again. He was desperately thinking in order to write those essays. The only difference between the test and our average Monday afternoon together was that I could say no to spelling words for him. And then Ms. B came in to relieve me. God bless her.

The highlight of my day was giving out end of the year gifts (bought because I thought I was never coming back). I got five of these jingling weeble-like thingies on the grounds that the best gift for people you work with is something stupid and whimsical and safe for children 18 months and older. With the exception of Dean B, who I believe was overwhelmed and confused and embarrassed by my gesture, everyone loved them. Ms. M, AP A, Ms. EV and Ms. Po were quite delighted with their prezzies. AP A couldn’t believe that the lucky number that came with her Wish Come True was in actuality her lucky number: five. She and Ms. EV had smiles breaking their faces as they wobbled the little guys all over the counter and listened to their chimes. Never underestimate the power of whimsy.

Day 183: 090623
And I thought there was nothing to do yesterday. Today was endless. I can’t remember the last time I was so bored. I spent a couple minutes poking around the school to discover if we have a literary journal. Because I’m me, now that I no longer have Mercy to deal with I’m looking for something else to fill my time. If the school doesn’t have a literary journal and has any bit of money left in the budget for next year, I’m hoping I can fill that void. And get paid for it, too. After the brief interlude of productivity in the service of the school, I watched Mr. P and Ms. Po throw leftover gak across the room at each other. Imagine filling eight hours with those two stories and you pretty much get an idea of my day.

KC: another story in need of an ending. If you’re a meticulous reader, you probably noticed that KC was a major fixture of this blog in its early days and then disappeared almost entirely. That’s what happened in reality. Second semester, KC was barely in the classroom. On the days he was, I loved him. He was sweet, did the work and mostly kept his mouth shut. As though he was another person. Ms. L and I were discussing it before she left (sob). Her hypothesis is that he was teased for being “Mexican” a little too much. The anti-Mexican sentiment is worthy of remark. I don’t pretend to understand the racial dynamics in the Bronx aside from the broad strokes—Dominicans are not the same as Puerto Ricans and one should never compare the two—but the derisive sneer that accompanies “Mexican” every time it is uttered is disconcerting. I certainly should have done more to pursue the problem, but KC is the cliche: he fell through the cracks.

Day 182: 090622
I didn’t have to report to work this morning until eleven. So I made myself some French toast and took a relaxing bath before heading to work. I was still almost a half hour early. I spent about an hour listening to Child 44 on my iPod and packing up what remained of my room. I left the Word Wall for last. It is one of my favorite parts of the room, reminds me that words are one of the reasons I teach. You know, a reason that doesn’t throw gum across the room or call me his “nigga.” Then I ate lunch and spent a couple hours reading Born Confused, a selection from my classroom library.

Then I read the internet and did some writing for another hour. As I was sitting at the computer, a tiny little mouse snuck out from the radiator and wandered around but a few feet away from me. It’s not like I was being that quiet; the keyboard at my school computer is very clackety-clack. But the silence pervading the seventh floor must have been enough to convince the little guy that all was safe. Sadly, my camera was across the room and by the time I walked over to get the mouse had slipped back under the radiator.

Mr. L and I spent some time shooting the shit, waiting for 4:45 when we were set to proctor. Fortunately for both of us, all the kids in our test room were finished with their tests by the time our shift came around. Mr. B was in the same boat. We wandered into AP A’s office and asked if we could leave early, seeing as there were no kids left to proctor to. She said yes, as long as we signed a whole boatload of IEPs. Super-illegal! Mr. B and I signed them all, though, because once you’re chest-deep in the shit it seems a little silly to get prissy about another inch of it.
___

New pictures all over the place: Day 163, Day 168, Day 169, Day 173 and Day 175.

To further increase my feelings of sappy, stupid sentimentality, the last two questions on the final this year were “What was the best part of English this year? Why?” and “What was the worst part of English this year? Why?” I ask these questions to give the kids some gimme points and to give them a chance to voice off, but also to make myself feel like I have accomplished something in addition to tearing apart my own will to live. It’s much easier to like the kids when they say nice things about you and you don’t have to see them again. A selection of their remarks (edited only slightly, for grammar’s sake):

LMS: My fave part of English is you, Ms. G. You’re funny, nice and I know some of these kids are a pain in a butt, but they can’t help themselves.

RQ: P.S. I’m sorry about ever bad thing I did to you.

DG: My favorite part of my English year was the poetry slam. We had to go up and read in front of a lot of people. I was nervous at first, but I got use to it.

AR: When we play Jeopardy and look at Ms. G dance.

GO: My favorite part of English this year was to get in it all Done with. I hold some days. Ms. G you are the best and you’re so kool. I will miss you.

JK: My favorite part was the vocabulary. Why? because it was mad easy.

KCh: The best part of English was when I turned into an English fan. I hated English so much, but Ms. G turned me around. That was the best part of the class.

AB: My favorite part of English this year was that I got the help that I need for English. I came into special ed at the middle of the year and found the work to be just right for me. Not too bad and not too easy. I really liked the poetry slam too most from the year.

AM: My favorite part was when I passed my class. If it wasn’t for Ms. G, I wouldn’t pass. I would be going to summer schooling. But i went up to her and talk to her and she give me some stuff to do and pass. Just want to say thanks for the help, Ms. G.

DD: Flight vs invisibility because that was a very good kind of battle to come up with.

CG: My favorite part of English was when we would play those games and go against teams. Also when we would watch movies and answer questions. My other favorite part is when you would tell us something nobody knows.

