Week 41: June 22-26

Day 186: 090626
Another story in need of an ending: NR. I can’t explain how I feel about NR because I can’t nail it down. But I can say that we have an understanding. Not an understanding in the sense of an all-but-explicit deal, but an understanding in the sense of some deeper, weirder connection that evades description. There is no earthly reason for our getting each other, but we do. Anyway, about a week before the end of school, she just stopped coming. Last Monday, the last day of classes, she came in to say goodbye. Turns out she had spent the previous week in family court and the judge took custody away from her mother. Then she and her siblings were adopted—or put into foster care?—with a family in Connecticut. She seemed quite calm, perhaps bittersweet, about it. She was in the building because her new guardian was trying to arrange for her to take the Regents and RCTs even though she had been discharged from the school. I explained to her that she didn’t need them because she was in Connecticut and not New York anymore. She then said Connecticut was part of New York, and I was reminded of why knowing geography is actually important in the real world. We said goodbye. And I truly wish her the best in her new life.

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.

Week 40: June 15-19

Day 181: 090619
I arrived at school a couple hours early this morning in order to finish grading the kids’ finals. As I was waiting for the elevator, I ran into Principal N. She pulled me aside and told me I was safe for next year—just as AP A told me a couple mornings ago. She touched my face and told me not to interview anymore. A tad Corleone, but comforting, too. You know, comforting the way the abusive husband is after he beats the shit out of you.

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.

Week 31: April 6-8

090408: Day 137
Oh, how I hate the day before a vacation. I opted not to give a midterm and gave a “midterm” instead. Students had to complete a research poster outline in preparation for their final project for Aliens and Americans. I graded them on effort. (This was an awesome strategy, by the way, for getting me out of pretty much all grading for spring break). The longer the day went, the less the students worked. I understand; I can’t imagine how I would feel if I had taken six midterms in a day and then still had one or two left. I’d slow down, too. But oh, how they didn’t even try after third period!

In other events, BR made an off-color joke towards Ms. Po. They were talking about the fact that Ms. Po lives in the Bronx, and BR commented, “Good. I’m going to come to your house and rape you.”

Take a second with that one.

When BR made it to my room, he was outraged that Ms. Po took it so seriously. You know, because it was just a joke. When he retold the story to seventh period, including AR, RQ and SC, they all laughed. My heart sank. These are mostly nice boys and they are laughing about raping a teacher. I tried to explain that rape jokes aren’t appropriate in mixed company; they ignored me. Word on the street is that BR is also going to be suspended and is not allowed to return to Ms. Po’s classroom. Once again, I’ll believe it when I see it.

But wait, it gets worse. For Ms. L, this time. During her midterm in seventh period, BJ and NR were having some sort of argument. According to Ms. L, it looked like BJ was about to storm out of the room, but instead he doubled back behind her, grabbed the recycling bin and slammed it over NR’s head. As Ms. L turned around to see what was happening, the recycling bin slammed her in the jaw on its rebound from NR’s head. When she came to my wedding shower on Saturday, her face was still tender.

Ms. L, because she is a kind soul, thinks our school is poisoning BJ. Quite frankly, I blame NR more than the school. That girl could make anyone throw a trashcan at her. Anyway, see Day 61 for the day BJ punched AP L in the face. Obviously, though BJ seems quite sweet, he has a crazy-explosive anger problem. Ms. L had to fill out an accident report and AP L is going to try to get BJ a superintendent’s suspension, which would take him out of the school for up to 30 days and put him in an alternate site. Ms. L has to go to a trial for this. Given that Ms. L has already filled out official paperwork, this is one suspension I do believe is going to happen.

090407: Day 136
I almost couldn’t remember what happened today. That’s how banal sexual harassment and breathtaking displays of misbehavior have become.

