1. Cortez, Eric and Derrick all got suspended today for freaking out on their teacher, cursing her and kicking her door in. They also ran around the building for about an hour. Once they got caught, they were all really pissed. Nobody answered the phone at Cortez's house so they sent him back to class. Pissed. And already suspended.
2. Chantea's mother told her not to eat school lunch anymore because it makes her stomach hurt. Chantea's mother, however, does not provide her with any food to replace it with. Chantea said she couldn't go in the cafeteria anymore because even though the food makes her stomach hurt, she's still HUNGRY and wants to EAT so she has to get away from the food. All week she's been sitting in my room eating my lunch instead.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Monday, January 18, 2010
When It Rips Your Heart Out
Sometimes things happen and I come home and write about them that day. Sometimes I forget to write it down and I'm reminded later on by a conversation and I'll write it down then. Sometimes I know I should write it down, it's just not possible at the time. It's been about a month since this happened, and it's pretty terrible.
Bianca has been in one of my 7th grade classes all year. She's always been incredibly sweet and a little silly. She's in 7th grade, "a little silly" is a godsend. Once I was talking to her language arts teacher about her being so great. Now, this particular teacher hates everyone (you, me, puppies, flowers) so I wasn't surprised when she rolled her eyes and launched into one of her "just you wait" speeches. But I was a little surprised that she had called Bianca's house. Turns out, Bianca is in a foster home. This teacher had called to discuss Bianca being silly. The foster mother had then told her that she had "better watch Bianca around the boys" and "don't let Bianca be alone with a boy or she'll have sex with them"...like in the hallway or a closet. Now this teacher had apparently took this information and labeled Bianca a crazy whore. I'll admit, it was a little shocking, but do I have to rent a fucking billboard?? ELEVEN YEAR OLDS DON'T JUST WAKE UP ONE DAY AND KNOW HOW TO HAVE SEX!!!!!!!!! Obviously she has some abuse in her past (or present). Obviously she needs counseling.
You know what she doesn't need? A teacher giving her the side eye every time she walks past a boy. I found out from this that I did need to pay more attention to what she was doing and who she was talking to, but listening to the obvious disgust coming out of this teacher's mouth, I find it hard to believe she's able to conceal it from Bianca.
So, that was about 2 months ago. I kindof took this information in stride, assigned seats so Bianca is away from distractions, kept my eye on her, etc. No big deal.
Two weeks before Christmas, I am on the 2nd floor and I hear screaming and yelling coming from the stairwell. A whole class is crowded in there, and Bianca and a boy are about to fight each other. I take the boy and someone else gets Bianca. Nothing had really happened, so the boy goes back to class. Bianca runs away screaming and crying. They call her foster mother.
20 minutes later, I see Bianca in the stairwell and she's still sobbing. She tells me that she doesn't want to see her foster mother, that she's going to run away. She tries to get away from me, but I put her in a bear hug-type embrace and won't let her go. She starts sobbing worse, still insisting she is going to run away. I see another teacher in the hallway, one that she is really close to. We take her into my classroom and almost immediately her foster mother walks in.
Bianca starts telling us that the boy had tried to push her down the stairs and she was yelling at him to stop. The foster mother, very calmly says, "You're lying, Bianca. I know you're lying. You always lie about stuff like this. Now tell us the truth." She starts sobbing worse and yelling, "I am telling the truth! I am telling the truth!" The foster mother continues to insinuate that this boy rejected her advances and that was why she was upset.
I walked out in the hallway because I just couldn't listen to it anymore. One of the office workers was walking by, and he asked me what was wrong (I was crying.) I told him and he said that he had somebody from the Department of Social Services in his office right at that moment, and she could come see the interaction.
They were in my classroom for over an hour while I stood in the hallway. Every now and then you would hear Bianca say, "I didn't fuck him! I swear I didn't fuck him!" and the foster mother often repeating her "You're lying" statement, in calm, almost detached voice.
Eventually I had to go back in. The lady from DSS was saying, "Bianca, do you want to stay in the house with (foster mom)? Remember, if you don't, you'll have to go somewhere far away and you won't be able to go to this school anymore or see any of your friends." Bianca said, "Yes, I want to stay."
This BITCH then says, "Bianca, I don't think you were nice enough about that. How about you ask (foster mom) in a polite tone?"
