One Prep!

Every time I consider leaving, the school gives me a reason to stay. It's like they have a sixth sense, special antennaes to feel out escaping teachers.

Five years ago they scheduled me to cover the suspension room all day. Yes, to me, this was a reason to stay. I'm warped. A year of being suspended brought me back to my senses and I was ready to mpoe on. They made me a Dean. Two years later, suffocated by work and graduate school, I reached my limits there too. The theater teacher retires and they give me the theater program. One theater class, per session for planning and the chance to see twelve free shows a year. Well, too good to pass up.

Until now. Teaching theater, being a Dean, organizng at least six field trips a semester and teaching a second unrelated prep has out me over the edge. The students want to know why we don't do a school show. The AP wants me to prepare my Support Service class for three different state exams. The teachers want me to fix all thier problem kids.


I actually have a life outside this building. I just got married. I'm leaving for a honeymoon. My rent is being raised another four hundred dollars. I have to be out by February 28th. Occassionally, I like to go to yoga. But, usually my exercise bag just sits, fully packed, next to my desk, in case, I actually have the time to make the 4:15 pm beginner class.

Now, my AP tells me I will only have one prep next semester. My schedule will be to teach two theater class electives. In one room.

How can I say no to that?

But, in the Spring, I am definitely looking for a new job.

Wait, THIS is Important

The Deans' Office was in chaos again this morning. I had to meet with the head dean and teacher of the walk out girl. We have to figure out what to do with this girl. Her mother does vodoo. Things are being hidden under her bed. Her mother's bed. Do you call ACS for such a thing?

The secreatry calls from the outer office. She cant find a file. Another dean comes running into the office. She has a question. She wants the head dean to help her. A parent is coming in and she doesnt know what the case is about. The parent will be arriving in the next hour or so. She needs the head dean's attention. The teacher and I sit there, conversation stalled. The head dean asks the other dean to...just wait. No! The other dean insists, this is important! Another teacher comes in, what is to be done about the girl who insists I dont speak to her? The secretary calls that the head dean has a phone call. This new teacher huffs. I said I wanted to talk to her after class and she refused. The secreatry screams, THE PHONE!

The teacher and I laugh. The head dean laughs. This is crazy!

The other dean scowls. Pay attention to me, Pay attention me. This is important.

She thinks we are laughing at her. And, the rampage begins.

This only makes me laugh more.

I am regressing.

I Can Walk Out Too

This afternoon I had to cover a meeting with a student, her mother, her guidance counselor and major teacher. I was there as the Dean. All Knowing, All Powerful, Whip These Kids into Shape Guru, Dean. Sometimes I wonder how many years it takes for a teacher to get that tired that s/he thinks a Dean can make a student behave that hasn't been behaving for three years. I mean really - I give consequences - I don't perform miracles. It is obviously a bigger issue. Bigger than the teacher. Bigger than a consequence. If I had the energy to do so, I would say it is obvioulsy a guidance issue. I would explain, but I just can't anymore.

I talked sternly. The parent looked pleadingly. The teacher explained. The counselor counseled on why her program could not be changed. The student looked at her fingers. I spoke about consequences "Possible Suspension!" the parent about futures "It's not her fault she's acting this way" the teacher about her bad behavior. The student sucked her teeth. I tried to counsel her, her mother yelled at her, the teacher gave up. Three adults sat there, leaning forward, elbows on the table, invested. The student shot out of her chair and left the conference room.

"I could do that too" I announced to the room. Yes. They said. You could. "I could just get up and leave in the middle of a meeting just like that." They looked at me.

I think I'm losing it.

The Seventh Year Stretch

I have spent most of the morning walking in circles. Not because I have nothing to do, on the contrary, I have too much to do and not enough energy to get it done. I walked into the Deans' Office at 8:45 am and it was full of activity. A student pushed past a teacher who was blocking the doorway. The teacher says she pushed her. The student says she was trying to get by. We weren't there.

A year ago, I'd want to know all the details. Who, what, where, when and what can I do to help. A professional version of a nosy kid who likes to be in the middle of it all, but now for a good purpose. This morning, I walked right past. Whatever. I dont want to know.

Instead, I plan for my Support Service class (I'm trying to prepare them for the Reading and Writing RCTs though I have no specialization in teaching reading or special education) which I dont do at home because I just can not bring myself to. Then, I realize I must get to the 8th Floor, Principal's Office, to get permission slips for the show I am taking my senior Theater Elective students to go see. The 8th Floor, my office is on the 1st. Ugh. I could wait and have a monitor do it for me but what if she doesnt show up?

I just stand there. I walk into the hallway. I walk back to my desk. I sit down. I check my e-mail. I look for a student I need to reprimand for cursing at a teacher. The teacher called her a Punk, so she called her a Fucking Punk. Pretty fair, no? I know this student. She is in my support service class. She had a bad day yesterday. She is obsessed with her phone. I know she isnt in school yet. Probably wont come today. I could call her at home. I could call her mom again.

I go to get the permission slips instead.

I have been working seven years to get to this point. I have received about a ten thousand dollar raise since I began and three new titles, with new responsibilities. My assistant principal makes a little over a hundred thousand dollars. And, I'm craving some superficial job perks like an 'in' at a cool restaurant or maybe a left over fancy gift bag. Either one would be fine.

My inner clock knows the bell will ring in about ten minutes.

And, really, when it comes to teaching at an inner city public high school in NYC, I have it good. Real good.