I can’t understand how the teachers are so happy to work at this school. They’ll tell you how happy & lucky they feel about having the opportunity to teach at such a wonderful place every day. I think what they are doing is simply attempting to reinforce a vapid emotion that they think they should be feeling. But honestly, there is something eerily wrong there. These kids, they are the Stepford Children.
When I was doing my student teaching, it was out in the country. It was in a farm town. I don’t know why they placed me there. I had to move in with mom & dad for the duration, buy a cheap run down car, & still drive two hours to & from the school. I don’t know why they put a Chicago kid out in farm town Illinois to student teach. I ended up buying a cheap white pick-up in an effort to blend. But you know what, there was this one skinny little white kid there that wore Malcolm X t-shirts. His name was Ian & I really wanted to pull him aside & reaffirm his position in this world. I wanted to thank him, I wanted to give him a big hug & tell him, on no uncertain terms, that he reminded me of all the friends I made in college. He was going to be OK. Keep fighting the power, Ian, you’re one of the good guys & now that you are in college, you are probably getting Pussy Galore from all the girls that remind me of the friends I had in college.
Ian doesn’t exist at that high school. To tell you the truth, not even the Black kids there wear Malcolm X T-shirts. In fact, the Black kids there get along really well with the Latino kids. That just doesn’t happen. Even in my adult world I don’t invite my Latino friends to the parties my Black friends are going to. I just don’t like the tension. I’ll make the exception with Luis or Edmundo. But Edmundo is a Jewish Cubano & OK, Pierre might be safe, but he’s fucking French, he doesn’t understand that in Chicago, he’s supposed to hate the Latinos for gang reasons he was never around to experience.
It’s an odd environment. I wanted to pull ne of the students aside & explain that when your friend trips & falls & hurts himself, it’s your job to laugh & make fun of him before you help him up. You are both dudes, you aren’t supposed to ask him if he is alright unless he is obviously hurt, & then you can only do it after you belittle him for hurting himself.
I’m the security guard. I’m your sworn enemy. I’m paid to bust you for sneaking vodka into the school & smoking in the bathroom. I’m not your friend, you’re not supposed to tell me that I’m your favorite guard; you’re not supposed to call me “sir.” You’re supposed to hate me because I make it harder to do the shit that you are supposed to be doing in high school. You are supposed to be sneaking vodka into the school & smoking dope in the bathroom. What the fuck is wrong with you kids?
OK, I applaud you for being cool with the kids that are openly gay. I applaud you for not having obvious racial tensions. That’s super cool. But what the fuck? If throwing wet toilet paper at each other in the bathroom the best you can think of? Seriously?
When I was in high school we super glued all the doors shuts. But we didn’t have any security guards & cameras in the halls. Still, big difference & all, there are ways around that & obvious blind spots. Hold a revolution. The passwords on the computers are easy enough to hack & get your teacher’s addresses. When I was your age, we found someone’s address, shoveled his drive way until all the snow was against his garage, & then poured water over it. It took him two days to work his way through a three foot wall of ice. And you know what, we did that to someone we liked.
When Nathan egged my car I was pissed. Not because he egged my car, but because he threw one egg at it & didn’t put much thought behind it. It was an unimaginative & thoughtless prank. Vengeance was needed. We cooked an enormous breakfast, breakfasted his car, & then made sure the seagulls found it. OK, it might have backfired, I might have parked too close to him, my car & a number of others in the parking lot might have been covered with seagull shit too, but it was worth it.
The only pregnant girls in the school are teachers. And I haven’t seen a single kid that is obviously high in the school. There is no theft problem. There is no one selling alcohol & bootlegged porn out of empty lockers, I’d be broke if I attended that school. OK, I understand the lack of VHS porn, that’s what the interweb is for, but where are these kids getting the booze they probably aren’t consuming in vast quantities on the weekend & certainly aren’t at the school?
I haven’t seen a single Goth, even at the 90% Latino school I taught at there were Goths. When I was in school there were Visigoths & the Roman’s were frightened.
We had the skeleton key by the end of our freshmen year. Everyone knew someone had it, too many odd things were happening there for the skeleton key to not have fallen into the wrong hands.
It’s coming up on St. Patrick’s Day & I haven’t seen a single “I still hate Margaret Thather” T-shirt. It’s like everyone at that school grew up watching “Growing Pains,” & loving it. You’re supposed to hate that shit more than “Full House,” you’re not supposed to want to live it.
What’s worse is, the ex-cops & former military that I work with as a security guard can’t stand how lippy the kids are. They aren’t lippy at all. They are polite & well mannered. They make me sick to my stomach. They are too saccharine, too fucking sweet. I haven’t even heard someone say “fuck” in the halls yet.
I don’t understand what the teachers do there. I mean, I know they teach, but where’s the challenge? Where’s the work? Why would you want to be a teacher at a school where the kids obviously don’t need your help? Where’s the reward when you don’t have to bend over backwards to save the students that have gone too far down the wrong path? How can the history teachers stand not having students like Ian in their classroom to call them on their bull shit & challenge their authority?
I never understood school shootings before, but I do now. Someone is going to snap there & kill everyone. Oops. But that is what happens when you when you have that level of politeness & conformity. That’s why armies make everyone dress the same & have the same haircuts & work as a team all the time, that’s why the military forces conformity & irrational jingoism, that way when the shit does hit the fan, they’ll actually want to kill someone.