Retribution School Stories

Teaching high school, I had one of those classes.  Mostly boys who had been together since Kdg and didn't give a big rip about English.  This was a group of Juniors.

One of the loudest boys had a foul mouth.  It wasn't profane--just hells and damns and shits.  His name was Chris. I tried to maintain a clean classroom, but if I wrote that kid up for his vocabulary, he and I would be doing battle every day.  I admonished him regularly to clean up his mouth, and to be honest, he really tried to contain his curse words, but his world wasn't the same as mine--and we both knew it.  I really liked Chris.  He wasn't swearing out of disrespect.  I believe that he couldn't express himself at all without those words.  I just couldn't get him to use acceptable vocab.  We found a middle ground.  The other students seemed to be okay with it.  Only once did someone else challenge me about accepting curse words from Chris but not from others.  Guilty as charged!  I was just considering the sources.  Before the year was over, Chris became a father.  God help that child!

I gave that same class a group assignment.  Big mistake!  Five of the guys formed a group and were huddled together to do what I assumed was part of the assignment, but something didn't feel right.  When I approached them, they got secretive.  I soon discovered that they weren't working on the assignment.  One had dared another who was up for the dare.  He had crushed a Sweet Tart into powder, then snuffed it up his nose, like cocaine, with a rolled up dollar bill.  Oh, God...what next?

The kid's nose was sniffly, eyes were red and runny,, and face was red with irritation.  The other boys were laughing at him.  The period ended and they all left, but I had to mop up.  First, I contacted the nurse to ask if snuffing sugar into one's sinuses would hurt him.  (She thought no.)  Then I contacted the parent.  The mother had attended a committee with me over many months, but this was the first time I'd had to contact her about her kid.  The phone conversation went something like this:  "Sorry to have to call you about this.  Your son snuffed a bunch of sugar into his nose during class today on a dare.  The school nurse assures me that he is not in any danger, but if he seems a bit "off" tonight, that is why.  I'm not saying there is anything you can or should do about it.  Just thought you should know."  She thanked me for calling, and that was the end of it.

The next year, before school even started, that particular parent discovered that I would NOT be her son's English teacher for that year.  She approached me in the hall in tears.  She had hoped that I would be her son's teacher that year.  I was shocked.  I figured I would be the last person she'd want to teach her kid!