I’ve received no word from the schools I interviewed at this week. My best guess is I’ll be returning here next year. So I packed my room up, filling my teacher closet and some lockers in the back of the room instead of filling up boxes and hauling them out.

Day 180: 090618
It was Ms. L’s last day here. Tomorrow she flies to Greece for the summer, and when she returns to New York City she will return to a middle school opening up in Harlem. Much like saying goodbye to the kids, it was anticlimactic. Also sad. I can’t even predict what it will be like next year without seeing her every day, as she has been such an integral part of my daily existence for the past two years. Don’t tell Ms. L, but I cried a little in the elevator after I left her in the room where she was proctoring.

Day 179: 090617
On my way into school this morning I saw DJe, a student from last year whom I adore. DJe spent his first semester with me in my fifth period. I maybe once threw a book directly at him because he was sleeping and ignoring me in front of the others and he maybe still teases me about it, each time to my deep embarrassment and fear that I may end up in teacher jail because of this momentary indiscretion. Come second semester, he was in my eighth period and the only one who showed up. Most days DJe and I would blow through the lesson with about ten minutes to spare, then we would sit around shooting the shit, waiting for the bell to ring so we could go home. DJe’s backstory is just as devastating as JC’s or GA’s, but he is proof that fucked up backstory doesn’t mean you grow up fucked up. DJe is growing up sweet, responsible and kind of goofy. We said goodbye on the sidewalk in the rainy morning.

Then AP A called me into her office to say I’ve been unexcessed. Huh.

I proctored the first session of the English Language Arts Regents examination this morning. Session 1 includes the listening passage, and my wards were ELL (English Language Learner) students, which means I had to read the passage out loud three times instead of just two. I’d like to say that halfway through the first time I was a little bored with Therapy Dogs (I read it so many times I memorized the website address). Also, the room was goddamn freezing cold. I had kids sitting in front of me physically shivering. Nothing can be done about this, however, so I advised them all to wear pants and sweatshirts tomorrow. I will not be wearing a skirt again as I, too, was shivering in the chill.

During my afternoon as “relief” for proctoring teachers, I was assigned to the room where half of my kiddies were taking the Math RCT. FR was happy to see me and wanted to know if I’d be back next year. I guess if you’re that toxic of a person you have to gloss over the bad feelings caused when you piss people off or else you would have no one to talk to. MB and QF were thrilled to see me: “It’s so good to see you again.” Then they each said goodbye to me another two or three times, all awkward like. Meanwhile, in my room, Ms. L babysat Ms. Pe’s son, who really likes books.

I had an amazing interview at an academically rigorous middle school in the south Bronx for a general education 8th grade ELA position. I talked to the hiring committee for an hour, which I suspect has to be a good thing. I would love to leave here.

Day 178: 090616
And so Regents week begins in ernest. I proctored a test this morning to non-special-ed students. It’s weird. The test only lasts three hours, the kids weren’t scheduled to take more than one test at the same time, they didn’t get the questions read over and over again. All I had to do was take attendance, read the directions and write the time on the board every fifteen minutes. I got some good reading done.

I had my first interview for a new job today—at a school that teaches Latin to its seventh and eighth graders, no less. Gotta love New York City because principals can be thirty-something barrel-chested men with Lenny Kravitz dreds halfway down their backs who believe Latin is the avenue to better students. I think the interview was going pretty well until it was made clear to me that the job required me to teach all four core subjects and I—honestly—revealed that I know shit all about math and science. The principal proposed an arrangement whereby I would teach ELA and history to sixth and seventh grade and the current seventh grade teacher would teach math and science to both grades. A promising suggestion, seeing as how the above-mentioned Principal Kravitz would alter his teaching program to get me onto staff.

Day 177: 090615
My official last day of teaching at this school has passed. Nothing says anticlimactic like watching kids finish essays and answer multiple-choice questions knowing full well that you’ll see a lot of them again during Regents Week. I passed out the certificates and candy bars for my students of the year, which was satisfying. Last year I didn’t do certificates and I’m sad to think of all those kiddos who were robbed of something pretty to show their parents. Heaven knows the candy bars don’t last long enough for any kind of show and tell. LJS, in a turn of events that surprises no one but himself, was not a student of the year. LJS comes in to class somewhere between on time and two minutes late, never takes notes, needs to be reminded to focus on anything and chitchats with the lovely SA (a rare girl in these classrooms) on a regular basis—and failed every marking period so far—and he’s suprised he’s not student of the year. God bless his relentless optimism and tenuous grasp on reality.

I had a couple awkward goodbyes today, from kids who know I’m not coming back and don’t know how to conduct a social interaction. Both QF and MB said goodbye to me about three times in a minute, clearly hoping for something more than my also saying “goodbye. I’m not a hugger, though, so I hope they were satisfied with winning student of the year—for most diligent and best class participation, respectively.

I had students in my room solid from third period through on until 3:45, desperately working to finish both parts of their final. I actually called Ms. L at the end of the day to remind ES and BU to come back to my room to finish their tests. I could hear BU moan loudly in the background when she passed on my message. But they needed to do well to pass, so I stand by my one last effort at making their lives uncomfortable. When they finished, I had another couple awkward goodbyes to tend to. Then it was me and DD, alone in the classroom again, as he finished up his final. Somehow appropriate that I walked out the door with DD on my last day.

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.

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.

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Update: New film picture on Day 166.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.

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

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

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

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

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

thanks for your attention to this matter.
Ms. G

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

_____________

Update: new film pictures on Day 144 and Day 149

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I need to do more presentations next year.

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

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

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

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.