Insane Halloween Homecoming Week

I'm so glad it's Friday. This was a trying week. The students bordered on insanity, feverish with homecoming excitement. They got to dress in different theme costumes all week. Which do you think was more exciting to them, The Old Man and the Sea, or Donovan's purple hair and skirt (he's a guy)?

This afternoon, there was a pep rally. My ears are still vibrating from the screams and pounding of the stands. The boys nominated for the homecoming court dressed up as pretty women and paraded across the gym, swishing their butts and chests, balancing on wobbly heels.

Earlier today, one of my female students was spotted by another teacher, pressed into a corner of the empty hallway of the main school building, wrapped in the arms of some panting bad boy, one of her legs wrapped around his waist, getting very hot and heavy. The teacher who saw her said she thought they were actually doing it. She got five days out of school suspension. At least my students last week did it in the restroom.

Just when you think you've seen it all. . .

Before the incident on Wednesday, my student P. had already been in ISS and 0SS several times this semester. I've heard rumors that the administration is watching him closely because of past drug issues. He's one of those flamboyant students who sucks all the energy out of the room when he enters. Posturing his way to his seat, he can't resist making a commotion or commenting loudly on someone's outfit. His last write-up from me was for leaving the classroom to "use the bathroom" in the foyer of the portable, but never returning because he slipped through the adjacent empty classroom and out the door.

On Wednesday, he left the classroom "to use the bathroom." Because of his recent behavior, my teacher radar was on high alert. Five or seven minutes later, I sensed he had been gone too long. I usually don't question students' personal bathroom needs---believe me, they come back to class and share details that no one wants to hear!---but with P's track record, I sensed something was up. I decided to wait a few more minutes before resorting to pounding on the door, so I passed back papers that students would need for our pending visit to the computer lab.

That's when I noticed that Brittany was missing! I had her paper ín my hand, ready to pass it back. She had been in class. Now she was missing. Oh, so busted!

I pounded on the bathroom door. An incomprehensible grunt was the only response. While the other students excitedly looked on, giddy with the possibilities, I stood outside the bathroom door, arms folded, waiting.

Sound of toilet flushing. The door swung open and P. brushed rudely by me, slamming the door closed behind him. I marched to the bathroom, pulled open the door, and saw nothing in the darkened room. So I stepped in, and looked around the corner which cannot be seen from the outside. Brittany was cowering in the corner. That's one rule I forgot to put on the syllabus: Do not do the deed in the restroom during class time.

To date, Brittany has been a quiet, well-behaved girl who gets good grades and has plans for the future. Oh, shades of being 14! How easy it is to forget everything rational when falling under the spell of a smooth-talking, self-assured, 16-year-old gang member wannabe!

P. swaggered back into the classroom declaring, "I hope they send me to the alternative school!" The other students were mesmerized by the whole drama. One sweet, naive little girl in my class, who may have Asperberger's, asked me innocently, "Why were they both in there? What were they doing?" When the bell rang, the other students lost no time in spreading the story through the school.

After receiving my electronic write-up that day, the AP stopped by to ask more questions. How long had they been gone? Did I knock on the door? Did they respond? Would I please write up a formal statement for them?

The next day, neither P. nor Brittany were in school. Brittany was awarded 5 days OSS. I believe she'd never been in trouble before. P., on the other hand, is on OSS but I suspect OSS-pending-expulsion. I would not be upset if he did not return. There are too many students filling up classrooms who do not want to be there and who create havoc for those who want to learn. Why does the system continue to keep them? Every class, I have one or two who command all my attention just for being bad. The quiet ones get neglected. As you can see, I'm growing burned out by the few rude, loud, boorish students who inhabit my classes. This semester, I happen to have a disproportionate number of bad seeds. What a terrible attitude for a teacher. But you'd have to meet them. I thought I could keep my sense of humor enough to get through a few more years of this, but now I'm wondering if I can do it.

I haven't written in the blog for awhile because I am burned out. I get up at 5:15 each day, now that school begins at 7:40 a.m. We teachers are supposed to sign in by 7:30 a.m., whether we have a first block class or not. I have first block planning, during which I'm photocopying, grading, meeting with parents, or entering grades on PowerTeacher, followed by three 90-minute classes in a row. I get 25 minutes during 3rd block to gulp down a few bites before the kids return from lunch. After school, if I'm not going to the house of my homebound student (which is a bright spot because he is a smart, eager to learn, well-behaved gem of a student), there is either a faculty meeting, a parent meeting, students making up missed tests, or some type of school duty. On the way home, I stop at the store nearly every day for some crucial missing item that we've run out of (voice mail message: "Mom, we're out of coffee creamer!"). When I arrive home, Paul wants to go over his coursework with me and get my input on his answers, essays, etc., so we work together, and of course, I want to help him; that's the teacher in me. Finally, between printing more materials for tomorrow's class from my own printer, reading ahead, grading, etc., it's now 9 o'clock. I treat myself to a few minutes of Larry King before falling asleep and repeating the same thing the next day! Yes, I am burned out. Liberto is burned out too, but at least he has evenings and weekends to regroup. He doesn't have to bring work home with him... well, only in his mind, which is just as annoying, I guess.


