Just Another Manic Monday

I am finally home from school after being gone for 12 hours. That' s right- when you consider my half-hour commute both ways, I was at school for 11 hours today. I left at 6 p.m. after finally completing my Term 1 grades. Let me explore the events of my Monday with you...

The new Superintendent was scheduled to visit our school all day. I knew that he would be floating around the school so I made sure that my room was just a little neater than usual and that I was just a little more prepared for class than usual.

Sure enough 5 minutes into 2nd period, which is my worst class behaviorally and academically, the superintendent and Principal stroll in, note-pads and pens in hand. I shake the Super's hand and offer them seats in the back of the room. The class starts off okay though I have to redirect several students- asking them to take out something to write with, getting extra textbooks from the closet because they've forgotten theirs and fielding the typical barrage of beginning of class questions. Since it's the first day of Term 2, I ask kids what our classroom procedures are and they respond by raising their hands (class participation, check-plus). I tell kids about some new rules and responsibilities for Term 2 (setting high expectations, check-plus). I then read a book to the class (check-minus).

Here's the scene: I ask the students to move their chairs to the front of the room in true storytime fashion. I introduce my favorite children's' book, Click, Clack, Moo (WHAT'S UP TTP), because its related to our topic of domestication and farming in early civilizations. The book is about cows that strike because they are upset with the conditions of the barn. They send Farmer Brown notes with an ultimatum- they want electric blankets or else. When the Farmer refuses, the cows hold an emergency meeting to address the issue. Sounds cute, right? Wrong- my school district and teacher's union are in the middle of negotiating our expired contract. Currently, the relations between administrators and the union are a bit cold as they continue to negotiate pay, health care etc. Furthermore, teachers were picketing tonight at the town meeting because we are moving into a work-to-rule situation. (For those not in the know, work-to-rule is a period of time in which teachers only work their contracted hours and nothing more. This is, of course, absurd. If teachers did not show up early, stay late, and do work at home, we would only have a 45-minute prep period a day to correct all papers, enter grades, call parents, meet with other teachers, make copies and plan lessons.) Anyhow, the climate in our district is quite tense and here I am, a first-year-teacher (obviously without tenure) reading a book about labor relations with the Superintendent and Principal in the back of my room taking notes. Anyhow, they stayed until the end of the period and waved upon exiting. GD.

Thhhheeeennnnnn....

I am walking down the hallway after my 22-minute lunch to supervise the mass of 12- and 13-year-olds coming back from the cafeteria. As I turn the corner I hear, "You f*cking bitch". I look down the hallway and see two of the girls in my next class lunging at each other. I sprint- I mean literally- sprint down the hallway in heels like I was on a treadmill. These girls are out for blood and I hate watching kids fight. Because I am not "supposed" to physically separate them start screaming in my don't-mess-with-Ms.-H voice, "GIRLS! GET YOUR HANDS OFF EACH OTHER NOW." After a few seconds, the blood-bath ceases and the girls separate. One teacher grabs one of the girls and I take the other. The girl that I am leading has a bloody, cut lip, a shirt that is ripped and hanging off her shoulder and her eye is already starting to puff up. The vice-principal is not in the office and I go to search for her. Where do I find her, you ask? Well, talking to the Superintendent and the Principal of course, standing not 3 feet away from where the altercation took place. So here is the subversive first year teacher waltzing up to the trio, interrupting and telling the VP that there is a student emergency in the office.

Phhhhheeeewwww, I walk back to my classroom, shaking my head at the absurdity of the morning. I enter my class and my kids start applauding. "Ms. H! You are so strong." "Yo- I wouldn't have tried to break that fight up." "Dude! I have never seen a teacher run like that- I didn't even know they could." "Ms. H, that was tight." Heh? I thought they would have been angry at me for breaking up their afternoon entertainment, but I guess this battle was even a little too bloody for them. Ten minutes later, the girls that got in the fight come in my classroom to retrieve their belongings, and amazingly, I manage to have them leave the room without so much as a sideways glance from a classmate. For the remainder of the day, I was getting high-fived (or at least fist-hit, "lock-it" style) by my kids.

As we like to say in my school on Fridays, "another day, another dollar draft".