Lord of the Flies.

Today my first class was almost entirely canceled, due to a forty-five minute "education" the Student Disciplinary Department (aka the PE teachers) were giving the third graders. I didn't think they were going to just let yesterday's total chaos slide. Man, were the boys ever enthusiastic about class after that. English mwuh?

My other classes for the day were second graders. I'm starting to think this whole new wing thing is a strategic move. I found out today that I'm not the only one who would rather not encounter our current second grade class -- apparently they're rather infamous. Now they're shoved out in these cracker jack classrooms, nowhere near the teachers' offices or any other classrooms. It's as if the principal and teachers had a meeting and decided the best way to handle them was to put them as far away from everyone else as possible. As a result, the building is like Lord of the Fucking Flies. Students diving in and out of windows, running across the top of desks, taking their clothes off. No wonder that other new English teacher looks so terrified all the time.

Anyway, they've mostly been cake. I don't know what the hell is up. Today I even had a couple of students from last year that I had absolutely sworn there was no way of getting through to, and they were sitting in their seats, keeping their eyes on me, and happily shouting out their vocabulary. It helps that I've got a little boyfriend in that class, who also happens to be one of the class leaders. He doesn't put up with no one but no one disrespecting his English teacher, let me tell you. If I say, "Be quiet!" more than once, he's on them like white on rice. And they may think it's okay to ignore me, but it seems ignoring this handsome young man is simply not done.

There's one kid who's a bit off in that class. I'm not sure exactly how off, but I know that at the very least, he cannot read the Roman alphabet and has no interest in even pretending to try in class. Anyway, I managed to call out his number to read in front of the class. My little boyfriend, for whatever reason, decided it was acceptable to openly mock this kid. After I told the kid and his partner to sit down, I focused my eyes my boyfriend. Doing my very best to tap into my freakish occasionally psychic vibes, I called out, "Number 22!"

The look on his face was priceless. "Eoteokeh!? How!? Teacher, how!?"

"I'm psychic." I winked at him. "The rest of you remember that!"

They were thoroughly impressed.

It's funny, actually. I was thinking about this student just last night, because he reminds me a lot of somebody I knew a few years back when he was, himself, just sixteen years old. Wasn't sure what became of this kid -- he was really dear to me, but he got involved with some pretty serious stuff, and I was away at school. The last time I saw him he was lying through his teeth about how good he was being lately. Thought the kid was on the fast track to a coffin, for sure. But yesterday, I got news from home that, not only is he alive and well, he managed to finish school and is gainfully employed, doing very well. I can't wait to see him again when I get home, see what kind of man he's turned into.

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