"Ms. (foster mom) can I please live with you?"
Foster mom says, "I guess. I don't know why you thought anything different."
Bianca says, "I just don't think you love me."
Foster mom: "Don't be ridiculous."
Bianca has been in one of my 7th grade classes all year. She's always been incredibly sweet and a little silly. She's in 7th grade, "a little silly" is a godsend. Once I was talking to her language arts teacher about her being so great. Now, this particular teacher hates everyone (you, me, puppies, flowers) so I wasn't surprised when she rolled her eyes and launched into one of her "just you wait" speeches. But I was a little surprised that she had called Bianca's house. Turns out, Bianca is in a foster home. This teacher had called to discuss Bianca being silly. The foster mother had then told her that she had "better watch Bianca around the boys" and "don't let Bianca be alone with a boy or she'll have sex with them"...like in the hallway or a closet. Now this teacher had apparently took this information and labeled Bianca a crazy whore. I'll admit, it was a little shocking, but do I have to rent a fucking billboard?? ELEVEN YEAR OLDS DON'T JUST WAKE UP ONE DAY AND KNOW HOW TO HAVE SEX!!!!!!!!! Obviously she has some abuse in her past (or present). Obviously she needs counseling.
You know what she doesn't need? A teacher giving her the side eye every time she walks past a boy. I found out from this that I did need to pay more attention to what she was doing and who she was talking to, but listening to the obvious disgust coming out of this teacher's mouth, I find it hard to believe she's able to conceal it from Bianca.
So, that was about 2 months ago. I kindof took this information in stride, assigned seats so Bianca is away from distractions, kept my eye on her, etc. No big deal.
Two weeks before Christmas, I am on the 2nd floor and I hear screaming and yelling coming from the stairwell. A whole class is crowded in there, and Bianca and a boy are about to fight each other. I take the boy and someone else gets Bianca. Nothing had really happened, so the boy goes back to class. Bianca runs away screaming and crying. They call her foster mother.
20 minutes later, I see Bianca in the stairwell and she's still sobbing. She tells me that she doesn't want to see her foster mother, that she's going to run away. She tries to get away from me, but I put her in a bear hug-type embrace and won't let her go. She starts sobbing worse, still insisting she is going to run away. I see another teacher in the hallway, one that she is really close to. We take her into my classroom and almost immediately her foster mother walks in.
Bianca starts telling us that the boy had tried to push her down the stairs and she was yelling at him to stop. The foster mother, very calmly says, "You're lying, Bianca. I know you're lying. You always lie about stuff like this. Now tell us the truth." She starts sobbing worse and yelling, "I am telling the truth! I am telling the truth!" The foster mother continues to insinuate that this boy rejected her advances and that was why she was upset.
I walked out in the hallway because I just couldn't listen to it anymore. One of the office workers was walking by, and he asked me what was wrong (I was crying.) I told him and he said that he had somebody from the Department of Social Services in his office right at that moment, and she could come see the interaction.
They were in my classroom for over an hour while I stood in the hallway. Every now and then you would hear Bianca say, "I didn't fuck him! I swear I didn't fuck him!" and the foster mother often repeating her "You're lying" statement, in calm, almost detached voice.
Eventually I had to go back in. The lady from DSS was saying, "Bianca, do you want to stay in the house with (foster mom)? Remember, if you don't, you'll have to go somewhere far away and you won't be able to go to this school anymore or see any of your friends." Bianca said, "Yes, I want to stay."
This BITCH then says, "Bianca, I don't think you were nice enough about that. How about you ask (foster mom) in a polite tone?"
"Ms. (foster mom) can I please live with you?"
Foster mom says, "I guess. I don't know why you thought anything different."
Bianca says, "I just don't think you love me."
Foster mom: "Don't be ridiculous."
Thursday, January 14, 2010
My Two Raekwons
Kids in America are over-medicated. I get it. However, there are a few kids in America who should have their medication pumping through the ventilation of their house, injected into their breakfast and sprayed on their clothes every morning.
One of these kids is Raekwon. In the morning when he comes in the door, I say "Good Morning, Raekwon!" When is medicated, he says "good morning!" When he is not medicated, he says, "OOOOOOOOOOOEEEEEEEEEEEEEEWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII YAYAYAYAYAYAYA OOOK OOOK WEEEEEEEE"
If, for some reason, I happen not to see him in the morning I know which Raekwon I'm getting before he even walks in the door for my class. There's the "I'm here to work" look and the "I'm here to ruin your life" look.
