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And then he took off his pants.

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  • And then he took off his pants.

    I teach intervention reading on a middle school level. It's my first year. I've felt like I'm drowning, and classes either run great or terribly. But one of my various tangled web of bosses called in outside support! A consultant for the curriculum I use.

    My classes alternate. On one day I have set 1, on the other day I have set 2. The consultant came to see me on Set 2, 4th period. (S2 4.) She raved about it. I connected the material to their lives, we had meaningful conversations, the group rotations ran smoothly. A+++ and a sticker with a smiley face on it.

    It turns out she was coming back again. She wanted to see S2 4 again, but was scheduled on an S1 day. So she's coming in to see S1 4.

    If S2 4 runs like a well-oiled machine, S1 4 runs like someone dumped acid and a few random pieces of bone into the machine. It runs a specific, predictable way, but never well.

    We talk before the class starts, while the students are at lunch. I lay out how the class goes:

    Me: Alright. We'll have a few students who are late. The class will get rowdier once they come in. This class will start to fall apart 20 minutes in. By 40 minutes in all will be lost. Also, do you want to hide your purse in my cabinet? I have thieves.

    She tells me the things I have changed for this specific class are things she would have done and she's sure it will go fine. Some students come in.

    K: Who's that?
    Me: That's someone the district sent to help me. She's just going to watch us today.

    K and J get into an argument over who is more fat. At least, I think that's the argument, because otherwise "who likes McD burgers more" doesn't make sense.

    Me: K, J, everyone likes McDs burgers. McD is great. They're where it's at. Except for breakfast.

    More students trickle in. I give G a workbook and an extra set of pages, enlarged as big as I could get them, because G is visually-challenged. But she's also a child and wants to fit in, so she wants to have the workbook too.

    I have an easel set up with gigantic pages of our workbook, (I make them when I make G's copies) with the answers written into each question but covered by a piece of paper. We uncover as we go. The students start getting rowdy, and I get a few who try and uncover the answers because they're the kind of people who will skip to the end of the book, apparently.

    I'm trying to define the word "potential" using the Avengers, but a small bit of chaos breaks out. Just a dot. Why? G's magnifying bar has gone missing. We're about twenty minutes into class now, and the class has started to screech. Not to a halt, yet, but we all know it's coming.

    G's Direct Aide (students who are especially disabled get a person who follows them around just to help them. G primarily got one so she could navigate the hallways) is accusing N of stealing it. G and N are kept in all the same classes because N has down syndrome. While N functions fairly well, there's an implicit understanding that G's DA is supposed to be able to help N if needed, also. So basically, G and N are metaphorically sisters, and while they love each-other, they also resent being forced to spend time together.

    So now I'm handling this, I guess. I've eliminated N as a suspect. The consultant gestures to K and whispers to me that she thinks she saw him take it. While I am looking at the consultant, the magnifying bar is found under K's desk. By K. K and I have a short discussion about how I'm not certain he did it, I want him to understand that if he did, that was a mean thing to do, and thanked him for finding the magnifying bar.

    So we're 40 minutes in now. The class has derailed entirely and something has gone missing. My predictions are fairly accurate. But I didn't predict the thing. I'm sure you, astute reader, did, because of the title.

    One of the boys decided to take off his pants. The child insisted he had shorts under his pants, but we had a talk about how it's not socially appropriate and it makes other people feel uncomfortable. Layers are smart but he needs to go to the bathroom to take off the pants.

    The class is now over. Egos are bruised, pants have been shed, magnifying bars have been restored to their rightful owners. In that tiny reprieve after the students leave, but the next period's students haven't arrived yet, I turn to the Consultant. "Well, do you have any thoughts?"

    "I'll get back to you," she said, eyes wide, with a slight laugh.

    She never did.

    So that's my most recent crazy story, but I still have "he stung himself with a dead bee" "the 'not a drill' lockdown drill" "that time multiple teachers, independently of one-another, decided to slut shame a middle school girl and imply she'll get murdered" and other modern classics.

    We'll see how this goes.
    Last edited by Cooper; 07-20-2019, 10:32 PM.

  • #2
    Dead Bee? I need to hear this one
    My son thinks I'm Lucifer Morningstar. I'm not sure he's wrong.

    Comment


    • #3
      And, that's what booze is for.

      I wish you luck with those kids.
      "Life is tough. It's even tougher if you're stupid" Redd Foxx as Al Royal - The Royal Family - Pilot Episode - 1991.

      Comment


      • #4
        Quoth YamiNoHime View Post
        Dead Bee? I need to hear this one
        Ditto. Oh god, ditto.

        I don't work in a school but working at the Big Smiley Face, you'd be surprised how many parents are perfectly okay with their kids trying on pants in the middle of the store when there's a fitting room right across from them.

        And I live in a town where some people think of the sex offender registry as a dating app.
        Don't waste time trying to convince someone that the sky is blue.

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        • #5
          Oh goodness you work in the setting I just left. It's tough work for sure.

          You've got me wanting to pen some of mine now.

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          • #6
            Quoth TheWolfEmperor View Post
            And I live in a town where some people think of the sex offender registry as a dating app.
            Please tell me you're joking. Please? Pretty Please?
            My son thinks I'm Lucifer Morningstar. I'm not sure he's wrong.

            Comment


            • #7
              Quoth YamiNoHime View Post
              Please tell me you're joking. Please? Pretty Please?
              Sadly, no.

              I once said that if Chris Hansen did his special in my town, my alma mater would be hiring a record number of substitutes the next day.

              One of the other renters in my first place was a convicted sex offender who violated the terms of his parole. And he worked at the same Dunkin Donuts as another sex offender who made a very inappropriate comment to my mother when she was in there ordering.

              I'd like to think background checks are taken more seriously now but I still get annoyed with parents who let their kids try clothes on in the middle of the department. There are much better ways to make your kid an Instagram star.
              Don't waste time trying to convince someone that the sky is blue.

              Comment


              • #8
                Quoth TheWolfEmperor View Post

                And I live in a town where some people think of the sex offender registry as a dating app.
                Quoth YamiNoHime View Post
                Please tell me you're joking. Please? Pretty Please?
                A quick look around my hometown says he ain't joking.
                Knowledge is power. Power corrupts. Study hard. Be evil.

                "I never said I wasn't a horrible person."--Me, almost daily

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