I have always been told that the first person you should befriend when working for a school is the janitor. That person, if they like you, can make your life much easier. They can see that you have what you need as far as supplies go, and if they like you, you will most defiantly get perks. For example, at the school I was at last year I was the only one to receive a much sought after, state of the are solid metal pencil sharpened. On top of that, I got it installed the same day I requested it. For those of you who are not familiar with the way a school janitor operates, this is almost unheard of. There are forms and wait lists, and then you have to re-fill out the forms because someone lost the original form. I was most defiantly on the janitors good teacher list. Let us put aside for a moment that it was a woman janitor.
I was filled with hope as I started my new job that I would be just as lucky at this school.
Day 1: I am shown my classroom, and then told I had to move it eight doors down. It was then that I met Mr. Kim. Mr. Kim is a middle aged Asian man with a thick accent, and Mr. Kim is assigned to help me with the task of moving an entire classroom. Mr. Kim does not seem happy about this assignment. This is not the way to get on the good teacher list.
As we set to work, I quickly discover that Mr. Kim is missing a since of humor. This is defiantly not looking good for me. I wonder if he had one at one time, or did he lose it over the years of scraping gum off walls, and vomit out of the slide.
As we work, I talk, and I notice that often Mr. Kim stops to look at me with his eyebrow up and a look of disgust on his face. This is followed by a slow shake of his head. He seems to be saying, crazy white lady.
Day 2: The moving continues. I arrive early to get a jump on things, and find Mr. Kim has called in sick. I am left, unsupervised, to decided what I should take to my new classroom. The principal said I could take everything that wasn't nailed down, so I got to work. I spy a coat rack in the corner and stop to evaluate. It isn't nailed down...it's bolted. Does that count.? I say no. With tools I brought from home I set my aid to the task of removing the coat rack, that defiantly wasn't nailed down.
Day 3: Mr. Kim stops by my room, and a ask him to hang up my ill gotten coat rack. He stares at it in disbelief, and says "How you get this off wall? It was on good." I held up the screwdriver and smiled. He shakes his head and raises his eyebrows at me...crazy white woman.
I decide to leave Mr. Kim alone for a few days. Maybe some time away from me will convince him I am a super swell person, and that I should go on the good teacher list. I REALLY want to be on the good teacher list. I wave and smile each time I see Mr. Kim, but he has resorted to shaking his head at me each time I see him....crazy white lady. I'm doomed...
Yesterday I come in to find ants have invaded my room. There are so many that my box of half eaten cheese its looks as though it is moving across my desk. I must take care of this on my own. I will not bother Mr. Kim with this, but I have no luck. There are too many of them. I decide to email the school secretary. She likes me. I explain that although I once defended a small village in the Amazon basin from a hoard of ferocious army ants using only a hoe and a large glass of water, I am defeated here. Before I can stop her, she calls Mr. Kim.
He walks into my room like and asian John Wayne. A can of spray on each side of his gun belt. Hands at the ready. He stands in the door way with the light behind him putting him in shadow. He may have been chewing the stump of a cigar, but I can't be completely sure on that point. I defiantly hear wah, wah, wahhhhh as he walks in. This is my chance to redeem myself. This is what janitors are made for. He is in his element.
I walk to the desk, where they had been the worst,...and...wait...they are gone!!!! What!!! Where did they go??? No, no, no, they can't be gone!! I run to the sink where they had been equally as bad. They are gone there too. Nnnnooooooo. Mr. Kim looks around and says "This no infestation. They said you have infestation." He shakes his head and raises one eyebrow...crazy white woman. He leaves, and I am now officially never going on the good teacher list. In fact, I think I have been put on the crazy teacher list permanently. Sigh...
Thirty minuets later I walk over to my desk, and the ants have returned. I can hear them laughing at me, and I think one of them actually gave me the finger. It is a conspiracy. I am never going to be on the good teacher list.
I will keep you posted as events unfold. I will make this man like me. I will get on that list.
Saturday, September 17, 2011
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Oh Mama
You never know what your children will remember and take with them into adulthood. Sometimes it is whole days or events, and sometimes it may just be a single moment. For a child at the school I was subbing at today I am sure it will be the outfit her mother wore as she walked her into school.
