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 39: June 8-12

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Week 37: May 26-29

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Week 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 25: February 23-27

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Week 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 20: January 12-16

090116: Day 84
Bad day.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Week 19: January 5-9

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Any questions about how bad the situation is?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

——
Update: New film picture on Day 76.

Week 18: December 22-23

081223: Day 76
The DOE is a cruel mistress, keeping school in session this Monday and Tuesday. Moreover, my principal is a cruel mistress for asking (requiring?) all her teachers to give tests on Tuesday. Or maybe we were supposed to give tests Monday and Tuesday. It is of no matter now, though, as it is over.

The idea behind giving tests right before vacations is that they will encourage attendance on days when everyone knows the students are not going to come. This is no more an encouragement for attendance than telling kids they must attend class on the Tuesday before Christmas because that’s the only day we can pull their fingernails out with pliers.

So my day was spent dealing with grumpy, emotionally disturbed students (many of whom I have really grown to hate) who wanted nothing more than to do absolutely nothing, eat free food (CG, to me: You didn’t bring no cookies? Me to CG: You didn’t bring no cookies?) and bitch about the tests they had to take.

Vacation did not come soon enough.

081222: Day 75
Movie day! Ms. Pe and I took the kids who earned the most points on the behavior rubric (See Day 70) from last week to see “Seven Pounds.” While the movie was kind of awful, despite its having Will Smith, the kids had a really good time. And I didn’t have to teach two of my five classes—we left after fourth period—so I was pretty happy.

I have some pangs of guilt when it comes to Ms. L, who stayed behind and taught all of our kids for periods five-eight. All of them except for the twenty best-behaved. I am a horrible person and left no work for my fifth and seventh periods to do, thus forcing them to work on her trial of Andrew Jackson project for two periods. And also forcing Ms. L to deal with their having to work on her project for two periods. According to her, period five was fine, but periods “seven and eight were train wrecks.”

So, to Ms. L: Sorry. If it’s any consolation, the movie theater was freezing cold. We all had to wear our jackets to stay warm enough. And, like I said, the movie kinda sucked.