Vacuuming
I walked out of my school this afternoon, breathed in the sharp, cool air and thought about where to stop for a snack before going home. It’s a busy street that joins other busy streets, with lots of people and traffic and stores. It’s perfect if you like those things. If you don’t, it could be rather off-putting.
I saw a student of mine who graduated last year. I crossed the street and ran a bit to catch up with him….I thought he saw me. Maybe he ignores me because it’s not cool to acknowledge me….or maybe I’m just a narcissist, thinking I’m worthy of being ignored and all. But would he really just ignore me?
(Maybe he would. But, on the other hand, as I am sitting here writing this in a notebook and eating my fries, three boys who were embarrassed when I said ‘Hi’ to them on my way in have just stopped to say ‘good-bye’ to me on their way out. It’s a complicated relationship we develop with our students. It’s good. And it takes time.)
Anyway, this kid…I catch up to him and say, “Hey, Carlos!!” pretty loud.
Nothing.
He’s got headphones on. Or ear-peg sound whatever they’re called. And he’s probably got the Walkman turned up to 11 and he’s kickin’ some Steely Dan or Menudo or something else the kids are listening to.
So I tapped him on the shoulder. He was startled and took the sound drops out of his ears. He smiled and shook my hand. He said he was doing good. I told him I just left school. I had been grading papers…heading home.
I asked him where he was going. “To work.”
“Cool. Where do you work?”
“Downtown on 9th Street.”
“What do you do down there?”, I asked.
“Fuck you, man.”
I’m rattled. But we keep walking. I’m thinking back…ok…he’s not sharpest tack in the box, but he’s not an asshole….Try again.
“Carlos…what was that? What do you do downtown?”
A truck goes by.
“Fuck you, man.”
“What? Are you saying ‘fuck you’ to me?”
“What? No. I no say.”
“That’s what I thought you said….stop walking…what did you say? What is your job? Because I thought you said ‘fuck you, man.’”
“No. Vacuuming.”
“Oh.”
I’m going to go have some fries and write this up. I think I see some kids I know in there.
Mr. Teachbad
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He’s got headphones on. Or ear-peg sound whatever they’re called. And he’s probably got the Walkman turned up to 11 and he’s kickin’ some Steely Dan or Menudo or something else the kids are listening to.
Oh c’mon Mr. T-Bad. Are you just being your hilarious self?? Walkman? Menudo? Steely Dan? What decade are you referring to? You can do better than that!
I’m referring to the decade with which I am most familiar and comfortable. It’s your favorite flavor of ice cream when the cake is stale..
I wanna vacuum, too!
;P
Probably embarrassed at his job…High school seniors think they are going to be “Boss” when they graduate soon find out otherwise.
Yea well, he no say he got no job.
You should teach for one more year, then get a publisher to pick up your blog. You will make oodles of money and then be able to quit teaching. haha
Olli…you tease me.
Hooray! He has a job. And he’s going to it. He did learn something. Really. Not sarcasm. I always celebrate those achievements of life. He’s on the way. Now he can decide what he wants to do and where he wants to go.
And he learned that Mr Teachbad is just another guy doing the best he can. It’s all good.
OlliOlli no tease Mr. T-Bad. Seriously, I retired a couple of years ago and colleagues still scream at me: “WRITE THE BOOK”! They trust me because I was an English major and taught English. I am the type who needs a push. Wanna collaborate?
I forgot to mention Mr. T-Bad. Now that you know I am retired, you also know that the decade with which you are so familiar, is the same decade with which I am most familiar.
This reminds me of an incident I had earlier this year. I was told “The Network” was coming in observe me during a specific period. I warned the kids and on we go with the lesson. About halfway through the class the people come in and sit in the back. I thought all the kids saw them. So, we are going along happily in Think, Pair, Share and on to a peer editing session complete with a rubric. Suddenly, one girl yells out, “MY COOCHIE”. I thought I would have a heart attack. She says it again and I give the old, “Hey, Language!” comment. (This is a generally good girl and I am perplexed as to why she would yell this.) She calls me over and asks what I thought she said. I give her a crazy look. Now she and the girl next to her are laughing. The second girl had asked her the last name of a classmate: Marcucci. She had whispered it 2 or 3 times before in exasperation yelled “MARCUCCI”. I couldn’t help myself I started to laugh too. Made a comment about getting older and needing a hearing aid, and carried on. I am not sure how much of this was actually witnessed by my guests, but the laughter surely was.
The lesson was fine and the next time I saw the one approachable Network member I relayed the story to her. She had a good laugh about it and said she heard the girl call out, but did not know the rest of it.
The girls and I still laugh about it. It was a good moment, though horrifying at the time.
I accidentally drew a penis with a smiley face and legs on the board the other day when I was being observed. I was trying to draw the wheelchair access symbol. I just erased it and we all tried to not laugh and I was turning purple trying not to laugh…I don’t think the observer got the joke, thank God.