My assignment this morning was to keep parents who were unable to read or too hung-over to know where they are, from dropping off their children in the clearly posted and marked bus lane area. Surprisingly, I had to point out the signage to eight cars. As I stood directing traffic a car pulls into the one of the six parking spaces designated for various school staff.
I watch the happenings here as there were clearly children in the car. I am confused as to why the car is there, and I am preparing to ask her to move her car. Then the driver got out. This woman turned and looked at me and I stopped dead in my tracks. She needed that space. She needed to make the quickest entrance and exit she could possibly make.
Death had nothing on this woman. She looked like the swamp thing crawled out of the trailer park. Her hair was standing on end, and she had on nothing but a dirty, ratty pink bathrobe with leopard slippers. The bathrobe was the wrap around kind, not the zip-up kind. I said a silent prayer that she was sober enough to tie a tight enough knot. No one should have to see this. She proceeded to take her child (I'm assuming it was her child) by the hand and drug her to the front doors of the school.
All heads turned as she cut through the line of cars that had come to a screeching halt for her. Actually, I don’t see how walking in front of a moving car could have made her look any worse.
Public service announcement!! Parents please hear my advice: your children will remember the embarrassing things you do. If you are too drunk, stoned, or hung-over from the three day weekend to remember to get dressed, DO NOT WALK YOUR CHILD IN, use the drive-thru drop off.
My assignment this morning was to keep parents who were unable to read or too hung-over to know where they are, from dropping off their children in the clearly posted and marked bus lane area. Surprisingly, I had to point out the signage to eight cars. As I stood directing traffic a car pulls into the one of the six parking spaces designated for various school staff.
I watch the happenings here as there were clearly children in the car. I am confused as to why the car is there, and I am preparing to ask her to move her car. Then the driver got out. This woman turned and looked at me and I stopped dead in my tracks. She needed that space. She needed to make the quickest entrance and exit she could possibly make.
Death had nothing on this woman. She looked like the swamp thing crawled out of the trailer park. Her hair was standing on end, and she had on nothing but a dirty, ratty pink bathrobe with leopard slippers. The bathrobe was the wrap around kind, not the zip-up kind. I said a silent prayer that she was sober enough to tie a tight enough knot. No one should have to see this. She proceeded to take her child (I'm assuming it was her child) by the hand and drug her to the front doors of the school.
All heads turned as she cut through the line of cars that had come to a screeching halt for her. Actually, I don’t see how walking in front of a moving car could have made her look any worse.
Public service announcement!! Parents please hear my advice: your children will remember the embarrassing things you do. If you are too drunk, stoned, or hung-over from the three day weekend to remember to get dressed, DO NOT WALK YOUR CHILD IN, use the drive-thru drop off.
Monday, August 9, 2010
The begining of a new school year
To all those out there who have been waiting for new posts, they are on their way. A new school year starts in one week.
Stay tuned for more tales from the substitute.
Stay tuned for more tales from the substitute.
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Vote for Pedro
Remember Napoleon Dynamite?
Today I had to attend an assembly that immediately had me laughing and called this movie to mind. There was an auditorium full of indifferent students, and ten people on the stage running for various school offices. As they all sat up there nervously I wondered what each one of them would be doing for their skit. As it turned out only one of them did a skit.
As the candidates took their turn at the podium I had to fight the urge to jump from the balcony and run out the door. These were the most boring speeches I had ever heard. The first candidate drowned on about why the student body should vote for them and how they were leaders, and unique. Then every candidate after exhibited how unique they were by repeating essentially the same speech.
Then “Pedro” stands up. This kid stick was that he was a nerd. His name was Jerry Bird the Nerd. He was dressed on suspenders, high water pants, and taped glasses. Then he brings out his alter-ego and this kid busted out a rap that Eminem would have envied (if Eminem could write a song without profanity.) When he is done the auditorium erupts in applause. I wonder if it is enough to get him elected.
I am going to go home tonight and re-watch Napoleon Dynamite.
Today I had to attend an assembly that immediately had me laughing and called this movie to mind. There was an auditorium full of indifferent students, and ten people on the stage running for various school offices. As they all sat up there nervously I wondered what each one of them would be doing for their skit. As it turned out only one of them did a skit.
As the candidates took their turn at the podium I had to fight the urge to jump from the balcony and run out the door. These were the most boring speeches I had ever heard. The first candidate drowned on about why the student body should vote for them and how they were leaders, and unique. Then every candidate after exhibited how unique they were by repeating essentially the same speech.
