A Teacher's Day

The day in the life of an inner city large urban school district teacher after the high stakes testing ends and there is still three more months left before summer vacation.

Name:
Location: Chicago, Illinois, United States

I have taught school for over thirty years always in the inner city and for the most part always upper grade students. I have two children and I have been married for twenty years.

Thursday, April 27, 2006

A Terrible Day

Sometimes it's better to just roll over and stay in bed.

A few years ago students from the 8th grade came rushing into my room. "Our teachers fighting!" one of them yelled.

I just knew I misunderstood them. What they must have meant was their teacher was breaking up a fight. But no. Their teacher was fighting. Three 8th graders were trying to hold him back and a special needs students, about six feet away, just stared him down.

I grabbed the student and pushed him into his classroom. I know I told his teacher to keep him there. Then I rushed back to the teacher in question. He wasn't just angry. His eyes were empty. His fists were clenched hard enough to crack walnuts. He walked towards the special needs student's classroom and even when I touched his shoulder and blocked his way, there was no response. He was past angry.

I turned.

Didn't I tell the teacher to keep the student in the room? Why was the student back in the hall?

The teacher roared, tried to get past me, his 8th grade students falling to the side as he let out a steaming bellow of rage. There was only one thing to do. I grabbed the student and literally lifted him to the stairs and down to the first floor where security from the office was now running.

Something like this happened yesterday. A student with her mother and aunt entered the playground. They scouted the scene. They saw their prey. They sent the student after it. The next thing I knew, I was in the middle of a fight between two girls--and a mother and an aunt. The first time the aunt pushed me out of the way, I thought it an accident. The second time, I knew it was on purpose. It took three men to break up the fight--and one security guard to get the adults out of the way.

"Let them fight," the mother yelled, and she made room for one of her sons to start kicking. Where is it stated we should allow students to fight?

I'm wondering why the police weren't called.

That was only fight number one.

Life lesson 1: Even though I walk four miles a day to work, I was out of breath from helping out. Walking is not enough.

Life lesson 2: Those of you who are prolife--this mother had her daughter too soon. Her daughter is already costing us and society money. I need prolife people to put their money where their idealism is--if you want us to end abortions, then start supporting these individuals who have babies and no clue. Support them with money and your actual physical attention. In the above case, both mother and child need help. The daughter was not aborted. Your support now--your visits, your field trips, your counsel, your etc. can make the difference. It's easy to say you're prolife. Don't just say no to abortion. Say yes to making sure the new born baby is well taken care of--and I don't mean just through the cute years. I mean through the age of eighteen. Then tell me your prolife.

1 Comments:

Blogger mishegasmaster said...

and why the heck aren't the police called? and why the heck is the press and public not notified of this situation? i'm sure it's happening at other schools too, most noteably, Nash School on the west side where they hold "shelter court," that's where the "bad & beyond" kids go when they are out of control. outside of that, wow! what a blog today!!!

1:43 PM  

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