Now that I've vented, I'll look at the bright side: 1) we're past the mid-point of the semester and heading towards the finish line. At least with my profession, I get to have a beginning, middle, and end. Then a brand new beginning! 2) Next semester, I have third block planning, so I get a break in the middle of the day and maybe some lunch. I also have one 11th grade class, which I want to believe will be more mature than a ninth grade class. Maybe by 11th grade they've gotten over throwing spit balls and stuffing the toilet with papertowels. 3) I'm grateful to have a job in a bad economy. 4)Next weekend is our friend C.G's annual Halloween party, which we've been attending for years. I could dress up as...a crabby English teacher. Prop: A giant red pen!

I know I talk too much about work in my blogs, but right now the daily grind overshadows everything else. Still hoping for that winning Fantasy Five.

Things happen in threes

Since last week when we learned that both Zaira and Grelia had been robbed and burgled on the same day, I'd had this odd, waiting-for-the-other-shoe-to-drop feeling. Things happen in three's in ancient fables, myths, and fairy tales, right?
On Saturday afternoon, Liberto discovered that his car, right in our own driveway, had been broken into and a laptop and Ipod stolen. It was the City of Savannah's $1500 laptop. He had come home early Friday, in pain, with back problems, and headed straight to bed. He took a few painkillers, which he reserves for only the worst pain days and when he's at home and won't have to drive. According to the police, 16 homes in our subdivision were burglarized on Friday night. For the next few stormy hours, as he filled the house with his angst-filled vibes, I reminded him that our homeowner's insurance would cover it. Later, the police had good news. Liberto was overjoyed to learn that the burglars had dumped the laptop at another home they were burglarizing. They must have realized it was a City laptop and they would not be able to enter it without a fingerprint. L's fingerprint is the sole admission onto that computer. The case and the cord are still missing, but they're less important than the laptop with all its sensitive files.

If things happen in three's, I'm due to win Fantasy Five sometime soon. Over the past few months, I've won 4 out of 5 numbers twice, which is a couple hundred dollars, nothing to sneeze at, but when this third time comes up, let's make it 5 out of 5, with a jackpot of a couple hundred thousand.

Fish for dinner last night

The fish we had for dinner last night was delectable, tender, flavorful, and fresh! Liberto's afternoon on the boat was time well spent.

Bizarre coincidence in North and South America

Last night, Liberto's cousin Carlos called at 9 p.m. I was sleeping soundly in the easy chair, having missed the entire movie we were watching, a terrific foreign film about WWII in Poland. Liberto kept repeating "Conyo" which I've come to know well as the Spanish equivalent of s----. When he got off the phone, he told me that his sister, Zaira, had been held up at gunpoint that day in front of the Chacon family home in Caracas. Metal-barrel-right-on-the-forehead kind of gunpoint. The guy then pealed away in her car. Thankfully, that was the only harm done. Later, through GPS tracking, the police found the car abandoned on some street. If that weren't bad enough. . . Liberto immediately phoned the familia to ask about it. Not only had Zaira been held up that day, his sister, Grelia, who lives in Coral Gables, Florida, had her car stolen that day too. Gina, the third sister, was visiting from Caracas, and all her money was in that stolen car. Now she's penniless. I'm not sure how much Grelia can help her out financially right now, since she and her husband are struggling with unemployment and cut work hours.
Next week, Liberto is going to take a few days off and drive to Florida on Thursday to spend a long weekend with his sisters.

Some of the students in my classes are getting on my nerves in a big way. I hate the concept that even though they do not want to be there and do not want to learn, it's my job to force them to want to, somehow. On Thursday, J., one of the 4th block troublemakers, came in at the beginning of class, shouting "What the F-----? What the F-----?" at the top of his voice. I went right to the computer and wrote him up, requesting, PLEASE remove this student asap! Five minutes later, the intercom came on, summoning him to the office. Another one of the chronic repeater-troublemakers was absent that day because he had to do community service for an arrest. Without the two of them, the class was the best and quietest I've seen all semester.

I have another student in the second block class who has proven difficult. She is always tardy, and then makes the grand entrance, running her mouth loudly as she comes in. She blurts out constantly, talks, and doesn't do the work, even though she's smart. I've given her alternative assignments to make them more challenging, but she doesn't do anything. She sits with a defiant expression, like a child saying "You can't make me!" I've already phoned her parent, and now I've set up a parent-teacher-guidance counselor meeting. In fact, I've had the guidance counselor set up a lot of parent meetings for next week. This semester, I seem to have a lot of students with behavior issues, academic issues, or both. I wonder if it's just bad luck of the draw. I went to observe a male teacher who teaches 9th grade comp lit, because I wanted to see his approach. His students did not say one word even before he walked into the classroom. They sat in their seats in complete silence, not once turning to each other for chitchat. My students would never enter my classroom and sit in silence if I was not there. I'm going to drop in on some other ninth grade teachers' classes just to see how their classes behave. I'm honestly not sure anymore what is supposed to be "normal" as far as the degree of silence.

Shawn called again a few nights ago. He's doing well, and says they get "lots" of sleep every night, from about 9 p.m. till four or five in the morning. He said about 25% of the initial group has dropped out.

This morning, Tom, a colleague, unexpectedly phoned Liberto and invited him to go shrimping for the day. Since it's a beautiful, cool, sunny day, Liberto abruptly cancelled his plans to go to the office to finish a sideline project he's been hired to do. I, on the other hand, will race against time trying to read Killing Mr. Griffin and Old Man and the Sea, for class, as well as planning activities, and grading papers.