CHAOS

I should have known better. I can turn down an assignment and do, if I know the class to be so out of control that my day would be not only a waste of time and energy, but also so exasperating that my head and belly ache.

The day before, I was teaching a fifth grade class next door and heard yelling, screeching and noises that sounded like furniture being thrown against the wall. And this was with their regular teacher -- although he was not there from the beginning of the year, and they supposedly had a rocky start with several substitutes.

But this excuse does not justify or begin to explain the chaos that existed in this fifth grade class, and the inability or unwillingness of the administration to deal with it adequately.

Almost all of the children know me from previous classes, so I am always optimistic that my constant presence as a teacher in that school protects me from most of the “Let’s get the sub” games. Not this time - attendance taking is always a potential minefield, due to my inability to pronounce names and spelling I’ve never heard or seen before.

Just when I think I’m familiar with many of the names, there are new ones, and this day, my failure to correctly enunciate a few names caused screams of laughter, head banging on the table and bodies falling off chairs. Not a good start. I separated the instigators from their cohorts -- of course, none of them were sitting in their assigned seats anyway -- and managed to get a few started on work their teacher had left for them. The rest covered their heads and faces in sweatshirt hoods and sprawled across the desks, or started firing wads of paper and pieces of crayons and erasers at each other.

For the kids that are in this classroom to get an education, it is criminal for them to be cheated out of the necessary learning and lose a year while whoever the teacher is struggles to maintain some form of civility. The existing work indicated that most of the students were performing (or not) at two or three years below grade level.

My next attempt to quiet them met with the arm over the elbow “F... You” sign, in my face, at which time I reached for the boy’s shirt, not his body, just his shirt, in an attempt to move him away. Big mistake.

When I accepted the position, the office was fully aware this was going to be tough, and I was promised “hands on” help. The cavalry was called and the new assistant principal did remove two of the provocateurs. Usually this action would have a chilling effect on a class. Not here, but the crescendo was reduced to a clamor.

The classroom phone rang and the vice principal demanded to know if I had touched the boy’s shirt, and when assured I had, went on to berate me for my action.

The boys returned to class with large grins and high fives.