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 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 8: October 14-17

081017: Day 32
This appears to be the week when our disappointing and heartbreaking school life turns out to be the most hilarious of black comedies. During our lunch meeting, Ms. P, Ms. P, Ms. L and I laughed at our students. Really hard, like crying hard. The affair involved impressions: Ms. L does a painfully accurate rendition of BU when he’s frustrated to the point of tears, Ms. P impersonated QF impersonating Stewie and, of course, she continued to do the best ever impression of LF, who has got to have tourettes syndrome. His tourettes is naturally one of the funniest parts of our day.

081016: Day 31
This is DD’s hat. His classmates stole it from him in order to “teach him a lesson.” Apparently DD is always stealing other kids’ things, and they were a little sick of it.

This hat was returned to me by one of those lesson-teachers just moments before I was planning on calling DD’s mother for another, unrelated incident. In this episode of DD Drives Us Crazy, DD was making a poster in Ms. P’s science class. He was using glue. While using this glue he pretended to be jerking off and made the bottle of Elmer’s come. I’m not sure how far the bottle came, but I know that the display disturbed Ms. P profoundly.

So I made my telephone call to DD’s mother, and ended up talking to his grandmother. I mentioned about the hat, how I had it, how he apparently is doing something to bring this stuff on himself, how he wasn’t in his eighth period class when I went to look for him to return his hat, and then realized I could in no way tell this kid’s grandma about the masturbation thing. So I called his mom’s cell phone, told her everything I told his grandma, and then we got around to his love toy, the glue bottle. I told the story with as little titillating language as possible. Mom was sufficiently shocked, and then I pretty much said, “Yeah . . . well, that’s it from this end. OK. Bye.”

081015: Day 30
Despite our not really doing anything today, it was eventful. We gave the PSAT to every student in the 9th, 10th, and 11th grades. “Never mind that it’s an eleventh grade test, let’s have everyone take it and waste a day of instruction!” we say.

I oversaw a room of 20 students with learning disabilities and emotional disturbances as they attempted to write and bubble in their personal information. This took at least twenty minutes longer than it was scheduled to. They do not know how to bubble. They do not understand they need to write their name and fill in the bubbles beneath the letters. To bake up a cake of fluffy Ms. G frustration combine this critical lack of understanding with another cup of stunning ineptitude, in the form of their inability to supply their home address without overly explicit instruction.

Student 1: “Should I write down Boulevard?”
Me: “Yes, include the number, the street name and St., Ave or Blvd. . . .”
Student 2: “What do you mean zip code?”
Student 3: “What zip code?”
Me: “Your zipcode!”
Student 3: “What is it?”
Me: “I don’t know your zipcode. The zipcode where you live!”

Oh, also, we had a faculty meeting at the end of the day and our principal told us she’s already had to give back $1.5 million and will probably have to give back another $1 million before the end of the October. So, that would be 10 staff jobs. But she’s just gonna stop ordering books and hiring substitutes instead of firing people. What a relief that is. Thank god I understand how all this works or I would be really nervous.

081014: Day 29
The elevator incident (080925: Day 20) came back around today. BB himself, however, has been discharged from Truman by his father and taken to Atlanta, making the primary witness as good as nonexistent. This hasn’t stopped the incident from giving me a small heart attack in terms of my own accountability and making me feel like advocating for my students means putting my own ass on the line.

I got a phone call thirty minutes after the last bell from the principal asking me who was on the elevator with BB–what other students, was I on the elevator–and I was unable to answer most of her questions. I do not remember who was on what elevator over two weeks ago. I know SS was on the elevator with BB. I know BB wrote the incident up and mentioned in his report that he could name other students who were witnesses. Not that we can ask him, once again, because he is gone. All of a sudden this has become a priority of my principal, now that it is functionally too late to do anything about it.

SS remembers what happens. The other students whom he remembers being on the elevator with him and BB remember nothing. I sent them down to room 260 so they could tell the AP of Pupil Personnel Services that they don’t remember anything. My AP doesn’t remember who was on the elevator, Ms. P doesn’t remember who was on the elevator, Ms. L doesn’t remember who was on the elevator. I’ve convinced myself that I must have been on the elevator but got off before the incident happened just so I can have a story to tell the principal. I am, however, suddenly the point person in this “investigation,” so I’m the one who looks like she has no idea where her students are.

The situation is appalling. Nothing is going to happen. For a brief moment something could have been done about a cruel school employee who is infamous for his inappropriate comments to students. It’s hard not to look at the situation and see deliberate administrative mishandling in order to avoid taking responsibility for this man’s actions. In order to avoid responsibility. Perhaps to pin that responsibility on me.