I remember now, though. And boy does this memory come back with a bang. I had four kids removed from fourth period. Four! It was one of those incidents that I couldn’t even fully recreate for the dean’s report, so widespread and obnoxious was it. From my dean’s report:

Today in my fourth period, FR, LF, JCr and JC were not working and carrying on quite loudly. I asked school security for a dean because I could not hear the voice of a student who was sitting directly in front of me over their joking around.

FR was out of control for the entire period: he didn’t stop talking from the moment the lesson began through to when he was removed. JCr had moments of being on task, but was also talking throughout the entire lesson. Early in the lesson, a remark was made about “lefty,” which was clearly sexual in nature though I cannot exactly explain what it meant. Both JCr and FR repeated this lefty joke many times.

JC came in at 11:00 with a pass, but did no work when he arrived and began immediately to trade “your mother” jokes with JCr. During the trading of “your mother” jokes they began insulting the way people smell. LF got in on the act here and FR joined in as well. The four of them were laughing loudly and saying who smelled like what, including at one point saying that someone smelled like “LJS’s neck” referring to LJS, another student in the class. The conversation at another point shifted to include jokes about rape–I think in the context of how someone’s mother smelled. I wish I could remember exactly who was joking around about rape, but I cannot. My best recollection is that it was JCr, but I also heard the word rape repeated a lot in a couple of different voices.

JC consistently makes off-color jokes about other people’s mothers or sexuality. FR also consistently makes off-color remarks about people’s sexuality. Last week he asked CP if he had “popped that cherry yet” in reference to SA, who was just added to the class. LF as well often makes inappropriate sexual remarks, including calling out “Do you want a quickie” or simply saying “dick” and “pussy.” He has been better with this until today when he got in on the what-does-he-smell-like routine. JCr was only recently added to my roster, but he has done little work and a lot of disrupting since he has been in class.

I don’t find rape jokes funny. Particularly from fucking fourteen-year-old boys. Anyway, once these boys left the classroom, it was so peaceful. It was like when an asshole leaves the room and you feel the collective release of breath from everyone left.

Later in the day, I went to AP A’s office to make some photocopies for my kiddos’ research posters, and JC was there. JC is always in her office because he has decided he isn’t going to go to class anymore. AP A allows this, by the way. JC says to my face, “You are a liar,” and then asks to have some of AP A’s birthday cake. I shit you not. He called me a liar to my face and then got a piece of cake for it.

Later that day, Ms. Po copied me on an email she sent:

As an addition to Ms. G’s Dean Report, in regards to JC, JC came into my room yesterday (he has me after Ms. G) and was talking about how he got taken out of her class and said, “She’s lucky I don’t slap the shit out of her.”
While I recognize it was an “in the heat of the moment” comment, I thought that I would pass this information along.

Rumor has it JC is suspended, but I’ve received no suspension notice. I’ll believe it when I see it.

090406: Day 135
My dad and stepmom came to see me teach today. As anyone could have predicted, the kids were much better behaved than usual. JM went so far as to say that everyone had to be calmer because my dad and stepmom were there. He sounded disappointed. I bit my tongue so as not to offend him by telling him that, really, all students should be that respectful of all teachers ALL the time. Not just when our parents happen by the classroom.

My parents were amazed by the high expectations I have in my classroom—I often am, too, given the level of effort put forth by certain periods (fifth period: I’m talking about you).

I was afraid my parents were bored. They did see the exact same lesson three times in a row. But they said they had a good time. Hell, they got to see SS do some of his magic tricks. And they’re proud of me. Yay.

Week 30: March 30-April 3

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Week 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 24: February 9-13

090213, Friday the 13th: Day 103
For a couple days in a row DT showed up at the door for my seventh period class. I don’t have DT anymore, so I turned him away. Yesterday he was even escorted by security. DT said Ms. W(itch) kicked him out a few days ago, saying “Go back to G—.” I asked security to take DT to AP A, because I can’t take him into my class without a program change.