Then “Pedro” stands up. This kid stick was that he was a nerd. His name was Jerry Bird the Nerd. He was dressed on suspenders, high water pants, and taped glasses. Then he brings out his alter-ego and this kid busted out a rap that Eminem would have envied (if Eminem could write a song without profanity.) When he is done the auditorium erupts in applause. I wonder if it is enough to get him elected.
I am going to go home tonight and re-watch Napoleon Dynamite.
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Ball Bag Boy
I haven’t posted in a while. Last month my life was turned upside-down my the news that my husband of ten years wanted a divorce. Needless to say things have been a little hectic around here. The stories are still there, but life doesn’t seem as funny right now. I hope that will not always be the case. There is one story I must share.
I was subbing for a P.E. teacher at one of the local high schools. I must tell you that class size limits do not apply to P.E., so for all five period I had 60 students in my class. The assignment for the day was to take the students to the gym and have them shoot free throws or play basket ball. I proceed to the gym where I look around and see six exits. Maybe I should take roll at the end of class. After I tell the students what they will be doing for the day they scatter. I walk around to monitor the students, and am the target of rouge basketballs. Another teacher comes by and tells me to keep my back against the wall.
I decide that this is the best advice I have heard in a while, so I hunker down against the wall. I am trying to keep an eye on the situation, but it is not easy. I watch as two boys pick up the mesh ball bag and walk toward another student. My spider since is tingling because I know something is about to happen. Before I could make it half way across the court the two boys stuff a smaller boy into the bag and had him tied up inside. The two boys took off running. By the time I got to the ball bag boy he was screaming. I untied him and he jump up looking around. I asked him who had done this to him, and he asked me if I was crazy.
There was no way I would have thought that kid would have fit in that bag. Gotta love high school.
I was subbing for a P.E. teacher at one of the local high schools. I must tell you that class size limits do not apply to P.E., so for all five period I had 60 students in my class. The assignment for the day was to take the students to the gym and have them shoot free throws or play basket ball. I proceed to the gym where I look around and see six exits. Maybe I should take roll at the end of class. After I tell the students what they will be doing for the day they scatter. I walk around to monitor the students, and am the target of rouge basketballs. Another teacher comes by and tells me to keep my back against the wall.
I decide that this is the best advice I have heard in a while, so I hunker down against the wall. I am trying to keep an eye on the situation, but it is not easy. I watch as two boys pick up the mesh ball bag and walk toward another student. My spider since is tingling because I know something is about to happen. Before I could make it half way across the court the two boys stuff a smaller boy into the bag and had him tied up inside. The two boys took off running. By the time I got to the ball bag boy he was screaming. I untied him and he jump up looking around. I asked him who had done this to him, and he asked me if I was crazy.
There was no way I would have thought that kid would have fit in that bag. Gotta love high school.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Poopie Boy
This post is a little long winded, but I felt like I needed to get this off my chest.
Today I am in a learning handicap class for 7th graders. This means that the students are several grade levels behind, and their maturity is even lower. The campus is in a rough part of town similar to the elementary school I was at yesterday. By junior high many of the students are already involved with gangs.
As I walked to my classroom I passed the campus security guard. I asked him for directions to my room, and when I told him which room I was looking for he laughed out loud. He then clapped me on the back and inquired how I had drawn the short straw. His advice to me was to not show ANY fear, or run. This was going to be a long day.
As first period started to come in I thought maybe I should reconsider, but then again I do love a challenge. The class came in cussing, yelling, and pushing each other. I was greeted with “Fuck, a sub” I can feel the love.
When the paraprofessional (paid teachers aid) arrived she ran most of the class, as paraprofessional often do. She was, however, resigned to their offensive behavior, and did not attempt to correct or reprimand any of them for their ongoing verbal explosions of expletives. It was clear right away who the worst offenders were. There was one boy who I will call John who, I was told later, had attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD.) This boy was up out of his seat disturbing other students, talking, and causing chaos. He had been instructed several times by the paraprofessional to return to his seat and get to work.
Let me take a minute to explain the dynamics of a special education class. There is always a paraprofessional in a special education class. Sometimes there is more than one depending on the severity of the student’s handicap. It is always a crap shoot to see what kind of paraprofessional a teacher will get. Sometimes they are great. Some working on their education and truly wonderful to work with, and then there are others that are entrenched and apathetic. The later was my aid today, but never the less these people are in charge when the teacher is gone. My only job is to make sure no one burns down the building. This is aggravating to me because I am in the special education credential program, and would be able to teach the class.
