recycling 5

24 May 2006


nothin says "we missed you" like a softball to the shins
Current mood: content
Category: Jobs, Work, Careers

this category thing is really stupid. i wanted to put career and life.

so i think i'm on schedule or ahead of schedule with my thesis tortu...writing. i figured i should call in and find out if there were any supply jobs so i could make some extra loot (plane tickets apparently don't grow on trees! who knew?). i talked to the VP last week and he let me know that he needed someone for tuesday to friday this week.

no prob.

yesterday was my first day back at this school since supplying for a few days in february. i taught there at the beginning of the year while covering someone's mat leave. the person came back to her job and i retreated to the library to frantically start (um...continue) research for my thesis.

unfortunately for the kids, this woman is very strict. the rumour is she doesn't even smile when she's around the students. they were used to me being young, witty, hip and talkin that street jive that those kids learn from BET. the transition left some of them traumatized.

so my arrival yesterday was akin to the hoopla at the toronto international film fest - without the lights, cameras, red carpets or security guards. students were saying hi and waving excitedly. twas nice. when i walked into a room of kids, one of the boys who was in my class in fall latched on to me for dear life. apparently i need to return because the other teacher "hates" him and is failing him. whatever the case was, it was quite awkward.

given the number of pedophiles (jordana and derek start hooting like peewee's playhouse for the word of the day- and he was a perv too), there are lots of rules about us hugging students, putting our hands on students, or generally touching them at all. i refrain from all of that whenever possible. however, given that he is 14, is 3 inches taller than me and has about a 20-30 pound advantage, i had no choice but to wait til his exuberant desperation had subsided enough to give my forearms some wiggle room to protest.

upon release, he declared his love for me. uh. ok.

"that's slightly inappropriate, _______, but thanks..."

i had to field many questions such as "are you coming back?" "where are you teaching next year?" "can you be our insert subject teacher, because i hate mr/ms insert name. they're insert disparaging comment" "why did you have to leave?" "are you coming back tomorrow?"

they also have to adjust to my giant black peoples hair. some walk right past me because they don't recognize me with the fro or they don't expect to see me at the school. one kid was running in one direction as he glanced at me while racing by. i stopped and waited. i heard "shhpt shhhpt shhpt". he ran back, stopped, stared, then yelled "MISS L!!!!!!!"

i've also had to stop people (grade 8s who should know better) from randomly reaching out and touching my hair like they have tourrette's. if i dont poke you in your eye to see what it feels like, then you shouldn't be touching my hair just because you think it will be fun.

during lunch duty on tuesday, i was standing with another teacher, chatting and shivering in the breeze [steups was frackin cold!], when i heard "HEADS UP!" my super teacher peripheral vision which allows me to see 360 degrees without turning my head registered the fact that there was indeed a low-flying projectile hurtling towards where we were standing. i didn't move because it wasn't near my head.

silly me.

the "soft"ball careened off my shin before zipping on to land harmlessly on the concrete. i'm cool, i'm a soldier. i didn't even look at my throbbing shin to see the damage.

the kid who missed the fateful catch yelled a concerned, "i know that hurt, miss L." yes, yes it did. but you're not going to catch ME crying! no sir. i'm tough. made of steel.

ow.

at home later i assessed the carnage. a nice elliptical purpleish welt the size of a kiwi had formed on my left shin.

teaching is great.