This morning, in the special education office, I followed up with AP A simply for the reason that I was not interested in kicking DT out of my classroom again. DT wrote up a report of what happened with Ms. W(itch), and said report was being sent down to AP P, the assistant principal of pupil personnel services (or something like that). Reports often lead to letters in the file, one of the very things that Ms. W(itch) is so concerned about. Clearly AP A has finished dealing with her through unofficial channels and is just letting the shit fly and land where it may.

I’m not sure of the truth in DT’s report. DT is the kid who said he was in family court when HC punched out a cop, a story whose veracity is easily torn apart. But he said Ms. W(itch) told him to “go back to G—” multiple times over the course of a couple days, which leads me to believe he isn’t making it up, per se.

If DT is telling the truth, what was Ms. W(itch) thinking? Did she expect me to cover her ass? If she was expecting that kind of solidarity, she really should have talked to me at any point in the past week instead of giving me the poop-eye all the time. My poor kiddos who are in her class now.

090212: Day 102
Ms. G, the guidance counselor for most of my kids, came to visit me today on behalf of MN. MN desperately wants back into my seventh period—and out of Ms. W(itch)’s. We went to AP A to discuss the situation, because I wasn’t comfortable just poaching kids from Ms. W(itch), especially because I consider MN one of the better kids in that section, and I knew the balancing of those sections was a delicate matter. AP A not so surprisingly said we couldn’t move him.

Unfortunately for MN, RQ had come to me the day before and asked to be let back in. I sent him to AP A who gave him the OK. Poor MN probably did it the right way, but RQ got to the assistant principal first. As of now, I have seven kids and Ms. W(itch) has six. She may even only have five, because I seem to remember JR showing me his schedule, which said he now has Ms. Wi for English.

Sadly, I suspect all the kids would come back to me if they could. This doesn’t have that much to do with me or Ms. W(itch), either. It’s simply a matter of change. They don’t like it.

090211: Day 101
JGi, a student of mine from last year, came by to say hi to me today. His family had moved to North Carolina, but they had to come back because his mom needed health care benefits that are only available here. He hung around for a couple minutes at most, and I swear he looks three years older. It’s amazing how fast high school students grow up.

090210: Day 100
I attended the union meeting after school. We’ll start with the good news first: the free Dunkin Donuts were delicious. And I got to have a glass of milk with mine, which was especially decadent.

Our district rep came and basically begged everyone to attend the big rally downtown on March 5th. If we do not show up with tens of thousands, she said, we will look weak before the mayor. If we look weak before the mayor, those 15,000 layoffs he’s considering look much more viable. Fifteen thousand layoffs, by the way, comes out to roughly every first, second and third-year teacher in the system. So, you know, me. And Ms. L. And Ms. Pe and Ms. V. And Mr. H, Mr. B, Ms. M, Ms. P, Ms. S, and on and on and on. I’ve resolved myself to going to the rally and enlisted Jeff.

I greeted Ms. W(itch) with cordiality—putting all shit aside in order to foster a collegiate working environment—and she remained icy. I then proceeded to feel like a traitor to the UFT for the rest of the meeting, which is admittedly insane. This kind of hypocrisy makes my skin crawl. Ms. W(itch), Mr. C, Ms. M, Crazy J (who has a real name, I just always call her that because of her diehard union stance and insane emails) and the district rep all speak of how administrations divide and conquer. But daily I encounter teachers who make the divisions all the more deep. Alert to Ms. W(itch): you are currently part of the problem!

Anyway, that’s not even the most horrible part of it. After all the talk of layoff and the rally, we moved on to school-specific issues. Ms. W(itch) mentioned a couple things that I had no knowledge of. (She seemed to expect me to magically know all of this and be “on her side” without question—but how would I know if she never told me?) One: she got three letters in her file in a week. Two: administration took away her deanship “to punish” her. Three: she had an administrator physically jump into her face and make her feel unsafe in coming to work on a daily basis.

