Are
you sure we can’t knuckle the knuckleheads in schools? I’m not a violent person, but there are days,
boy I tell you! Those are the days I
have a brief inside argument that goes like this:
“Child of God, Lindsay. Child of God.”
“Yeah, but not a good one!”
I
have a private little laugh and lighten up.
I’m
not the only special ed teacher who has this big group of big boys with big
mouths and little ears. They talk while
I’m talking, barge large and loud into the room after the bell and argue about
their black hoodies that aren’t part of the dress code and question over and
over, without movement, why I want them to sit in a seat away from their buds
who keep talking to them while I’m repeating for the 5th time that
they need to move. It’s a blast! One knucklehead in particular really pushes
my buttons, so I push his: the security button, and off they go to 135, the
disciplinarian. This week Dion wouldn’t
shut up while the other knuckleheads actually buckled down and worked and
thought and questioned the text rather than my authority. Finally I pushed the button on Dion but was
disconnected. I tried to walk him down to 135 myself, but he refused to
follow. I hailed a security officer and ranted
about Dion. For some reason, her silence
spurred me on to rant harder, as if I needed to convince her I was in the
right. I guess I was hoping for some
affirmation from her. Instead of
affirmation, I think she got confirmation that I’m an out of control lunatic.
After
a day suspension, Dion returned and refused to move to a different group. “Why?” he asked about ten times. I answered, “Because I’m the teacher and I’ve
decided that’s what is best.” He said
low, under his breath, “Mother fucker.”
Then he shared his inner most feelings and desires with me. “I don’t even like you. Get out of my face.” I pushed the button and he walked out before
security came. Finally my small group
could work. But, no. Dion and that same security officer showed up
at the door wanting to patch things up.
She asked why he was sent out. This time I acted a bit cooler, even though I
couldn’t believe my class was being further interrupted and my decision was
being questioned by someone other than a knucklehead. When I told her that he cursed at me, she
said to him sweetly, because she is
indeed sweet, “You didn’t tell me that you cursed.” Off they went to 135. My small group and I finally got to work for
the second half of the period.
These
kids sometimes have access to my button; it’s labeled Ego. When I take it
personally, when I think I’m a failure because I can’t control the
uncontrollable, and when I join someone in questioning my decisions, I truly am
a lunatic—a knucklehead.
I
know we’re all born naked, needing unconditional love, eventually needing
personal power and dignity. I know we’re
all learning how to grasp and hold onto to those securities, and that some of
us are born into abundance but others into a poverty of these needs. When Dion returned to class the next day, I
was welcoming and hopeful. He was cooperative and engaged. That was easy because we were just watching
the first movie of the year after taking final exams, so what’s not to
cooperate with? But he sat next to me
and said, “This movie is raw!” I love
that we can start over every day, he and I, that we can keep trying to find
what works for ourselves and each other.
I love that I’m not in this quest alone, that we’re both children of
God, good ones.
This
morning I’m making a healthy, colorful, protein filled breakfast that’s sure to
sustain my power through the morning.
Purple Cabbage
with Turkey Sausage and Mushrooms
1-2
T. oil (I use coconut or sunflower oil)
6
or so slices of sweet onions cut in half
1½
to 2 c. purple cabbage, sliced
1
small package of white mushrooms cleaned and sliced
4
turkey sausage links
salt
and pepper to taste
Sauté
onions for a few minutes then add mushrooms, stir and cover for a few more
minutes. Add cabbage, salt and pepper.
Cover and cook for two to three minutes. Add turkey sausage. Cover and cook until
the sausage condoms start rolling off.
Remembering
that we are what we eat, take in the color and strength of this dish. Now aren’t you beautiful? Aren’t we all?
I don't know how the "Four Agreements" plays into this situation. I don't know how it can deal with a teacher's situation, which just is so challenging. I don't know how to avoid getting "my buttons" pushed as, although I am not in the most challenging profession that there is, like you, I have also been where someone has got me screaming like an idiot.
ReplyDeleteSometime we can not have the answers at the time we need them. But you are always able to look back, at least, to learn for the next day. You have special skills when working with these young folks, but it is still a challenge I can tell.
Thanks for sharing. Thanks for giving me an idea of what it is like to be in the classroom. Thanks for being there, where our most talented teachers (that is you) need to be. You are performing a service to these young folks that is immeasurable.
And, as always, thanks for the great recipe. I will never go hungry nor go long without a delightful meal, thanks to you.