The Class of 2009

Well, sorry that I haven't been blogging. Sometimes I just don't feel like there is anything to say. Or sometimes there is something to say, and I feel like I *should* blog it, and then I get mad because I think the blog is holding me down...clearly I have commitment issues.
Anyway, I'm teaching my 8th graders. My children. I love the others too, but I really have a special relationship with these guys. The other ones are good and cute and smart. These guys have issues out the wazoo. Most of them seem to have Multiple Personality Disorder. They are either laughing, crying or screaming, with really no in-between. I like the crazies, what can I say.
For me, this is further proof that I could never work at a regular school. Teaching kids who wait patiently for directions and do all their work? Boring. Finding out why Nina won't stop crying, forcing Taurus to sit in my room so he won't fight Darrell, giving Mason food, trying to figure out ways to trick them into doing work without it seeming like work, letting Akil do his Black History paper on George Jackson and the Black Guerilla Family so he can learn that gang origins started with social change not the drug trade, engaging in psychological warfare so I don't have to yell but I can still get them to be quiet, grabbing ears, making sure Nikeal and Deonte don't try to make out when we go to the library, just getting them to pay attention for 5 straight minutes...man, I love that stuff. I don't know what that says about me. I guess I need kids who need me right back.
I'm also in charge of getting all their 8th grade activities together. In Baltimore, 8th grade is like 12th grade. 8th grade graduation is a big deal, they have a prom, the works. At first, I thought this was ridiculous, that you were basically giving them a reason to drop out. But I'm okay with it now. Baltimore is also different because you have to apply and be accepted to the high schools. So, most of these kids won't see each other anymore after this year. But most importantly, *I* won't see them after this year. It's going to be terrible. I've gotten too attached. I know it.
There's this scene in "The Wire" where the assistant principal tells Prez to get his own kids and stop worrying about his students, because they'll go their own way and there's plenty more behind them. I find this both true and really, really depressing.