Whodunit?

Eighth grade English. It was the class that stole my clock. On a Friday. With an assembly scheduled.

Basically, I was doomed from the start.

I had gone over what their assignment was. They were doing the settling in thing, where they get their work out, they figure out what they need to do, and they get started. I turned away for a second (I think I was getting the roll sheet or some housekeeping thing like that), and that's when a sharp "pop" sounded.

And the class reacted to the stink bomb that someone threw.

Chaos ensued. Those closest to the offending smell fled the room. Others complained about the smell. Someone pulled out their perfume and sprayed. (It never fails. There's always someone who does this, and I always go after them as we don't know who might be allergic.)

I called security. (Well, I called the office and they called security...)

Victoria arrived. She got the class back in their seats and told them all to write down on a sheet of paper (without putting their names) what they knew of the incident.

While they were doing this, Anisha warned them not to be "snitches" and say anything.

Whether they listened to Anisha, they didn't know anything, or they just didn't want to say, it's hard to tell. But every single page had a variation of "I know nothing" on it.

Victoria pulled three students from class, one of whom was Anisha.

Upon Anisha's return, she informed the class that one of the boys who had been pulled had "taken the fall" for the incident. Apparently, he had stink bombs in his backpack. But it was clear that Anisha was telling the class it wasn't actually his fault.

I kind of wonder who the culprit is. Although, I was more concerned with getting the class back to some semblance of proper classroom behavior. This did actually occur, but only after several students who couldn't stand the smell fled.

I rather think it was one of them.

Those who remained were nose blind to the smell after a short while. And they know what's coming to them upon their teacher's return. They rather think they deserve whatever is coming.

What is your vice of choice after a particularly hard day? What is one way you tortured the substitute teachers you had in your classes? 

Today's A to Z Challenge post brought to you by the letter...

Calling his Mom

Two weeks prior, the last time I had covered this English class at the continuation high school, Jeremiah and I had a bit of a conflict. It's a long story which ends with him on a three-day suspension. So, while I wanted to be respectful of him, I also had to make sure he knew I was in charge.

The previous day, the class completed a first read of excerpts from "Song of Myself" by Walt Whitman. On this day, they were to look for textual evidence supporting attributes of the poet expressed in the poem. They were writing out their findings in a bubble map.

Jeremiah chose not to do his work. Also, he chose to sit in the front of the room. So, of course I stood over him and asked what he was getting done.

What he was doing was talking on his phone. Or playing his music too loud. Or accessing various apps on his phone (texting, Instagram, etc.). And he did not like being "singled out".

"Go sit over there," as he pointed to the chair behind the teacher's desk. "That's your seat..."

He did not agree that my job was actually to make sure he was getting something done. I was "picking on him" and he didn't like that one bit.

I walked the room. Then I returned to see he hadn't gotten any further on his assignment. And he wasn't having my nose in his business any longer.

"I'm going to call my mom..."

His phone was already out, so he pulled up his contacts and started the call.

"Oh, she'd better pick up..."

The phone rang and rang, but he got no answer. He hung up.

I'm not sure what he hoped to accomplish. Was his mom going to tell me that I should let her son sit in class and not do his schoolwork?

I managed not to break into laughter in front of the class. Barely. The student called his mom on me! *shakes head*

Reading Them the Riot Act

It was day 2 of the terrible, awful, no good 7th grade math class. Periods 1/2 (I had the same group for two periods) was actually kind of cooperative. At least, they were easier to deal with than on day 1.

4th period went nominally better. That could have been because I kicked one girl out fairly early. Unfortunately she returned...

Between the periods, the kiddos get to get up and walk around. They go outside. It's a nice break, and I'm more than happy to let them have it.

But something wasn't right. I can't tell you exactly what it was. A mood. A feeling. The kiddos were outside on the lawn, and they were all focused on the same thing.

A fight was coming.

I didn't hear the argument. But I've been in this situation a couple times before, and I recognize the signs.

It was almost time for the passing period to end, so I waved them all inside.

And it got worse.

There was an argument happening, and one girl was pretty upset. The others weren't helping matters. So, I did the only thing I could do--I called the office.

The classroom was fairly close to the office, so within seconds, the kiddos saw the principal coming our way. Suddenly, silence.

When she arrived, I let her know that a fight was imminent. She let the class know she was not pleased with their behavior. And she got to the bottom of the incident. Turns out that the troublemaker girl I threw out the previous period was angry at another girl over a boy.

Naturally.

Issues removed from class, and things settled. For a bit.