This is the point in the storytelling that I became very uncomfortable. I know that administrator was my AP, AP A, and I know that AP A called me pretty well directly after the confrontation Ms. W(itch) described. I will not defend AP A for getting into Ms. W(itch)’s face, but I also know exactly how Ms. W(itch) approached her because she approached AP A the same way she approached me: telling us the way it was without a second’s thought to our perspective.

I also find it hard to believe that Ms. W(itch) got half of my seventh period as part of her “punishment,” as she contends. If she did get my kids as punishment, then I say that’s a big Fuck You from the administration to me, too—because obviously I’ve been receiving severe punishment for a full semester.

During her monologue of agony, Ms. W(itch) actually started to choke up. I felt bad for her—I had no idea about her losing her dean’s post, which means losing money—but also that much angrier at her. She came at me, AP A and Ms. L with boatloads of attitude and then felt threatened when a little of it came back at her. You can’t go into rooms yelling at people and then get uppity if a little anger comes back to you.

Oh, worst part? The kids know Ms. W(itch) doesn’t want them. MN has told me three days in a row that she hates him. JR and others overheard her in the hall telling AP A that she was being punished by getting all the kids I can’t handle—that’s right, she’s slinging the shit at me, too. And she won’t let me talk to her, even about the kids, so I don’t know how to help them.

090209: Day 99
First day with my seventh period broken in half. I was standing in the hallway, waiting for my students to arrive. And waiting and waiting. They have a tendency to be pretty late—each one of those who is left. AR came down the hallway with a lissome and smiley young lady. It was clear he was courting her. He gave me a look that said “keep it cool,” but I fucked it up. I said hi to him—and as a teacher, there was no way I could be cool.

AR took it all in stride. He shook his head and smiled at me, walked past my door, thus past the class he had next, and the girl barely noticed. Charming though it was, he was late to class.

Week 23: February 2-6

090206: Day 98
It is clear that the events of this school year are my school’s death throes. We are all, students and teachers, little lysosomes, oozing enzymes to digest the dying tissues. Too bad it’s all dying tissue.

Ms. W(itch) came into my room during eighth period and accused me of giving her only the behavior problems, implying I was out to fuck her over. I attempted to explain that the section we were dividing was only students with behavior problems (and not even all of them, at that)—and thus she got half the behavior problems while I kept the other half. She then told me that I was giving her all the students from my fourth period who made me drop the F-bomb. If she would have let me speak before getting in her last word and walking out, I could have told her that, in fact, none of the students in the section AP A asked me to split up were in my fourth period save one: BR. And, when asked which half of the section I wanted to keep, I chose to keep the half with BR. So, she would have had NONE of the students from my fourth period. I could also have explained that she is getting two A students and one solid B student in the bargain, while I think I was only taking one student who passed last semester. Too bad she thinks she knows more about what happens in my classes and about my students than I do.

Apparently, she’s going to go to the union about the matter. To which I say, ok—the only truth that will come out is the truth I attempted to tell her. AP A asked me on my way out if I would be willing to swap sections with Ms. W(itch), to prove that the split was fair. I agreed because the split was fair. As it is now, I’ve lost JR and MN—which breaks my heart—but I’ve also lost DT, which is awesome. If we reverse the sections, I’ll lose AR and BR—which will break my heart—but I’ll lose SC, which is awesome.

The worst part of splitting the section is what it’s doing to the kids. I spent a lot of eighth period with JR, who refused to go to Ms. Po’s class because he knows he’s going to be switched out of it starting Monday. What we are doing to these kids is the definition of shuffling problems around in order not to deal with them. And they know. JR told me he just wanted things to go back to the way they were. Even without the regrouping of our students, things can never go back to the way they were: Ms. Pe is gone. Ms. L and I are a hair’s breadth from being gone. The school is returning money left and right. And the system doesn’t care what it does to JR. Or MN, BR, JO or AR.

JR said he was going to tell his mother to send him back to Jamaica if they didn’t change his schedule back. I suggested that if that would be a better education for him, he should do it. He said it wouldn’t be better.

