How Long 'til Christmas Break?

I am so tired of being depressed at work, but it's just getting worse. I keep thinking that's not possible, but I am continually mistaken. I need to stop thinking about it. Bad things just keep happening.

Jennifer Hudson is a graduate of the high school where I work. So everyone here feels a certain level of kinship with her, and many of our teachers knew her. One of our teachers is related to her, as are several of our students.

Friday we had a teacher professional development day, so the students got the day off. During our general meeting, our principal reminded us that Jennifer had a new movie out, and that the media wanted to talk to our students and staff about it. She told us to be careful of what we say to the press. When Dreamgirls came out, our school did receive a great deal of media attention. Jennifer even came back to our school to meet our students. I was on maternity leave, so I missed out on all this excitement.

But even before my leave started, we had to decorate at least one of our classroom bulletin boards with Jennifer Hudson stuff. It got to be kind of ridiculous, but I understand why we were so elated. Not many of our students go on to much success of any kind, much less the fame and acclaim of Jennifer Hudson. (Although I think it's important to mention that my school has several famous graduates: Lou Rawls, Mr. T, and Bernie Shaw -- the retired CNN newsman.)

Once I got home from school, I heard about the shootings of Jennifer's mother and brother, and that her nephew was missing. It is so sad and awful, and watching the footage of her sister Julia on the news was very upsetting. It's amazing to me that Jennifer was able to even make it out of the Englewood neighborhood. If I were her, I would never come back.

All weekend I think everyone was hoping that her nephew would be ok, but I expected the worst. It took me an hour and a half to get to work on Monday, thanks to two accidents on the Kennedy Expressway. I got to work and was pretty miserable already. Then I found out that Jennifer's nephew Julian had been found dead in her brother's stolen Suburban. Julian was seven years old. He had been shot seven times, including in the face. Who could do such a thing?

This story is receiving so much media attention because Jennifer Hudson is famous. Unfortunately, these sorts of tragedies happen all the time in this city. People wondered why no one called the police when neighbors heard gunshots around 9 a.m. on Friday. People hear gunshots all the time. The police aren't going to respond to that.

I think I'm too sensitive for this job. Then I think -- what the hell am I complaining about? I don't live in Englewood. I don't have to worry about hearing gunshots and ignoring them because the police won't come. I know that my children will get to attend good schools and are being raised in positive surroundings. Why should I get to be upset?

And more significantly, why aren't my students more upset? Why does this sort of tragedy have to be normal for them? I have been to maybe five funerals in my lifetime. My kids go to funerals all the time. You can't turn on the news or read the paper without hearing about another CPS student dying. A fifteen year old was killed in his home this week. It's out of control.

A few of my students have mentioned the Hudson family murders. One of my students is related to Jennifer -- his mother is her cousin. I had read an article in the Chicago Tribune about the murders, and my student's mother was quoted. She is a minister. I asked the student how he was, and he said he was fine. He doesn't talk much. I wonder how a minister deals with a situation like this. How does God let this happen?

According to the Tribune, William Balfour, Julia Hudson's estranged husband and the main suspect in the murders, was supposed to have a parole meeting on Friday. Instead he called his parole officer and said he was babysitting. That makes me want to throw up. I don't understand how you could kill anyone, but least of all a child. How do you kill a child? How can you shoot him seven times? Including in the face? I will never understand that level of depravity.

I'm really trying to find something positive to write about. I've got to stop thinking about this stuff. I wish that these stories would go away, but they aren't. That's one of the tough things about a job like mine. I hear and see this stuff all the time. I am not as tough as my students. I'm not inured to this stuff. I don't want to be. This stuff should affect people. I just wish I knew what to do about it.

Here's What I'm Dealing With. . .

My students have many, many obstacles in their way. Most of them live in substandard housing. Most have been educated in substandard schools, so they don't have the necessary academic skills to aid in their success. And most have family lives that are unstable.

But there is another obstacle that I think is a huge detriment to their lives. They have no idea how to handle conflict. Their lives are riddled with conflict, and they respond in the least positive manner possible.

