This afternoon. Middle school. On the way to lunch. Short, tan kid with a scarred face walks by me, turns around smiling and says, "Fuck you Miss ___."
I remember him. Used to go to another middle school, until he got kicked out and landed in this one. He made me cry (privately, of course) at his old school, but this time I'm just temporarily stung and thinking about two things:
1. This school. Last year the kids started trashcan bonefires during every passing period until the janitors began filling the bottoms of the cans with hose water. The new principal has separated the 6th grade from the 7th & 8th grade, hoping to keep the innocents away from their corrupted, older peers. There are so many "problem kids" and they all end up here. But whose problem kids are they? Well, I guess for a day they're mine, and for all the other days, and sometimes years, they're the other teachers' problem children. The school becomes their family by default. Where are their parents?
2. The boy. No matter how tragic a story he carries, I don't deserve this abuse. Only 14 years old and already constipated with anger. I'm sure he has a thick file in the counselor's office. Yes, he's a "problem kid." The dean tells me he'll give the boy lunch detention, nonchalantly remarking that he's been doing well at his new school and will soon finish eigth grade. The dean clearly doesn't want to alienate him any further. He's trying to be his friend, but the boy needs a father.
I remember him. Used to go to another middle school, until he got kicked out and landed in this one. He made me cry (privately, of course) at his old school, but this time I'm just temporarily stung and thinking about two things:
1. This school. Last year the kids started trashcan bonefires during every passing period until the janitors began filling the bottoms of the cans with hose water. The new principal has separated the 6th grade from the 7th & 8th grade, hoping to keep the innocents away from their corrupted, older peers. There are so many "problem kids" and they all end up here. But whose problem kids are they? Well, I guess for a day they're mine, and for all the other days, and sometimes years, they're the other teachers' problem children. The school becomes their family by default. Where are their parents?
2. The boy. No matter how tragic a story he carries, I don't deserve this abuse. Only 14 years old and already constipated with anger. I'm sure he has a thick file in the counselor's office. Yes, he's a "problem kid." The dean tells me he'll give the boy lunch detention, nonchalantly remarking that he's been doing well at his new school and will soon finish eigth grade. The dean clearly doesn't want to alienate him any further. He's trying to be his friend, but the boy needs a father.
1 comment:
No, you don't deserve such abuse... though it makes for compelling blog material. Your blog is great, Kara.
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