Holy Friday

Friday is a sacred day for many people. This is especially the case for teachers.
It's even better when it's a half day.
A half day on the last day of the semester to boot.


Today, was the Yom Kippur of teacher Fridays. Holiest of Holy teacher school days.

I was able to sleep in an extra hour this morning. 5:30am wake up instead of 4:30am. It felt as though I slept until noon. Glorious.

I picked up a bagel at Starbucks, as well as muffins for the kids, instead of the usual cereal. Yummmmm.

I didn't get irritated when DO took forever to come out to my car this morning because we weren't in a rush. Breathe in, breathe out, smile.

When we got to school, I was able to do the paperwork I needed to get done. That was completed while I was helping AR proof read a DBQ (Data Based Question) for his AP US History class and then quickly typed it up as he finished his English essay. Check, check, check on my To Do List.

When my students showed up for school, I only had 4 kids in my first class. They all wanted to do online reading games. Who can say no to that? This allowed me to work on putting up the 600+ picture collage on my wall. Fun Friday?

AD came upstairs and explained that his teacher didn't have anything for him to do. He had a pass to spend some quality time with me. What a pleasant surprise. I felt like a mother who's son decided to stay in on a weekend night instead of hang out with his friends. We worked on the collage together. Thank you for this sacred day.

My second class wanted to do independent reading. They were excited to pull their books out from the secret hiding spots they tucked them into - they didn't want anyone losing their spots. JT came up with a note to do work in my room. He wanted help with his online course. Not a problem, it's Holy Friday, I can do anything today. So we worked on English 11 while AD and I finished up a section of the collage (only 1 more section to go!).

Ms. C, the gym teacher, came up and asked if the kids were going to come to gym today. I took a poll with the students in my room and there was a resounding yes. Exactly what I wanted to hear. This would free up the last 45 minutes of the half school day for me to handle the scheduling for next semester. The universe was on my side.

At our end-of-day meeting, that happened to be held at 10:45am, the kids were totally compliant, happily listening, and content with the schedule changes. They had thoughtful questions and they said they were ready for the change. This never happens. Holy Friday...

After setting the schedules, Ms. L and I took MD, DO, and AR out to lunch at 12:30p as the school day had finished. I had promised AR that whoever from my usual morning crew came to school would get to go out to lunch with me. (This was an attempt to get DT to come to school, but he was not tempted by my food bribes.) They claim they had never been to a Mexican restaurant, so Ms. L and I decided to make this a cultural learning experience as well as lunch. It was thrilling to be out of the building and off school grounds during daylight. This hasn't happened to me in months... Holy Friday.

Upon returning, word got out about a faculty basketball game. I went up to my room, spoke with Mrs. S who was having a minor panic attack about all of the SPED paperwork that needed to get done, and then brought my work to the gym to watch the faculty basketball game as I typed. There is no better background to tedious, repetitive, unnecessary paperwork than a fun/casual basketball game. My blood pressure never rose for a second during the 2.5 hours I was sitting doing my work. Peace be with you on Holy Friday.

After collecting my things, I brought MD and DO home. The traffic didn't bother me – I was in no rush. I got home around 6pm, three hours earlier than usual.

I sat on my couch, played around on Facebook, ordered some Chinese food, and then hunkered down with my evening project: mending AR's favourite uniform pants. He ripped the crotch so many times that they couldn't be sewn back together. I bought a patch last weekend, and never got around to fixing them during the week. Holy Friday was the day to get it done.

While working on this project, I caught up on one of my favourite TV shows (Parenthood), and spent 3 hours ironing on the patch, then sewing the edges to make sure that it won't rub his leg the wrong way. The entire time that I sat there, I thought about how happy I was. There was nowhere else I wanted to be. There was nothing else I'd rather be doing. Sitting on my couch on Holy Friday night, eating Chinese food, watching Parenthood, and sewing was perfection.

And then, it snowed. Holy Friday was complete.

"Ms. Walka... You gotta stop crying..."

When I feel an extreme emotion (happy, sad, excited, frustrated, angry, scared, etc.) I have two possible reactions.

1. Laugh

2. Cry

The reaction is dependent on the situation, as well as the severity. For my most intense emotions, I cry.