I wish when I went to the store to buy hand sanitizer, tissues, band-aids and air freshener for class, I could also pick up a little extra medication for the ruin your life days.
One of these kids is Raekwon. In the morning when he comes in the door, I say "Good Morning, Raekwon!" When is medicated, he says "good morning!" When he is not medicated, he says, "OOOOOOOOOOOEEEEEEEEEEEEEEWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII YAYAYAYAYAYAYA OOOK OOOK WEEEEEEEE"
If, for some reason, I happen not to see him in the morning I know which Raekwon I'm getting before he even walks in the door for my class. There's the "I'm here to work" look and the "I'm here to ruin your life" look.
I wish when I went to the store to buy hand sanitizer, tissues, band-aids and air freshener for class, I could also pick up a little extra medication for the ruin your life days.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
The MSA Diet
So we had a faculty meeting today and it was all the regular blah blah. (However she did reiterate that she will not be suspending kids for something as "little" as students cussing teachers out...awesome.)
But anyway, the point of this meeting was mostly to talk about the upcoming Maryland Standard Assessment (MSA) and how super duper important it is. We looked at how bad the kids failed their first two practice ones and we discussed strategies for the 3rd practice one to prepare for the real one in March. Yes, that's 4 standardized tests in both Math and Language Arts for those of you keeping score at home.
I have a feeling I'm going to be focusing a lot of hatred on the MSA preparation as these next two months progress (or, 30 school days according to my "Countdown to MSA" calendar). So, I'll just focus on one point today.
Today's ill will is focused on the Language Arts IST. I love her, she's great. I don't completely blame her for the crazy stuff she said to me; I think the testing is warping her brain. I've been teaching Social Studies (that other guy never left so I didn't get switched to Language Arts.) I kindof knew that I would soon have to switch into "Test Prep Mode" which means Nobody Cares About Social Studies Reinforce This Language Arts Stuff Immediately.
I go to the Language Arts IST, Ms. Freckles. I tell her I have some ideas using fairy tales and folk tales to teach the kids about main idea and blah blah and some such. She tells me no, this is not a good idea. Why is this not a good idea, Ms. Freckles?
"Because the readings on the MSA are not interesting, so they need to be reading things that are not interesting to get practice in."
Wait, Wait. I have to purposely teach them uninteresting things for TWO MONTHS so they'll be ready for testing. How about, HOW ABOUT, (I know, this is crazy) I get them USED TO READING so then these boring passages aren't that big of a deal?
Upon my expression disbelief and horror, she takes the tried and true method of someone who no longer teaches children. "Oh, it's not that hard. All you do is zippity do and whippity snap." She then proceeds to talk about how "when she was a teacher" something something something and amazingness pored out of her brain onto the kids and they just ate it up like candy.
I get it. Every person who used to teach but doesn't anymore was somehow the most bestest teacher in the history of teaching and they knew exactly what to do always and god you are such a moron for not being able to replicate my genius.
Well, guess what. To lose 50 pounds this month, ALL I HAVE TO DO IS stop eating and workout about 15 hours a day. Easy, right?
But anyway, the point of this meeting was mostly to talk about the upcoming Maryland Standard Assessment (MSA) and how super duper important it is. We looked at how bad the kids failed their first two practice ones and we discussed strategies for the 3rd practice one to prepare for the real one in March. Yes, that's 4 standardized tests in both Math and Language Arts for those of you keeping score at home.
I have a feeling I'm going to be focusing a lot of hatred on the MSA preparation as these next two months progress (or, 30 school days according to my "Countdown to MSA" calendar). So, I'll just focus on one point today.
Today's ill will is focused on the Language Arts IST. I love her, she's great. I don't completely blame her for the crazy stuff she said to me; I think the testing is warping her brain. I've been teaching Social Studies (that other guy never left so I didn't get switched to Language Arts.) I kindof knew that I would soon have to switch into "Test Prep Mode" which means Nobody Cares About Social Studies Reinforce This Language Arts Stuff Immediately.