And so, the class continues in the way already described. As per the paraprofessional, she says that she does not want to send anyone out of the classroom because that is what they want. A free ticked out of class for the day. This means that there is no bite to the requests to sit down, get to work, and stop hitting people. I should have run.
Things go along in this manner for most of the period. There will be no reprieve at the end of first period either because this group of students does not change classes. Except for lunch and P.E. I have them ALL day. It was during lunch that the real trouble started. A campus supervisor knocked on our window and asked if one of our students could come in the room for lunch because he had just been punched in the stomach by John. John and Chris were the two boys that stood out during first period. They were mean, cruel, and headed for juvenile hall. The target of their ridicule was two smaller boys I will call Eric and Jose. For John’s infraction he was sent to the office for the reminder of P.E. apparently other teacher do not put up with as much as the paraprofessional does.
When the class retuned from P.E. John was back too, and something major had happened. Eric came up to the desk with a tear stained face and told us that Chris had kick the bathroom door open while he was in there going poop. John and Chris along with the rest of the class were howling with laughter. The paraprofessional’s response was that she would talk to them and he should go back to his seat. The laughing quickly turned into the nick name that Eric will probably have for the rest of his school years, Poopie boy.
The ridicule was so bad that the paraprofessional finally sent Chris to detention. John, however, escalated the ridicule. Making flushing sounds, plops, and remarks about the room smelling like fart. Anyone that did not know what had happened certainly knew now. By this time Eric is in shambles. The ridicule continues and I am looking to the paraprofessional to send John out. Finally, when it was apparent that she was not going to address the behavior, I stepped in. I called for the campus supervisor to come escort him to the office, but he bolted out the door without looking back. Yes, I should have taken the advice from the campus supervisor this morning…run.
All was quiet after John left, and when the last bell rang I was looking forward to getting out of that school, but why did I think this day was over. As the students were leaving I saw John and Chris standing outside the classroom door. John yelled at me that I got him suspended. This always amazes me, a student breaks the rules, I enforce the rules, they get into trouble, and I am the bad guy, amazing. Both John and Chris were threatening Eric and Jose. They were holding up fists and mock punching at them. Both boys retreated back into the classroom clearly afraid. The paraprofessional and I said we would walk them to the office.
Jose’s mom was already out on the street, so I walked him to his car. On the way Chris shadowed us trying to get to Jose. I told him several times to go home, but he kept on. I cannot believe the nerve of these kids. When I got Jose to his car Chris said “I’ll get him later.”
After the day was over I sat in my car and cried. This day just moved into my all time top five worst sub days.
Today I am in a learning handicap class for 7th graders. This means that the students are several grade levels behind, and their maturity is even lower. The campus is in a rough part of town similar to the elementary school I was at yesterday. By junior high many of the students are already involved with gangs.
As I walked to my classroom I passed the campus security guard. I asked him for directions to my room, and when I told him which room I was looking for he laughed out loud. He then clapped me on the back and inquired how I had drawn the short straw. His advice to me was to not show ANY fear, or run. This was going to be a long day.
As first period started to come in I thought maybe I should reconsider, but then again I do love a challenge. The class came in cussing, yelling, and pushing each other. I was greeted with “Fuck, a sub” I can feel the love.
When the paraprofessional (paid teachers aid) arrived she ran most of the class, as paraprofessional often do. She was, however, resigned to their offensive behavior, and did not attempt to correct or reprimand any of them for their ongoing verbal explosions of expletives. It was clear right away who the worst offenders were. There was one boy who I will call John who, I was told later, had attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD.) This boy was up out of his seat disturbing other students, talking, and causing chaos. He had been instructed several times by the paraprofessional to return to his seat and get to work.
Let me take a minute to explain the dynamics of a special education class. There is always a paraprofessional in a special education class. Sometimes there is more than one depending on the severity of the student’s handicap. It is always a crap shoot to see what kind of paraprofessional a teacher will get. Sometimes they are great. Some working on their education and truly wonderful to work with, and then there are others that are entrenched and apathetic. The later was my aid today, but never the less these people are in charge when the teacher is gone. My only job is to make sure no one burns down the building. This is aggravating to me because I am in the special education credential program, and would be able to teach the class.
