Bomb Threats and Butt Scratches

I always miss the good stuff! And by good stuff, I mean Times when Crazy Shit Goes Down. Crazy shit makes for the best stories.

Yeah, hearing President say, "Miss J, you're my favorite teacher because you make us think deeper," is awesome. Hearing another student say, "Miss J, I wish I was in your class because you make your kids do the heavy lifting-- you don't just tell us what to think, and then make us practice it,"also rocks. Seeing them DESTROY their district benchmark test, with an overall average into the 80s? Loved celebrating their success. Having my kids come in when they know I'm not teaching because they just. need a dose. of therapy. Or Mama Bear Tough Love. They need to help me make a plan with them, because they know that just not eating is stupid, and not healthy. They need to learn how to communicate with their boyfriend, because just stomping off in a tantrum isn't working. They are furious because teachers punish and assume and don't listen, and they know that while I will sometimes AGREE with the teacher they're furious at, at least I will hear them out first. And then talk about how they can get their respect back. All of this is great and I love it all.

But, Toto, we are not in Phoenix anymore.

At my old school, you couldn't HELP but be right in the thick of it. But here? Where was I when the weird little white kid chased around two other kids with his pocketknife? Where was I when one of my favorite co-workers TACKLED a kid, who was frothing at the mouth, red with fury? Where was I when a kid was cuffed by the police and taken away after joking about planting a bomb in the student union? How come I haven't caught ANY kids making out like bandits in the bathrooms?

How come my lovable disaster, (let's call her Desiree), doesn't slather Vicks Vapor Rrub all over her face and neck, and then have serious trouble because it's making her eyes water, and she can't see anything..... in MY CLASS? How come she doesn't scoot on the floor like a dog with wormy butt problems .... IN MY CLASS? How come she doesn't rip off her shoe, throw her foot on the table, and start digging in her toenails.... in my class?

 I mean, I know what I'm asking is terrible. But, I could use a few more great stories before I say "See ya later, teaching!"