I have thought for a while now that if I had really wanted to be a successful teacher in CPS, I should have gotten a master's degree in social work instead of one in secondary education. I think every teacher in an urban district should have to have a social work background. We deal with so many issues that have nothing to do with the curriculum, but they take over everything else in the classroom. At least with that kind of training, perhaps some good could be accomplished.

Two incidents today reminded me of this need for conflict management skills. Both incidents happened during the same class period. It was, as usual, a long day.

My fifth period class is definitely my best class on my new schedule. It's a junior class, and there was a science teacher covering that class for five weeks. The teacher actually gave the students meaningful work to do and so the class was not just chaos for the first few weeks of the year. When I got them, they were glad to have a real teacher.

We were supposed to go to the computer lab today, but there was a mix up in the scheduling, so we had to go back to my classroom. As I had not prepared a day's lesson (I really should know better than that -- that's another issue), I was scrambling to find something for my kids to work on.

I'm sitting at my desk taking attendance on my computer. Suddenly these two girls in my class, Ebony and Ashley, start yelling and screaming at each other. Ebony was my student last year, and I know she can be quick to fly off the handle. She was suspended for fighting several times last year. But she's a good girl, and she had talked to me about how she wants to work hard this year, get good grades, and not get into so many fights.

Ashley I don't know well, but she seems like a nice girl. This was one of the first times I had heard her say much. She usually just sits at her desk and does her work. I should mention that Ashley is eight months pregnant.

So these two continue to scream and shout and curse at each other. I'm yelling at them to stop. It looks as if they are going to start fighting. I have a policy of not breaking up fights, because I have seen too many teachers get punched or knocked over, and I just don't think it's worth it. Plus, as long as I have yelled "Stop!" I have fulfilled my legal obligation. I yelled "Stop!" at least ten times.

This goes on. Kids are milling outside my door trying to get a view of the fight. Another teacher walks in and tries to get the girls to stop. He gives up fairly quickly. There is no security guard on the 3rd floor -- according to some of the kids in the hall watching my girls, there was a big fight downstairs, so all the security has been diverted.

Finally I walk over to Ebony and grab her by the shoulders. I keep saying, over and over, "Ebony. Ebony. Ebony. Ebony. Just stop. It's not worth it. You don't have to have the last word. Stop it."

Ebony is yelling at Ashley that she won't hit her, because she doesn't fight pregnant girls, that she won't go to jail for assaulting Ashley's baby. Ashley keeps yelling back to not worry about her baby -- that she is going to kick Ebony's ass.

(One thing about my kids, they respect pregnancy. Since becoming pregnant, no one will let me carry anything, and the kids are a bit less likely to curse at me. I often hear things like, "If you weren't pregnant Mrs. Fuji, you'd get it," and the like.)

I keep chanting in Ebony's ear. She stops and looks at me. I repeat that it's not worth it, just to let it go, and that this is stupid. That I know she's trying to have a good year.

After about five more minutes of this, Ebony sits down. Ashley yells a bit more, then she sits down, too. Another student, Kiara, sits between them. She is friends with both of them, so she decides that she will keep them separated.

Now I'm trying to figure out what to do next. I decide that we are going to take a little field trip. I still don't have the books I need to teach my new schedule. I get the key to the book room, and make all my kids (minus Ashley, who is still mad and shouldn't be carrying books in her advanced stage of pregnancy) go to the book room with me and carry books to our classroom.

We get to the book room on the first floor. The room is pretty small -- it's basically a big closet. So most of the kids are outside the room in the hallway while I sort through the books and figure out which ones to get.

I'm doing that, when I hear loud male voices yelling and cursing. I'm thinking, "Now what???" I hear someone cursing out one of my students. I walk out, and it's a security guard calling my student many, many inappropriate names, and acting like he's going to punch my student in the mouth.

