Why I Wish I Was Not A Substitute Teacher in Chicago Public Schools...

...Because this was the conversation at my dinner table tonight:

me: Can I tell you guys about my day? Because I had cheese thrown at me.
housemates: What the fuck? Cheese?
me: That's right. Cheese.
housemates: By whom?
me: By my students.
housemates: Oh man. Your life sucks.

I was at that damned charter school again, and what do you know, my day was just as bad as the last time. Actually, it was only a half day. And 2 of my classes were fine. I was in for a Spanish teacher, which was too bad since I don't speak Spanish. Though you'll be glad to know that I have familiarized myself with all the bad Spanish words that students tend to call substitute teachers.

During the first period, students were using laptops to do research for some upcoming papers. They weren't totally on task, but other than keeping them off myspace and facebook, it was great. And really, the only reason I kept working to keep them from the social networking sites is because I did not have a computer at my desk, and therefore couldn't use the networking sites myself, dammit.*

But then I had Spanish III (11th graders I think?), and it was a whole different story. They all came in and as soon as they saw my name, started making fun of it. This happens often, but today I had a new strategy for dealing with it: embarrass the kids. I said to them, "Oh, come on guys! I've heard that one a million times. You're not original." It seemed like a weak response to me-- something I'd say if I was a student on the playground and not the teacher, for god's sake-- so I was completely shocked when they cut it out after a minute. Score one for the only adult in the room.

Unfortunately, that was my last success for the period. The students were so riled up that I couldn't get them to stay in their seats for long enough to take attendance. That's when they started throwing cheese cubes. At first they were throwing them across the room, and when I yelled at the throwers they would be typical jackasses:

"What?! It wasn't me!"
"Um, I saw you. Do you want detention?"
[In a mimicking voice] "Do you want detention?"
"Ok, what's your name?"
"Omar." (Everyone cracks up.)
"What's your real name."
"Omar. Seriously!"

Illustrations: James Yamasaki

It's not Omar, because there's no Omar on the roster and all the kids are still cracking up. But by then someone else is doing the cheese throwing and I realize that at this point, I am essentially fucked. I'm sorry, but books on classroom management don't do shit in this sort of situation. You just have to duck and take cover.

So I yell for a while about giving the whole class detention. This might have been a successful strategy, were it not for half of the now class complaining loudly that they weren't doing anything wrong. Suddenly all these fake goodie-goodies are running up to me and going, "My name is Maria Lopez! I swear, I was being good! Don't give me detention!" And then I have to deal with all THOSE kids instead of dealing with the don't-give-a-damn troublemakers. Really, the class detention line didn't endear me to anyone.


But still, no one will shut up long enough for me to take attendance, and the cheese is still flying. So I calmly walk over to the corner of the room where there is a button that calls the front office and I push it. This decision elicits a loud "hey ya'll! She's calling the office! Oh shit!" from my class. That's when at least one chunk of cheese whizzes through the air and directly hits my head.

The front office lady responds to my call over the loudspeaker, "Can I help you?" And then, get this, all of the students start yelling as loudly as they can, "no, we're fine! It was just a mistake!" It totally drowns out my "Hello, yes, I need security in 211 please. Can you send someone in here right away?" I had to call at least twice before they figured something was going on and sent someone to the room for the rest of the period.

Before security arrives, the "good" students are still flipping out and one of them is repeating, "we're going to get in trouble! You guys!" And under my breath, before I even realize it, I say...

"...well no shit."

Except that it wasn't quite under my breath. Ha, the kids within earshot didn't know WHAT to make of that statement. Ahem. Another nickel in the swear jar.


*Actually I make it a policy of mine to never visit social networking sites (or this blog, for that matter) while I'm at a school. But that doesn't keep me from being bitter.