Two Stories

In this blog entry I must tell two stories. The first concerns an incident that happened to me last year when I was substituting in School A.

The teacher had left a DVD to be shown to the class. I started it playing and circulated among the class, having the students sign a sign-in sheet. This took about ten minutes. Then, as the DVD played, I circulated around through the class. keeping my eye on what was going on. A few students were sitting with their eyes half shut, others were playing with their handheld electronic devices, and tried to put these away as I approached. A half dozen or more were simply chatting, paying no attention top the DVD.

When a teacher needs a substitute to fill in for him or her, many have the class shown a DVD. I think this is usually a terrible waste of time. Personally, I would rather administer a quiz deliberately designed with so many questions that students wouldn't have time to finish it before the bell rings. The students can be told that if they don't pass the quiz in by the end of class, they will get a failing grade for that day's assignment. This tends to keep them quieter and busier than any DVD.

But we were destined to watch a DVD. As I roomed through the classroom, there were times when I was in the back of the room with my back turned.

Four girls who had been sitting in the very front took one of these opportunities to depart from the class when I wasn't looking.

I realized quickly that they had left, and I made a note of this for the teacher, but of course I didn't know their names, so I could be as specific as I wanted in my report. I planned to pass arouind a second sign-in sheet before the end of the class so I could identify them.

About fifteen or twenty minutes later, as I was standing by the door, there came a rapping on the glass, which was covered on the inside by paper so people outside could not look in. I opened the door and found the four miscreant student trying to barge their way in. I told them that they had left and that they would not be allowed back in. All four began swearing a me("motherfucker this, motherfucker that"), trying to tear my hands from the doorknob and trying to pull the door wide open.

Fortunately a female teacher across the hall heard the commotion and came out. "You can't do that," she shouted at the girls. "If a teacher says you cannot be admitted to a class, then you cannot go into that class."

The four girls turned away and walked together down the hall, chatting.

The rest of the day passed without incident until I was signing out. One of the assistant principals asked me to step into her office and informed me that each of the four girls had signed a complaint that I had "hit" them. Furthermore, each had called home and made the same complaint to their parents. The assistant principal asked me to describe what had happened. I described the event precisely. Then I added that the teacher across the hall had come out and witnessed the event and could also describe it.

The vice principal said she had spent an hour on the phone convincing one or two of the fathers from coming down to the school to beat me up. "I am sixty-nine years old," I told the vice principal. I have not hit another human being in more than half a century."

The next day the vice principal told me that she had talked with the teacher across the hall and it was clear that the girls had been lying. She had called the parents of the four girls and informed them of this.

My second story is more a description than an actual narrative. Several days ago I began teaching at School B in a special education class for autistic students. Today was my third day. I am sure I was being observed by the other staff members as closely as I was observing the students.

These students are all severely handicapped. One cannot help but have one's heart go out to them. More than half of the 17 cannot speak. They make little noises that have to be interpreted. Three or four of them simply screech loudly every few minutes. Some nod back and forth repetitiously. A few carry with them special picture books that they can open when they need or want something so they can point to a picture. One of the students, who always has a smile on his face, jumps up and down and runs around in circles, having fun. Odd as it may sound, his joy is wonderful to behold.

In the three days I have been there, I have noticeably quieted down the class' most difficult student. It took quite a bit to get him to bond with me -- yesterday, about 2 1/2 hours of play dough in which he would put the dough on the table, take my hand, and move my hand to show me what he wanted me to do. Today I made progress with the second student who is one of the two greatest disturbances. I was told by the main teacher that, "You're doing very well," and asked to be there as often as possible. Later in the afternoon, I got this second student, whom no one had heard talk, to say four words: "sleep" and "I'll see ya." One of the other teachers heard the student say "sleep" and was amazed. "You're not just good at this. You have a gift," he told me.

Many of the students in School A where the four girls misbehaved are simply low, low class. Both boys and girls are obsessed with how they look and with securing and keeping peer approval. Earlier in this blog I described how these kids dress. They are constantly on ipods and other electronic devices, and many spend much of their time trying to con their teachers, and probably each other.

Compare those students with the kids at School B, who come from the same areas of my city. At School B in the special ed class, one gets no sense of lower class, upper class, middle class, or any class. One simply feels presented with needy kids. Not a one of them seems concerned with what the others think of him or her. They are too much into their own worlds. They don't carry phones or ipods because most of them wouldn't know how to use them. They have no guile, no intent to deceive. Nor do they normally possess rudeness or cruelty or the intent to hurt others. These kids may be 90% non-functional. They are worlds apart from the four students who tried to bust back into my classroom in School A. I am far more sympathetic with the kids in special ed.