Limericks, Thunder, and Guacamole
Just a regular Wednesday in the classroom in New Orleans.
I worked with a small group of kids who are very upset because one of their 15-year-old friends drowned in Lake Pontchartrain 2 nights ago. At one point a girl was bullying another girl (a Blood first lady) about how she didn’t know him well enough to be upset based on their Facebook interactions, which made her more upset. Another boy laid his head on my desk and sobbed. They all talked about how life is so short.
When thunder started clapping this afternoon, the kids shuddered and yelled to God out the window, “Don’t come after me!”
I talked to a 17-year-old 8th grade boy very calmly about a fight he was involved in when a girl snuck him and punched him in the ear for reasons that are unclear. Her “people” then came up to fight the boy, who had not started the fight or retaliated at all. Her parents tried to fight the student, but security intervened. He said he was worried about it escalating into something he doesn’t want to be involved in. “This how people get shot.” When I asked him what she was fussing about, he said it was over a chair in art class.
I made a corral out of 2 desks in the corner of my room to keep a kid from leaving his seat. He wrote a beautiful limerick as I sat on the desks to keep him in one location.
There once was a boy named Tony
Who wanted to eat ham with bologna.
He was so weak
His bones started to creek
So instead he ate macaroni.
My 15-year-old student who is 6 months pregnant tested positive for marijuana, so her probation officer is sending her back to rehab. She said it’s been hard to quit. She’s been smoking pot since she was 11.
During 4th block I was in the hallway to joyfully witness an 18-year-old 8th grade boy and a 16-year-old 8th grade girl lock onto each others’ hair like greasy velcro. It took security to pull them apart.
Today I was told to fuck off, to stop being such a know it all, to stop blowing it, and to “gimme a cold drink”. I had a wadded up paper thrown at me and a white board thrust onto the floor for correcting a 16-year-old student who screams “Cu-KOO!” at the top of his lungs, in and outside of the classroom.
I also witnessed a student eat guacamole for the first time. “What IS that.” She opted for yogurt covered pretzels instead.
Last but not least, a student made a list of her name and her sister’s and cousin’s names for me: Brianika, Dwanika, Tyronika, Corynisha, Rodnika, Kurtney, and Kurtnika. You can guess their father’s names, and you’d be right.