My student, Clarence, is yelling back, although I don't think he cursed at the security guard. The security guard (who is also the assistant football coach) is getting more and more agitated. He's called Clarence a pussy and a bitch and a motherfucker. Clarence is telling him that he can't say that stuff to him; he's just a security guard. The guard yells that he is a man and Clarence is a bitch and he will call him whatever he pleases. On and on and on. He keeps getting closer to Clarence, as if he is going to hit him.

I'm yelling at Clarence to just walk away, just come into the book room with me. That again, this is not worth it.

At last Clarence comes into the book room and the guard walks away. We get our books and get back to the classroom.

In the classroom, I ask Clarence to explain to me what happened to start this encounter. He said that the guard yelled at Clarence and some of the other boys in the hall to be quiet. Which was definitely warranted. Clarence replied that the guard was just mad because his football team keeps losing. Clarence says he was just playing around when he said that, but obviously the guard was unhappy about that remark.

So the guard became unhinged and that's when the yelling and cursing began. I reminded Clarence that when a student is in a situation like that, he is not going to win. No matter what. Our security guards get away with murder. They often pick fights with the kids they don't like. They goad them into fighting with them, so they have an excuse to send them home for a few days. I told Clarence I was proud of him for not letting it get to that level.

Then I'm trying to decide what to do about this guard. On the one hand, I want report him to the administration. His behavior was completely out of hand and inappropriate and unprofessional. No way should that be ok.

However, he is a security guard, and more importantly, he is a coach. There is no way on this earth that I will win this battle. Were I to report him, I would be ignored (at best) by administration, and for the rest of the year the security guards would go out of their way to torture me.

The security guards are a tight knit bunch. They have been known to sexually harass some of the female students and staff, but with me, they are good. I talk football with them. They all know that I went to Arkansas and am a huge Arkansas fan. Many of them are fans of the SEC, so this works in my favor. I talk football with them, they are nice to me, and if I have a student who is a problem, I can usually count on them to take him off my hands for a class period until things calm down.

This particular guard has always been nice to me. I know he played football at Illinois for at least a season, although I thought he had told me that he had a degree from there. He absolutely seems more educated and together than many of the guards. I decide that I will talk to him myself.

The next class period I realize that there are still some books I haven't gotten. I take those kids to the book room. (See how I exploit my students?) On the way there, we run into that security guard.

The kids walk on, and I ask the guard if I can talk to him for a moment. He stops and I said, "Look, I know Clarence made you mad, but you just can't respond like that to a student. You are the grown up here. I try so hard to make these kids understand the correct way to deal with situations like that."

He said that the kid was mouthing off about things he shouldn't have. I told him I understood. That I know the kids can push your buttons. But that I have to remind myself, often, that I'm the adult. That I have to try to set a good example.

Then I reminded him that these kids have no examples of people who handle conflict positively. And that they have so few adult male role models. That they need to see him, a grown man, behaving appropriately. Please, next time, just try not to lash out like that, because it is just not helpful.

He said that he was over it, and was done. He said, "But I bet that kid is still upset about it." I said that I thought that kid was still upset about it. And that that's part of the problem.

Then he said it was no big deal. That he gets this kind of shit from his woman at home all the time, that he sure doesn't need it at work. I wasn't sure what he meant by that, but I thanked him for his time and went to get the rest of my books.

At this point in my career, I have changed my measure of success. I used to think I'd turn my kids on to the beauty and magic of literature. Now, if I can get a few kids to think that reading is not the worst thing in the world, that's something. But if I can get even a couple of kids to see that you don't have to make everything into a fight, that is a bigger accomplishment.(I'm not sure if that has happened.)

My kids always ask me if I've been in any fights. I tell them never in my life. They ask if I ever get mad. I tell them, all the damn time. But I pick my battles. When my boss makes me change a kid's grade, or talks down to me, of course I get mad. But unlike my kids, I don't feel the need to put her in her place. I say, "Yes ma'am" and I move on.

The smartest thing I have ever learned in my life, and that I tell my students regularly, is to just shut your mouth. When in doubt, don't say anything. I tell my students that this policy has saved me so much time and kept me out of so much trouble. That that is pretty much the secret to my success so far. They never believe me, but it's true.

