The Gardener

Friday. High school art. Seventh period.

It had been a fairly mellow day. The students had projects to finish. Most weren't, but they were chilled out on their Chromebooks. (As the following week was finals week, and final grades would be due in a week, I figured they were either done with their work or they had given up. As long as they didn't disturb the handful of kiddos who were clearly on task, I wasn't terribly concerned.) 

And that is how seventh period started. 

But, about 45 minutes into class (we're on a block schedule with 90-minute periods, so this was halfway through class), Ashton, a boy seated right in front of me, decided he needed to talk to the boy in front of him. He called him "BJ" but then changed that to "blowjob", informing me that was really his name. 

(While the boy's name did start with a B, neither his middle initial nor his last name started with a J. Nor was his name something like Benjamin, which would have made sense being abbreviated to BJ.) 

The boy ignored him, so Ashton got louder. 

When I stepped in, Ashton suddenly had to do his art project. He "needed" a leaf from outside. Fine, then. Go and get a leaf. 

Five minutes later, Ashton attempted to bring in a branch that was taller than him and about as wide. When I reacted as one would expect, he couldn't understand why I wouldn't allow him to bring this into class. 

He left only to return with part of the branch that he had pulled off of it. Still rather large. Not the leaf that he claimed to need. 

(His seat partner was with him, but he brought back a leaf and a flower and things that were more appropriately sized.)

Ashton kept getting up to go outside to get something else, and kept returning with branches. Huge ones. He put them on the desk of the girl behind him (until I told him to put his mess on his own desk) and he could not fathom why I was not pleased with what he was doing. 

Did he attempt to sketch what he had brought in the classroom? Of course not.

Ashton eventually cleaned up his mess, leaving most of what he collected in the trashcan right outside the door. 

And it was a mess. 

Not all ended up in the trash, though.

You can't really tell from the photos, but he had left leaves and other debris all over the ground there. 

The plant destruction wasn't great, but after class the teacher next door said that the tree really, really needed a trim, so this was a great excuse for him to use to complain to site maintenance. 

(I took all those pictures while talking to Mr. A.) 

I think Ashton thought he was funny. But on the bright side, this was a high school class. If I had had middle schoolers, I would have had bedlam. But, high schoolers? They barely reacted to all of this. (Which is probably why Ashton kept going bigger and bigger, hoping for a reaction from them.)