A Spring Break From All Of This?

Spring Break has arrived. Before I head out for the week, I wanted to reflect on what it is exactly that I’m taking a break from.

For starters, it’s the little things like this direct message I received via Twitter regarding our upcoming school talent show:

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For the record, the jury is still out on this one.

For the most part, at this point in the year, I am really enjoying my students. They are so goofy, getting tired of being naughty, and are just as eager as I am to end the school year on a high note.

That being said, I have a handful of gems who just aren’t quite there yet. And it’s those gems, my friends, that have me more than willing to make the most of our time apart.

I have one little delight, I’ll call him Frank, who is a text-book case of “negative attention is better than no attention.” All of his teachers know this about him and unfortunately the students do as well. Not that he needs much provocation, but they are always looking for opportunities to push his buttons.

About a week ago, I’m standing at my desk, taking attendance and clarifying some make-up work for a student when I catch a whiff of trouble brewing across the room. A student, David, is turned around in his desk, craning his neck “pushing buttons” of the Frank, who is sitting behind him. I instantly know what he’s doing; he’s trying to get an outburst from his classmate. I tell David that he needs to turn around and stop talking. He ignores me and I begin to make my way towards him repeating my instructions. I’m too late. Buttons have been pushed and by now another party is involved. Francie. And she’s pissed.

Francie: yells “I’m going to punch you in your fucking face!”

Me: “Enough! Francie, you need to go to Miss C’s office right now.”

Francie: As she gets up and makes her way to the door “Frank started it!”

Me: “I have no doubt that he did. Head down to the office, calm down, and tell Miss C what happened. I’ll call her and let her know you’re on your way.”

As soon as I she’s out the door, I call the office to let her know that a student is on the way and that I’ll be sending an email. I pull up my email and call Frank up to my desk. He eagerly bounds his way over with a huge grin on his face. Now keep in mind that Frank is a little pip-squeak. Seriously. He’s probably 4’6 and weights 62 lbs. He might really be a ten-year-old. I don’t know. I’ve never seen his birth certificate.

Frank is now at my desk, a little too excited to see where I’m going to send him.

Me: “Okay, Frank. I need you to tell me what happened back there.”

Frank: “David asked me if I liked Francie. He asked me if we were going out. I told him, ‘No, I don’t date fucking fat-asses’.”

Me: “That was really rude and completely inappropriate.”

Frank: “I know, but have you seen her? She is a fat-ass. I don’t like fat girls, I only like skinny ones.”

Me: “Frank, I need you to stop talking now and sit over at that table until in administrator comes to get you.”

Frank: “Okay, Miss Lewis. Do you know who’s coming for me?”

Me: “Nope. Have a seat and I need you to sit quietly.”

He quietly sits down at the table and makes a “zipping his mouth closed” gesture. At this point I am trying so hard not to laugh because the whole situation is completely ridiculous. I hit “send” and look up just in time to see Frank turn around to address the entire class. He spreads his arms out wide and says:

Frank: “Fat ass, am I right? You all know what I’m talking about.”

As I gently guide Frank to his feet to escort him to an empty classroom nearby, he puts his hands up in surrender.

Frank: “I know. I know, Miss Lewis. I went too far.”


Good Luck parents.