I try to make them understand that they spend so much time and energy on this perception of how tough they are. I don't care what people think of me. They'll say that my boss might think I am weak. I tell them that why should I care? I know I'm not weak. I'm getting my paycheck, doing my job. I'm not going to waste valuable energy on crap like that. Life is too short.

There was a shooting on a Chicago Transit Authority bus a couple of weeks ago. A CPS senior girl was killed. She was just sitting on the bus. Do you know why she got shot? Because an idiot walked past another idiot on the bus, and accidentally brushed the other idiot's arm. This led to an argument, and both idiots had guns. The one idiot got off the bus, but shot into the bus as he left. And now a 17 year old girl is dead.

How is it worth it? I ask my kids that all the time. I don't understand why something that trivial takes on life or death meaning. Having to have the last word should not create a life or death situation. You are not very tough when you are dead.

I worry about my kids all the time. So far, I only know for certain that two of my former students (this is my 6th year teaching in CPS) are in jail, but there are probably more than that. I don't think any of my former students are dead, but I don't know. I know that the reason such a huge deal is made out of eighth grade graduation, prom, and high school graduation is that these are three of the only milestones many of our kids achieve.

But maybe if our kids could learn how to deal with conflict, they could accomplish more milestones? Maybe then I wouldn't get yelled at or cursed at so much. Maybe then my kids could ride the bus in peace. Maybe they could live much longer lives, and fewer of them would go to prison. There would certainly be fewer fights. Maybe I should spend more time on that, and worry less about grammar. I wish I had more answers.

They Turned on the Freakin Heat!

Yesterday was the first day in several weeks when it was actually pretty seasonal outside and not super hot. We've had a long Indian Summer in Chicago, and most Chicagoans are really enjoying it. But if you teach in a high school with no air conditioning, in a tiny classroom on the third floor, these last few weeks have been hell. I hate when people misuse the word "literally," but I think it may apply in this instance.

I got to work yesterday morning, and after opening my two working windows, it was not too bad in my room. It was still on the warm side, but definitely bearable. I thought, "I'm going to start the day without being miserable!"

The high in Chicago was around 58 degrees, I believe. Cool enough to warrant wearing a jacket to work. I know better, though. I still only wear short sleeved shirts. I usually just throw on a hoodie, discarding it as soon as I get to my classroom.

After 3rd period, I walked over to a colleague's room. It was an oven in there. I asked what the deal was. Then we realized -- they had turned on the heat. You could see the heat radiating against the open windows.

I walked back to my room, and there it was. Apparently October 15 is the day CPS turns the heat on in its schools. Our school, of course, would be late in following such a directive.

But it's not cold yet. I don't understand this. CPS is so lax about so many things. Yet this is the one thing they get done in a timely fashion. I guess I should consider this a good thing. I don't. It's hot!

The kids walked in to my 5th period class, and immediately started yelling at me. They always assume that white people are just naturally cold, and that it was my idea to turn on the heat. Once they stop yelling and I can get a word in edgewise, I explain to them that I am not responsible for this decision. That I'm not responsible for many decisions at this school. And yes, I am also hot.

It's cooler outside today, so it's not as bad. Hopefully fall is finally here. It's a sin to complain about such things when there is an Arctic Chicago winter on the horizon, but I don't care. It'll always be hot in this room -- as it does get cold, the heat gets turned up. There is a schedule to the discomfort.

On Mondays and Tuesdays, it's really cold, because they turn off the heat over the weekend, and it takes a couple of days for the building to warm up. So those are the days when it's safe to wear a sweater or a long sleeved shirt -- seasonally appropriate clothing.

On Wednesdays, the heat is starting to kick in, so it's best to wear a t-shirt and open the windows.

By Thursday and Friday, it's stiflingly hot. You'll be sweating by the end of 5th period. Some people actually change into sleeveless tops and capri pants. The coaches wear shorts. I am jealous of the coaches in their shorts.

But no matter how hot it is, I'll still have kids wearing long sleeved shirts, hoodies, and jackets (all at the same time) yelling about how hot they are. I yell back to remove some layers. They refuse.

