Thursday, May 3, 2012

Balls of Steel

I have been waiting all year long for a blog-worthy moment.

Of course I enjoy my new assignment, but teaching at the honors level, while much less stressful, is not nearly as conducive to story-telling. The kids are bright, and witty, but they are also very earnest and much less ridiculous than my previous clientele. Thus, the dormancy of this blog.

Today, though, my dreams came true, and I learned a lot about myself in the process. Ok, that's not really true, but I did figure out why the kids unconsciously call me "sir" and "Mr."  several times a week.

As usual, I must let the dialogue speak for itself, so I'll just set the scene for you. Twice a semester we have to administer district writing assessments, which usually consist of really mundane and under-stimulating prompts. The kids have two class periods to work on them, but since about half of them (justifiably) fall into a coma somewhere between drafting and editing, they have to come in after school to publish the final version of their essays. This is why I had a dozen squirrely freshmen in my room after school. When I say squirrely, I mean it's May, it's a Thursday, their lunchtime blood sugar surge is at it's peak, QT is calling to them, and there's a lot of temptation in the halls. SQUIRRELY.

After I dispersed materials, dealt with whining, and focused them enough to feel comfortable turning my eyes from them, I sat down at my desk to grade AP essays. And that's when I overhead the following:

Dick: "Am I the only dude in here?"
Spot: "Yes."
Dick: "Aw, man, that's WHACK."
Filterless Jane: "Well, ACTUALLY, Ms. Goldie's in here too, so you're not the only guy."
Dick: (offended on my behalf) "Ms. Goldie's not a she?"
Filterless Jane: "Well, she's like a hot guy with balls of steel."
Dick (and Eavesdroppers): "Awww, no YOU DIDN'T! That's messed up! That's WHACK! BURN!"
Filterless Jane: "WHAT?! It's TRUE!"
Dick: "You just said Ms. G has BALLS!"
Filterless Jane: "Not LITERALLY! (tossing her hair, obviously annoyed by Dick's misinterpretation of her analysis) I just mean that she's not afraid of anything, and she can kick your ASS!"

                    DISCLAIMER: I have NEVER kicked a kid's ass. EVER. Not with

Dick: (comtemplating) "Yeaaaahhhh...Yeah. You're right! ...........(contemplation)..............(more contemplation)........................................I think my sister has balls of aluminum."

Balls. Of. Aluminum. Genius.