And so, the class continues in the way already described. As per the paraprofessional, she says that she does not want to send anyone out of the classroom because that is what they want. A free ticked out of class for the day. This means that there is no bite to the requests to sit down, get to work, and stop hitting people. I should have run.
Things go along in this manner for most of the period. There will be no reprieve at the end of first period either because this group of students does not change classes. Except for lunch and P.E. I have them ALL day. It was during lunch that the real trouble started. A campus supervisor knocked on our window and asked if one of our students could come in the room for lunch because he had just been punched in the stomach by John. John and Chris were the two boys that stood out during first period. They were mean, cruel, and headed for juvenile hall. The target of their ridicule was two smaller boys I will call Eric and Jose. For John’s infraction he was sent to the office for the reminder of P.E. apparently other teacher do not put up with as much as the paraprofessional does.
When the class retuned from P.E. John was back too, and something major had happened. Eric came up to the desk with a tear stained face and told us that Chris had kick the bathroom door open while he was in there going poop. John and Chris along with the rest of the class were howling with laughter. The paraprofessional’s response was that she would talk to them and he should go back to his seat. The laughing quickly turned into the nick name that Eric will probably have for the rest of his school years, Poopie boy.
The ridicule was so bad that the paraprofessional finally sent Chris to detention. John, however, escalated the ridicule. Making flushing sounds, plops, and remarks about the room smelling like fart. Anyone that did not know what had happened certainly knew now. By this time Eric is in shambles. The ridicule continues and I am looking to the paraprofessional to send John out. Finally, when it was apparent that she was not going to address the behavior, I stepped in. I called for the campus supervisor to come escort him to the office, but he bolted out the door without looking back. Yes, I should have taken the advice from the campus supervisor this morning…run.
All was quiet after John left, and when the last bell rang I was looking forward to getting out of that school, but why did I think this day was over. As the students were leaving I saw John and Chris standing outside the classroom door. John yelled at me that I got him suspended. This always amazes me, a student breaks the rules, I enforce the rules, they get into trouble, and I am the bad guy, amazing. Both John and Chris were threatening Eric and Jose. They were holding up fists and mock punching at them. Both boys retreated back into the classroom clearly afraid. The paraprofessional and I said we would walk them to the office.
Jose’s mom was already out on the street, so I walked him to his car. On the way Chris shadowed us trying to get to Jose. I told him several times to go home, but he kept on. I cannot believe the nerve of these kids. When I got Jose to his car Chris said “I’ll get him later.”
After the day was over I sat in my car and cried. This day just moved into my all time top five worst sub days.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Poverty
Today is the second of a two day assignment at the same school I described yesterday. You remember, drive-by, scary people, murders. The unfortunate side to all of the violence is the children. Over the past two days I have heard some sad things come out of these very mature 4th graders mouths.
I was in the office before school started and overheard two office staffers discussing the free and reduced lunch program. One lady said that the population at that school that qualified was 98%. That means that 98% of the population that have children who attend that school have an income of no higher than $15,000 per year.
The stress and ignorance of this level of poverty takes its toll on the kids. We were working on the weekly spelling list when it was time to move to another activity. The students had had more than enough time to copy down the words from the board. As I began to erase them several students protested. I told them they could ask me for them later if they had not completed the list.
Next, I assigned the homework: write each spelling word five times each. One of the students yelled out that he needed the spelling list put back up now because he hadn’t finished writing it. He told me that if I didn’t give him that list he would not do his home work. He said his mom told him it was not her job to help him with home work.
I was in the office before school started and overheard two office staffers discussing the free and reduced lunch program. One lady said that the population at that school that qualified was 98%. That means that 98% of the population that have children who attend that school have an income of no higher than $15,000 per year.
The stress and ignorance of this level of poverty takes its toll on the kids. We were working on the weekly spelling list when it was time to move to another activity. The students had had more than enough time to copy down the words from the board. As I began to erase them several students protested. I told them they could ask me for them later if they had not completed the list.
Next, I assigned the homework: write each spelling word five times each. One of the students yelled out that he needed the spelling list put back up now because he hadn’t finished writing it. He told me that if I didn’t give him that list he would not do his home work. He said his mom told him it was not her job to help him with home work.
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