This evening we had a situation where two students got into a fight. The problem with this was it was me, 4 students (2 of which were the ones fighting) and a security guard. 

The long story short is that these two students were on the verge of strangling one another (literally) and I was doing everything in my power to keep them separated until other adults showed up. While I was doing this, I was getting punched, pushed, smacked, kicked, you name it. These boys are not small either. Thankfully they aren't taller than me, but they are significantly stronger than me.

Everyone is fine. A few bumps, bruises, and scratches, but nothing serious. However, when me and another adult finally got the boys separated, the other adult got one boy outside while I had the other pinned against a piece of furniture. I wasn't moving, I was out of breath, and two boys who had shown up in the midst of the fight kept saying, "Ms. Walker, are you ok?! Let go. We've got him. You can let go. Are you hurt??"

I let go. They grabbed the boy. All 3 looked at me. I walked to the other side of a door and began hyperventilating and crying. They all froze on the other side of the door. They could see me through the window, and several of the boys froze. 

Ms. Walker is crying.

Shit.

We really messed up this time...

This was the expression on everyone's face, except one.

The boy who got into the fight. The one that had hit me. Pushed me. Shoved me. Nearly cost me my job.

He continued to pace around the hallway, separated from everyone else. The other two boys opened the door and asked if I was ok. I couldn't speak. I told the boy who got into the fight to come up with me to my classroom. One of his friends met us and talked to him as I walked and sobbed my way to my classroom.

I got some water for me and the boy. I was shaking. My breathing sounded like a standard car with a broken gear shift. My eyes looked as though I was having some type of allergic reaction.

But that didn't matter. The boy was busy with his phone, texting and reading Facebook posts.

DO, a child that many refer to as my son, walks in and stops. 

DO: Ms. Walka... you ok?

Me: I'll be alright.
DO: Are you sure??
I nod my head and I try to take a deep breath and fail.

He sits down and just stares at me. I put my head back in my hands and try to stop crying. But I can't. I'm too angry. I'm too hurt. I'm too disappointed.

I'm feeling way too much.

The other teacher calls.

"Are you ok?"
"Yeah, I'm just shook up at the moment. I'll be ok."
"Alright, I have some boys here for you."
"Yeah, i’m their ride. I’ll let their parents know we’re running late."
"Ok, let me know if you need anything."
"Sounds good. I'm holding onto one of them for a minute so we can keep distance between them. Let V go."
"I hear ya. See you in a few."

I'm breathing more evenly. I still have tears coming down my face and I hide my face to try and keep the kids from seeing how I look.

DO: Ms. Walka... you gotta stop crying.
Me: I know. I'm trying.
DO: I don't like it. Can you stop?
Me: Honestly? I'm not sure.
DO: Oh...

I finally get myself together enough to walk downstairs. Every time someone tries to talk to me, tears stream down my face.  The other teacher, who asks if I'm ok, causes me to collapse into his arms. CM, who asks me to drive him somewhere inconvenient, pushes me to yell at the top of my lungs and hyperventilate. (He also stole $60 from me the other day and he doesn't know that I found out about 3 hours earlier...)

CM: Ms. Walker, they're not home.
Me: What would you like me to do about it??
CM: Can you drive me to my brother's house?
Me: You know what? No. I can't. I am tired. It's Friday night. I just got the shit kicked out of me and I want to go home. Your friend's house is no where close to anywhere I'm going right now. So, no. I can't.
CM: But–
Me: No. No "but". This is not my problem. You can figure it out. I want to go home.
CM: Ok...

I am full on crying again. Breathing like I have asthma. Coughing as though I have emphysema. The other 3 boys Look at each other and then  to me, not sure what to do.

DO: Ms. Walka, you should really stop crying.
Me: I'm sorry - I'm trying.

I drop of MD. "I hope you sleep well, Ms. Walker."

I drop of AR. "You gonna be alright, Ms. Walker? Make sure you get some sleep."

As I'm driving DO home, we get to a stop light and I look at him. He looks back at me and frowns. He goes back and forth between my eyes, having a hard time processing what I look like. He looks down, and holds up his fist to pound [read:sign of affection].

Me: I'm really sorry that you had to see me cry like this, DO. I know it's really uncomfortable.
DO: Yeah. I just don't understand why you're crying.