JR has nowhere to go. He’s fucked in the Bronx; he’d be fucked in Jamaica. He stood in my doorway, unable to stay and unable to leave.

090205: Day 97
Ahem, I kicked another two students out of seventh period today. DT and SC: screw those kids, they had to go. After they left, the period was much easier, and the relief of the remaining students was clear. It’s easier to be both ruthless and rewarding with the new section set up. With all the behavior problem students together, I feel less guilty having a couple removed because that action sends a clear example to the others and having any student buck authority in that class leads to their downward spiral. It’s also much easier to reward students. I can give rewards for the smallest good things—coming on time, paying attention to me and making eye contact, good group work—without having “good” students feel jilted because they aren’t rewarded every day for doing just those things.

Then I got a phone call eighth period from AP A and Principal N asking me to split that section in half. In order to save jobs, AP A wants to split up the behavior-problem section to create two sections. I see the benefit in this: the fewer of those kids you have together, the easier it will be to control them and thus for them to learn. Our problem in the house has been there are too many of them to separate with only five sections to work with. With the new plan, Ms. W(itch), who taught freshman last year and is known for her iron fist, will get half of my seventh period and I will keep the other half. Similarly, Ms. Po, Ms. L and Mr. P (new math teacher for the house) will have their behavior-problem sections split and given to other teachers in the department.

I made a list that splits the section as evenly as possible: equal numbers of LTAs in each section, kids I want to keep in each section, and a kid I want to get rid of in each section. I didn’t think I would get to choose which section to keep, so I wasn’t so into making it an uneven split.

Of course, the moment we start to get a handle on all the changes in the house, we have to make more. I don’t want to give away any of my students. Though I have power over them, I don’t have any such power when it comes to administration.

090204: Day 96
I’m teaching one of my favorite units now—yet another reason I would not like to be excessed—”Flight v. Invisibility.” In the course of the unit, students research movies, comics books, and TV shows to answer the question: Which superpower is better, flight or invisibility? The question engages nearly every student, the research sources are immediately captivating as they are all part of the fabric of our nation’s pop culture, and we get to write essays. Granted, perhaps it is only I who enjoy the essay part, but so what! This is also the second time I’ve taught this unit, so I feel organized and competent.

The assignment today had the students working in small groups to brainstorm the pros and cons of flight or invisibility. Seventh period today? Great! They were kind of crazy, but they did perhaps the best job on their brainstorming of any class. This fact isn’t surprising, as all the students in there are quite bright and very creative. This tracking thing could work—for all my students.

On an unrelated note, a story about DD and LF. The two of them like to loiter around the teacher elevator at the end of the day, hoping to catch a ride down. They tried to hitch a ride down today as Ms. Pe, Ms. L and I were walking out. We were talking about students—a conversation I wasn’t keen to stop—so I told them they could not ride down with us. DD literally stood in the doorway of the elevator, trying to force his way on, as we explained that he and LF could not ride with us. I can’t imagine we actually pushed DD, but perhaps we did, as they did not ride the elevator down. Why would I do favors for kids who come 25 minutes late to class?

090203: Day 95
First day of the new semester. We arranged to have our kids grouped in such a way as to put the high-functioning students together in one section and isolate the behavior problems in another. I suppose you could call this “tracking,” but tracking is such an ugly and political word. Of course, the whole situation with the freshman is ugly, so perhaps we should just call a spade a spade: we tracked the kids. And we did it because we had to do something to save both our own sanity as teachers and improve the educations of all our other students who care enough to shut up when asked.

The students in the behavior problems section figured shit out pretty quickly. They’re angry. Most of them said something like they couldn’t learn in this class with all the bad kids. Bad kids was their term, not mine. I have little to no sympathy for this. They can’t learn? Ironic they should be so sensitive to misbehavior when their own persistent misbehavior impeded the learning of countless students last semester. Not so much fun for them when the shoe is on the other foot. Ha ha!