I go to the Language Arts IST, Ms. Freckles. I tell her I have some ideas using fairy tales and folk tales to teach the kids about main idea and blah blah and some such. She tells me no, this is not a good idea. Why is this not a good idea, Ms. Freckles?
"Because the readings on the MSA are not interesting, so they need to be reading things that are not interesting to get practice in."
Wait, Wait. I have to purposely teach them uninteresting things for TWO MONTHS so they'll be ready for testing. How about, HOW ABOUT, (I know, this is crazy) I get them USED TO READING so then these boring passages aren't that big of a deal?
Upon my expression disbelief and horror, she takes the tried and true method of someone who no longer teaches children. "Oh, it's not that hard. All you do is zippity do and whippity snap." She then proceeds to talk about how "when she was a teacher" something something something and amazingness pored out of her brain onto the kids and they just ate it up like candy.
I get it. Every person who used to teach but doesn't anymore was somehow the most bestest teacher in the history of teaching and they knew exactly what to do always and god you are such a moron for not being able to replicate my genius.
Well, guess what. To lose 50 pounds this month, ALL I HAVE TO DO IS stop eating and workout about 15 hours a day. Easy, right?
Saturday, January 9, 2010
Bullying 2.0
So one of my kids has been walking around with a weird bandage on his stomach. He gets all vague and weird about it when an adult asks him, but he's holding court with the other kids giving details about whatever happened.
On Thursday, I walked up to him and asked him what happened. He hemmed and hawed and just kept saying he was okay. I told him he needed to be ready to tell me the whole truth on Friday.
Well, Friday comes around. He came up to me and said, "I'm ready to tell you now." We go into the hallway, and he tells me that over Christmas break, some high school boys had been following him and showing knives. They tried to rob him, but he fought back and "something happened" to his stomach. He said that on the way to school that day, they had followed him again and told him they would kill him and "put you in the vacants (houses)" He said he recognized the faces but he "doesn't think" he knows the names of these kids. It might be some of the kids who went to our school last year, it might not.
The whole conversation was filled with him evading answers and mumbling. He's afraid if he snitches on them, he'll get even more crap from them. Well, guess what. I get paid to snitch.
So I went to one of the ISTs (because her room is close to mine) and told her what was going on. I asked her to go tell Principal so we could do something about it. Principal called the school police and they took the kid up to their office and asked him about it. He told them everything (as far as I know.) We ended up calling his mother to come pick him up (so he wouldn't see the kids after school.)
We solved the problem for that moment, but I wish there was something more. It's a fine line to walk for me, because I want the kids to feel comfortable enough to share information with me, but I can't always keep their secrets.
Part of me knows that this one is still a kid and no matter how tough he acts, he told me the truth because he wanted me to do something about it. But I also know how scared they are of these assholes that bully and terrorize them.
I want to feel like I helped and did something good, but at the same time, I want to cry because it's not fair that this stuff happens in the first place.
On Thursday, I walked up to him and asked him what happened. He hemmed and hawed and just kept saying he was okay. I told him he needed to be ready to tell me the whole truth on Friday.
Well, Friday comes around. He came up to me and said, "I'm ready to tell you now." We go into the hallway, and he tells me that over Christmas break, some high school boys had been following him and showing knives. They tried to rob him, but he fought back and "something happened" to his stomach. He said that on the way to school that day, they had followed him again and told him they would kill him and "put you in the vacants (houses)" He said he recognized the faces but he "doesn't think" he knows the names of these kids. It might be some of the kids who went to our school last year, it might not.
The whole conversation was filled with him evading answers and mumbling. He's afraid if he snitches on them, he'll get even more crap from them. Well, guess what. I get paid to snitch.
So I went to one of the ISTs (because her room is close to mine) and told her what was going on. I asked her to go tell Principal so we could do something about it. Principal called the school police and they took the kid up to their office and asked him about it. He told them everything (as far as I know.) We ended up calling his mother to come pick him up (so he wouldn't see the kids after school.)
We solved the problem for that moment, but I wish there was something more. It's a fine line to walk for me, because I want the kids to feel comfortable enough to share information with me, but I can't always keep their secrets.
Part of me knows that this one is still a kid and no matter how tough he acts, he told me the truth because he wanted me to do something about it. But I also know how scared they are of these assholes that bully and terrorize them.
I want to feel like I helped and did something good, but at the same time, I want to cry because it's not fair that this stuff happens in the first place.