Why was I crying? I wasn't feeling any real pain at the moment, I had too much adrenaline in my system. No one said anything particularly mean to me. What was the big deal?

It's hard to explain how you can cry from disappointment. It's hard to explain how you can cry from frustration. It's difficult to explain that you can cry from rage.

Me: I'm just not used to things like that. It hurt my feelings that the boys didn't care whether I was in the way or not. Whether I got hurt or not. Whether I lost my job or not. They just cared that they hurt the other boy. It really hurt my feelings.
DO: Well, I don't like that you're crying. It's hard to look at you.
Me: Yeah, I know. I'll try my best never to cry in front of you again. But no promises. Some things I just can't control.
DO: As long as you try.
Fist bump.

I drop off DO.
Me: Good night  [cough cough gag]
DO: Cover your mouth when you cough.
Me: I did!
DO: No you didn't.
He smiles like a goofball as he walks away.
I laugh, and sniffle. My breathing becomes a little more regular.

My coworker/mentor calls and checks in around 10:57p. She heard that I might need an ear. I tell her what happened and begin crying again. She tells me to call if I need anything and get some sleep. I hang up and try to collect myself.

AR texts me around the time I got home
AR: U calmed down?
Me: Yeah, I'm really sorry you had to see me like that - I know it's not fun. I'll try my best to be calmer next time. You good?
AR: Yea. Now that you calm. What happened.
Me: [I explain what happened between the two boys and how I was in the middle of the mess]
AR: Wat dnt kill u make u stronger
Me. True that. As always, stuff could be worse.
AR: Anything got swollen or bruised?
Me: Not that I can see. I'll know tomorrow. Hopefully not. Just sore right now.
AR: Get some sleep.
Me: Shall do. You too. Gnight. Thanks for checking in.


Then I stopped crying.

32:10

I was talking with Ms. B yesterday about how I'm nervous for the rest of this school year. Our staff has fallen into a deep hole with our moral and it is (in my humble opinion) affecting our kids maturity rate.

Usually, by this time of the school year, most kids will have matured a bit. Stopped being as combative, whine less, work harder, etc. But this year, we are not seeing the same type of maturity. By Winter Break, we need the break, but we're not about to pull our hair out or lose it like we were this year. This is a serious problem as we have a solid 3 month stretch ahead of us with only two 3-day weekends.

So I started brainstorming with Ms. B about what we can do to change this negative, whiney, self-centered outlook of our staff. We thought of happy hours, cupcakes, and little cards. These are all nice, but a longer-term, more sustainable answer must be thought of. I can only buy so many cupcakes with my paycheck....

That's when I told her, it's all about the YES.

I get a lot of flack from other teachers in my building about "doin' too much".

(That is our kids vernacular for going above and beyond, outside the call of duty, or using an extra amount of energy to do something. They usually do that in reference to you making them comply with your directions, but we teachers like to use it as well in our own way. Anyways, I digress.)

The reason I end up doin' too much is because I say yes to teachers, students, staff, custodians, construction workers, the random person in the building, far more often than I should. I don't mind saying yes, as long as it pertains to helping someone else out. This causes me to be involved in more things than most, and also be more helpful than most. All because of the word YES. [This explains why one of my New Year's Resolutions is to say NO 10 times.]

So I am going to challenge my compadres at work with this: Say YES 32 times in one day, and only say NO 10 times. Choose your words wisely.

We're supposed to have a 2:1 ratio in our classroom with praise:discipline. For every negative or disciplinary comment you say, you must say two compliments or positive things to students. While this is a nice ratio, and a nice thought, it's been lost and it's for more stable environments. Plus, that doesn't get anyone involved in anything. We need people to be more involved. Thus, I am changing this positive compliment into a YES, and the ratio must be amped up significantly. We are talking about a HUGE moral problem, a simple 2:1 isn't going to fix that...

I must wait for the "opportune moment" as Jack Sparrow would say - I'll report back how it goes. I don't imagine it's going to be well received by all my colleagues, but I think I'll give out cupcakes when I introduce it. Cupcakes make everything better.

If people actually do it, I bet that after a week or so people will start to feel a lot more invested in school and a little less down in the dumps. After 160 YESes, it will be hard not to be involved, and thus more invested, in the school.