I have the behavior-problem section seventh period (forget fourth, they’ve been largely disbanded and dispersed—seventh shall be my new Everest). Today—first day of class—I kicked out two students. Peace out, GA and JO. Turns out I have more power than you.

090202: Day 94
Professional Development seems to always leave me dissatisfied. My time could be better spent lesson planning. I did get to paint with watercolors and dance salsa, though. Before slugging my way through yet another pointless department meeting.

Normally, department meetings consist of our AP giving us the party line as to our responsibilities and the faculty complaining long and loud about something stupid—parking regulations, time-clock/time-card injustices, vagaries of school policy. The meeting today began as expected: AP A once again exhorting us to call homes, call homes, call homes for the students who were LTA (long-term absences). And to log the calls on Daedalus, a piece-of-crap software program that seems to be only good for logging phone calls.

Dean C, for the first time in my memory of special education bitch sessions, spoke out on the underlying issues, not just the bullshit. Dean C suggested that, as experience proves phone calls home do not bring the students back, the school should address the reasons why students do not want to come. Say, the lack of community in the school or the unwelcoming atmosphere. The department immediately remembered why Dean C inspires love in everyone he meets (and it’s not the fact that he’s gorgeous). AP A responded by saying we need to call home and log the calls on Daedalus.

Mr. K took up the standard and confronted AP A with the culture of fear and lack of transparency in the school: “Just the tone of your voice shows how afraid everyone is in this building.” I’m certainly afraid: my job is not secure. In fact, I spent my day worrying that I would be excessed, perhaps along with Ms. L. AP A responded by saying we need to call home and log the calls on Daedalus.

Our school is out of money. The teachers are so fed up they are actually talking about the real problems, which is not typical in the building. Many are planning on leaving at the end of the year. I’m waiting to see if we get word any time soon that our school is on the to-be-closed list.

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 4: September 15-19

080919: Day 16
We read Bush Makes Surprise Visit to Work, from The Onion, which was met with mixed reactions. JC, who has Asperger’s, had a bit of a hard time picking up on the sarcasm and exaggeration. MN, however, had already made my day near the end of first period when he said, “I think I know what satire is now.” Fourth period was a meltdown. Fifth period, once again, renewed my faith in students. And seventh period was blessedly easy without the bipolar presence of EH.

080918: Day 15
AP A joked at the beginning of the year that our kids need more attention than your average high school students: “They’d follow you into the bathroom if they could.” It’s worse with the 9th graders than ever it was with 10th or 12th. I’ve taken to covering the windows on the doors to my classroom with paper in the morning and hanging a sign that says “I will not open the door until the 5 minute bell rings.” Still, LE and CT (sweetie, from last year) knock of my door. LE yells, “Good morning Ms. G!” and knocks again. I ignore him.

Almost as bad, but not quite, at the end of the day CP comes in to “fix his binder.” (This has happened more than once this week.) I tell him, straight out, he can’t stay because I’m trying to leave. Usually I have more work to do, but it’s better to go home anyway.

080917: Day 14
Shattered glass as visual metaphor: our students are coming into ever more dramatic relief. It’s almost impossible to believe that there was ever a time I couldn’t tell them apart.

Ms. L has had a dean intervene in her seventh period because DJ and AR were about to get into a fist fight. Seventh period, incidentally, was the period that she invited the police officer into so the kids could get a lecture about proper behavior.

I had an incident with DJ as well when he was escorted into my class 20 minutes late by another police officer. How we ever believed DJ when he told us that he was anxious to do well, to get on our good side, to be student of the month . . .

080916: Day 13
Few things as beautiful as a newly made bed at the end of a long day.

080915: Day 12
I am bereft of goodwill and interest in my Designs for Learning class at Mercy. The professor is perhaps the most boring man alive. Also ineffectual. My classmates have taken to smacktalking one another. Worst of all, they are shittalking their students like it’s funny. I have three more months of it.