7 more school days until our weeklong intersession. I feel bad for being so enthusiastic about a solid week away from my students, but it's true that I am looking forward to that time off.
Neo, Junior and King always come to school early, so this morning I used that time to do some goal-setting with them. I had them write down on a card a goal (sitting down, listening, etc), why it was important, and how I could help them. It was a good chance to talk about: do you prefer me to stand next to you and quietly remind you, or are you OK with me saying something from the front of the room? King opted for just a hand on his shoulder; Junior opted for a quiet verbal reminder; and Neo, surprisingly, said he was OK with a reminder from the front of the room. I had them put the completed card in their desks then sent them off to breakfast.
Superstar stopped by as the students were lining up outside. I didn't catch what happened (verbal teasing is my guess, or maybe someone made a rude gesture at him), but all of a sudden he put his sunglasses and backpack down and lunged toward the boys' line. I had to grab him by the arms from behind to keep him from hitting someone. One of my grade-level colleagues came over to help me steer him away. I ended up having to walk Superstar to his class, with my arm firmly around his shoulders the whole time. I turned him over to his teacher, but kept myself between him and the door because he tried to go back to my class again. I saw him at recess, and he was his usual cheerful, playful self. Again, a silent prayer of thanks that my students haven't hit their growth spurts yet; just about everyone is shorter than I am. I suspect those growth spurts are just around the corner, however; I started pricing deodorant/ antiperspirants this weekend because I walked past some students after recess the other week and noticed for the first time that they were smelly. Good old hormones kicking in.
Unfortunately, I didn't get to see how the goal-setting worked, because the trio were yanked out my room after recess. They were lined up outside, and the trio were horsing around, talking loudly, etc. I was standing next to them, trying to get them settled, when Junior and King's fourth-grade teacher walked by. In an instant she took in their behavior, bounded over in a few furious steps, and launched into a tirade that started with "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?" (Yes, the volume and fury merit all caps). She then took them with her, to call their parents and explain why they were in trouble. They came back teary-eyed and cowed-looking to apologize to me and their classmates.
The incident with Superstar reminded me of my first day on my school's campus, as a wide-eyed aspiring teacher. The bell had just rung for dismissal. I was sitting on a bench outside the library, watching the students disperse, when I saw a girl dash towards the front office. The vice principal was close behind, and he took her by the arm. She dropped to the ground and began screaming "let me go" over and over again. It was a striking sound -- to this day, I can't find a way to describe it adequately. The closest I can get is to say that it almost sounded like a robot, or a tape recording, because of its repetition. The VP restrained her and with help pulled her off the ground and into his office. That was my official "Toto, we're not in a comfy suburban school anymore" moment.
I was talking to my sister recently about some of my classroom travails, and she tried to cheer me up by pointing out, at least your job isn't boring. Yeah, that's true, but it would be so nice right now to have a boring day.
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