Thursday, October 20, 2011
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Bitch, You Don't Know Me! or Why I Love My Job!
I'm known around campus as a real straight shooter. Kids will tell you that they know they'll get the truth from me. They say I'm a lot of fun, but that they work hard and learn a lot in my classroom. I couldn't ask for better PR. But, there is a faction of students who don't know me as anyone other than that bitch or the woman who is always busting up their fun. That faction, lovely as they are, is the subject of this posting.
I was making my daily stroll up to the front office during my planning period when I encountered a young man known far and wide as Bug (naturally, since I love my job, this is not his real name.) I didn't know this at the time, but I would come to know him quite well. Bug and another anonymous young man were sitting on top of trash cans, shorts pulled down so low they may as well be cropped pants, black t-shirt so long it could sub for a cute LBD (little black dress) and gold grills the likes of which I have only seen in a Lil' somebody or other's video.
As I approached these young men I smiled and attempted to make eye contact. In turn they did this thing that some teenagers have really mastered and that is they simply looked through me. I maintained eye contact and said, "Good morning, gentlemen. The tardy bell rang a while ago. Shouldn't you be in class?" And they, in turn, simply looked through me. When I received no discernable response I said, "Do you have a pass?" To which they sucked their teeth, hopped off their respective trash cans and proceded to walk past me mumbling something like, "bitch."
At that moment something happened to me. My nanny, God rest her soul, had an expression that I didn't fully understand until that moment. She used to say that "hell flew into" her when something really angered her. In that moment friends, HELL flew into me! The exchange went something like this:
ME: I beg your pardon?
THEM: silence, whilst walking away from me
ME: I said, do you have a pass?
ONE OF THEM: Bitch, I got a pass, as he shoves a crinkled piece of yellow paper in my direction
ME: May I see that, please?
ONE OF THEM: Man, this bitch be hassling us
ME: Young man with the pass, go to class. Now, you. What's your story? Where should you be?
BUG: Don't you worry about where I'm gonna be, bitch. You don't know me.
ME: (patience wearing out quickly) aren't you just the most precious young man? Where should you be.
BUG: Man!
ME: Please just cooperate. We don't have to do this this way.
This next part is my favorite! Keep in mind that at no time am I any closer than 4 0r 5 feet away from the kid.
BUG: Bitch, you betta not lay a mutha-fuckin' hand on me. He says as he turns to face me.
I could have died. Where this kid made the leap to me possibly laying hands on him, which I would NEVER do in a million years, was beyond me. Then my mind started to race thinking, Oh great. This kid is trying to escalate this situation so that he can feel justified in laying HIS hands on ME! In my younger days this might not have frightened me, but on this day it did. A LOT.
You should probably know that several adults can hear this and only ONE stops to see if I need some assistance. You have to love this. All the while I'm thinking to myself, "Why do I even try? Why do I help with campus security and sweep the halls for tardy kids and skippers? All I get is a boat load of grief from kids." So this very nice custodian stops and calls for campus security on his radio and proceeds to walk with me and the young man. We maintain a safe travelling distance and this young man, this precious piece of humanity, is cussing me and the custodian in terms that would make your hair curl. It's really lovely. Once campus security (the Keystone Cops) arrives on a golf cart, Bug is recognized. Ms. Johnson (campus security) says to Bug, "Bug! Why you be trippin' on Miss? Miss is a good lady. A good teacher. Don't be talkin' bad to Miss." She gives him a good, old-fashioned tongue lashing like she was his momma. He turns to her and says just as sweet as he possibly could, "Naw, man, fuck that bitch. She don't know me!"
All of this happened before 7:45am. How do you spend the first hour of your work day?
I was making my daily stroll up to the front office during my planning period when I encountered a young man known far and wide as Bug (naturally, since I love my job, this is not his real name.) I didn't know this at the time, but I would come to know him quite well. Bug and another anonymous young man were sitting on top of trash cans, shorts pulled down so low they may as well be cropped pants, black t-shirt so long it could sub for a cute LBD (little black dress) and gold grills the likes of which I have only seen in a Lil' somebody or other's video.
As I approached these young men I smiled and attempted to make eye contact. In turn they did this thing that some teenagers have really mastered and that is they simply looked through me. I maintained eye contact and said, "Good morning, gentlemen. The tardy bell rang a while ago. Shouldn't you be in class?" And they, in turn, simply looked through me. When I received no discernable response I said, "Do you have a pass?" To which they sucked their teeth, hopped off their respective trash cans and proceded to walk past me mumbling something like, "bitch."
At that moment something happened to me. My nanny, God rest her soul, had an expression that I didn't fully understand until that moment. She used to say that "hell flew into" her when something really angered her. In that moment friends, HELL flew into me! The exchange went something like this:
ME: I beg your pardon?
THEM: silence, whilst walking away from me
ME: I said, do you have a pass?
ONE OF THEM: Bitch, I got a pass, as he shoves a crinkled piece of yellow paper in my direction
ME: May I see that, please?
ONE OF THEM: Man, this bitch be hassling us
ME: Young man with the pass, go to class. Now, you. What's your story? Where should you be?
BUG: Don't you worry about where I'm gonna be, bitch. You don't know me.
ME: (patience wearing out quickly) aren't you just the most precious young man? Where should you be.
BUG: Man!
ME: Please just cooperate. We don't have to do this this way.
This next part is my favorite! Keep in mind that at no time am I any closer than 4 0r 5 feet away from the kid.
BUG: Bitch, you betta not lay a mutha-fuckin' hand on me. He says as he turns to face me.
I could have died. Where this kid made the leap to me possibly laying hands on him, which I would NEVER do in a million years, was beyond me. Then my mind started to race thinking, Oh great. This kid is trying to escalate this situation so that he can feel justified in laying HIS hands on ME! In my younger days this might not have frightened me, but on this day it did. A LOT.
You should probably know that several adults can hear this and only ONE stops to see if I need some assistance. You have to love this. All the while I'm thinking to myself, "Why do I even try? Why do I help with campus security and sweep the halls for tardy kids and skippers? All I get is a boat load of grief from kids." So this very nice custodian stops and calls for campus security on his radio and proceeds to walk with me and the young man. We maintain a safe travelling distance and this young man, this precious piece of humanity, is cussing me and the custodian in terms that would make your hair curl. It's really lovely. Once campus security (the Keystone Cops) arrives on a golf cart, Bug is recognized. Ms. Johnson (campus security) says to Bug, "Bug! Why you be trippin' on Miss? Miss is a good lady. A good teacher. Don't be talkin' bad to Miss." She gives him a good, old-fashioned tongue lashing like she was his momma. He turns to her and says just as sweet as he possibly could, "Naw, man, fuck that bitch. She don't know me!"
All of this happened before 7:45am. How do you spend the first hour of your work day?
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