Then there's always one student who insists she's cold, and wants to shut the windows. She never wins -- the kids would riot if the windows were closed. And I'd be right there with them.

Here's What I'm Doing Right Now. . . (updated!)

...Sitting in an empty classroom. I kind of like sitting in an empty room. It's really quiet. But I'm supposed to be sitting in a room of 22 students. I'm not sure the students know that, though.

I took last Friday and this Monday off to go visit my family in Arkansas. I won't get to travel for much longer, and I wanted to see everyone again before my new baby boy arrives (he's due in January). So we finally found a decent fare and off we went. We had a fantastic time.

I get back to work on Tuesday, having no idea what wonders were awaiting me. I will have to give you some background.

At the end of last school year, the English Department at my school was short three teachers. One teacher retired, one found a much better job, and one is on long-term leave after a car accident.

Our enrollment for this school year is up, so we have a lot of students sitting in empty classrooms. CPS won't hire more teachers until it has determined that the numbers of enrolled students justifies it. So for the past six weeks, teachers have been covering classes without pay. And if no teacher volunteered (and I use the word "volunteered" sarcastically) to cover a class, there was no teacher in the classroom at all. Just a few kids sitting by themselves.

CPS conducted an attendance audit a couple of weeks ago -- meaning someone from downtown came to our school and helped count each student. This gave us the impression that we would be hiring more teachers.

But apparently Arne Duncan (CPS's Chief Educational Officer) is mad at my school. Someone anonymously emailed him to complain that there were not enough teachers, and that teachers were being forced to cover classes during their lunch periods without pay. The emailer then asked why Arne didn't care about the teachers or students at my school.

My principal was notified of the email, and she is now saying that we were given permission to hire more teachers, but as a result of this email, Arne is mad and has pulled those positions.

Which makes absolutely no sense. I think it is much safer to assume that she is mad and wants to know who sent the email. Since she doesn't know, she is going to take care of things her own way.

I got to work on Tuesday to find out that all of my classes have been dissolved. I was teaching freshmen reading, which is not required for graduation. It was just a supplemental class to help those students who needed extra work in reading and writing.

In each class on Tuesday, all day long, the programmer's assistant came into my classes and gave the kids their new schedules. Which resulted in their being crazier than ever. I kept asking the assistant when I would get my new schedule, but he said he didn't know.

At the end of the day, I went to the programmer and asked if I had a new schedule. He gave

As we can't hire more teachers, I have to be moved into classes that are required for graduation. I'm now teaching one section of freshmen English and four sections of junior English.

The freshmen class I now have has been covered by a Spanish teacher. Three of my junior classes were being covered by other teachers, but my 8th period class has never had a teacher. Or a sub. Just kids sitting by themselves for six weeks. I thought they would be excited to have a teacher, but they are not. Apparently they enjoyed having nothing to do for six weeks.

Yesterday I took my new 5th period class to the auditorium to have their school pictures taken. A kid came in and said that a teacher told him that she was his teacher and not me. I went to investigate and found out that that was no longer my class. They had a sub again.

After school I asked the programmer to please give me that class again, since they were actually happy to have a teacher and I could tell they were a good class. He said he fixed the mistake, and that class is now on my roster in the computer system we use for grades and attendance.

But none of the kids (any of my new students from any of the five classes) has been given a new schedule. So I'm assuming my students are in the other teacher's classroom (the teacher who is a sub).

Of course, today is Homecoming at my school, so it could just be that my entire class is in the hall getting ready for the parade. It's hard to say.

Doesn't that seem ridiculous?

There's the bell -- now we shall see if I have any students in my 6th period class. No one so far. I'm not holding my breath.

I forgot to mention one somewhat funny part of this narrative. When the programming assistant came into my classes to give the kids their new schedules, they all freaked out. So he told them that they had gotten so much smarter in the last five weeks that they no longer needed that extra reading class. That they were all smart now. Swear to God he told all my kids that. Which means I must be an amazing teacher to foment such improvement so quickly! Maybe I'll get a raise.