Friday, January 8, 2010
Monday, January 4, 2010
Thanks For All Your Help
So the first day back from Christmas break was pretty much terrible. I can make excuses about how the kids haven’t had any structure for two weeks and blah blah blah, but none of that really matters when I’m standing in front of the class and nobody gives a flying shit what I’m saying. It’s basically the most frustrating thing that has ever happened to me.
Nobody likes talking about being a failure, so it’s no fun to talk about those kinds of days.
But it did remind me of something that happened before break that I forgot to blog about.
So I went to two of the Instructional Support Teachers a few weeks ago about one of my classes. (The class of 3rd grade reading levels) I told them that this class doesn’t learn anything from me and I have no idea what to do with them. I told them that I need to seek out this because people see them sitting down in my room and not being crazy and just assume everything is going fine. But it is not. I’m a very well paid babysitter.
Their suggestions were about two or three different lesson plans (oh great, two whole days out of 180.) All of these involved me purchasing (with my own money) some time of food or craft or supply. I said, “So, for them to learn, I have to buy things?” One of the INSTRUCTIONAL SUPPORT TEACHERS says, “Well, you have to motivate them somehow.” Oh, okay. The other one, she used to teach in elementary school. So she tried to give me these holiday activities like word searches and building a graham cracker house. Oh, that’s wonderful, BUT THEY STILL AREN’T LEARNING ANYTHING.
They just say some words and hope I’ll go away.
Nobody likes talking about being a failure, so it’s no fun to talk about those kinds of days.
But it did remind me of something that happened before break that I forgot to blog about.
So I went to two of the Instructional Support Teachers a few weeks ago about one of my classes. (The class of 3rd grade reading levels) I told them that this class doesn’t learn anything from me and I have no idea what to do with them. I told them that I need to seek out this because people see them sitting down in my room and not being crazy and just assume everything is going fine. But it is not. I’m a very well paid babysitter.
Their suggestions were about two or three different lesson plans (oh great, two whole days out of 180.) All of these involved me purchasing (with my own money) some time of food or craft or supply. I said, “So, for them to learn, I have to buy things?” One of the INSTRUCTIONAL SUPPORT TEACHERS says, “Well, you have to motivate them somehow.” Oh, okay. The other one, she used to teach in elementary school. So she tried to give me these holiday activities like word searches and building a graham cracker house. Oh, that’s wonderful, BUT THEY STILL AREN’T LEARNING ANYTHING.
They just say some words and hope I’ll go away.
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
You Belong With Me
One afternoon I was taking some kids to the 7-11 during half-time of the high school football game. Brittany was sitting in the front seat playing with the music on my ipod.
Terrell was sitting in the seat directly behind me. Terrell is 15 years old and pretty badass.
In the rearview mirror I see Terrell gazing out the window and wistfully singing Taylor Swift. "She wears short skirts/I wear t-shirts/She's cheer captain and I'm on the bleachers."
No one was really paying attention to him and he was singing so quietly I wouldn't have noticed if I hadn't seen him in the rearview mirror. I watched him for a few seconds but I think one of the other kids saw me. They turned and said, "Terrell?" He seemed to come out of his Taylor Swift trance and he tried to play it off by screaming the lyrics and dancing around, but we all knew. The kids were all confused but I was dying laughing. They were traumatized.."But...but..how do you know the words?" "Terrell? What's going on?"
He told us he hears it on the radio which is his alarm clock. But we knew. The jig is up, Terrell.
Terrell was sitting in the seat directly behind me. Terrell is 15 years old and pretty badass.
In the rearview mirror I see Terrell gazing out the window and wistfully singing Taylor Swift. "She wears short skirts/I wear t-shirts/She's cheer captain and I'm on the bleachers."
No one was really paying attention to him and he was singing so quietly I wouldn't have noticed if I hadn't seen him in the rearview mirror. I watched him for a few seconds but I think one of the other kids saw me. They turned and said, "Terrell?" He seemed to come out of his Taylor Swift trance and he tried to play it off by screaming the lyrics and dancing around, but we all knew. The kids were all confused but I was dying laughing. They were traumatized.."But...but..how do you know the words?" "Terrell? What's going on?"
He told us he hears it on the radio which is his alarm clock. But we knew. The jig is up, Terrell.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
