**I started to write this in February, but things got crazy and I just finished it today. Whoops.**
So, quite a bit has changed since I last posted on here. 1. I got a call from my principal the DAY BEFORE returning from Christmas break letting me know that I was being moved from 6th grade special education to 7th grade general education. I did NOT want to make this move. I was happy being with the 6th graders and had just gotten to really know most of them. 2. I had already applied to another school to be a 5th grade teacher. This was the school I did all my student teaching at and I loved that school. My principal knew that I had applied for the job, and this felt like a jab. So, I moved to 7th grade, which didn't seem all that bad….at first.
There were a couple of students in the 7th grade who immediately made my shit list. Student #1: Sheniquah. Remember I'm not using real names here people. I'm being super creative. Anyway, I was sure on several occasions that she was going to punch me in the face. The first time was when I asked her to sit down. I know. I'm such a bitch.
Me: Sheniquah, please have a seat so we can get started.
Sheniquah: What?! I DIDN'T EVEN DO ANYTHING!! YOU'S A RACIST!
Me: Uhhh just sit down, ok?
Sheniquah: *Eyes bulging out of head*....*Winding up right arm*....*Decides not to punch me in the face and sits down*
Me: *Mentally crapping my pants* Thank you, Sheniquah.....(for sparing my life, really, I appreciate it).
Student #2: The boys.
Yes, all the 7th grade boys. O.k. maybe not all of them, but most of them. They made my life a living hell. From chasing each other into class, kicking each other until one of them is bleeding all over the place, calling the girls fat to make them cry...the list goes on. But the thing that tops the list...was the nickname they decided to give me.
It was after school one day and a couple of the students wanted to stay after school and hang out with me while I started getting ready for the next day. My school provided dinner for all the kids at my school so, Alex, had his tray of lasagna and other creations on his Styrofoam tray and plopped himself on the floor to eat. Douglas accompanied Alex sans dinner tray and asked if he could sharpen all the pencils in my class for some candy. So, I agreed to let him sharpen the pencils. "What could go wrong?" I thought to myself. As Douglas sharpened the pencils, I suppose he got bored and decided to strike up a conversation.
Douglas: Miss, you know what all the boys call you, right?
Me: Do I want to know?
Douglas: Well....they call you Ms. P-Star.
Me: WHAT?!
Douglas: You know...like...P-O-R-N star..
Me: I get it....but WHY?
Douglas: You know...cause they're always staring at your *gestures to chest* parts.
Alex: Really? I thought we called her Ms. Gallifer...?
Me: Alex, that doesn't make any sense. Eat your lasagna.
Me: Actually, boys...I think it's time for you to go now. I'll see you tomorrow.
If only you could have seen the look of shock on my face when I learned my nickname. I turned tomato red and struggled between laughter and anger. Mostly laughter. But this only confirmed what I was suspicious of from the very beginning. The kids weren't paying attention to a damn thing I was saying in class. They were busy staring at my tits. Great. I told my old co-teacher about my nickname and it wasn't long before all the teachers had heard the story. It quickly became a running joke at my school and in the teachers lounge, I was forever known as Ms. P or Ms. P-star. What a fabulous way to create a name for myself as a new teacher.
So, quite a bit has changed since I last posted on here. 1. I got a call from my principal the DAY BEFORE returning from Christmas break letting me know that I was being moved from 6th grade special education to 7th grade general education. I did NOT want to make this move. I was happy being with the 6th graders and had just gotten to really know most of them. 2. I had already applied to another school to be a 5th grade teacher. This was the school I did all my student teaching at and I loved that school. My principal knew that I had applied for the job, and this felt like a jab. So, I moved to 7th grade, which didn't seem all that bad….at first.
There were a couple of students in the 7th grade who immediately made my shit list. Student #1: Sheniquah. Remember I'm not using real names here people. I'm being super creative. Anyway, I was sure on several occasions that she was going to punch me in the face. The first time was when I asked her to sit down. I know. I'm such a bitch.
Me: Sheniquah, please have a seat so we can get started.
Sheniquah: What?! I DIDN'T EVEN DO ANYTHING!! YOU'S A RACIST!
Me: Uhhh just sit down, ok?
Sheniquah: *Eyes bulging out of head*....*Winding up right arm*....*Decides not to punch me in the face and sits down*
Me: *Mentally crapping my pants* Thank you, Sheniquah.....(for sparing my life, really, I appreciate it).
Student #2: The boys.
Yes, all the 7th grade boys. O.k. maybe not all of them, but most of them. They made my life a living hell. From chasing each other into class, kicking each other until one of them is bleeding all over the place, calling the girls fat to make them cry...the list goes on. But the thing that tops the list...was the nickname they decided to give me.
It was after school one day and a couple of the students wanted to stay after school and hang out with me while I started getting ready for the next day. My school provided dinner for all the kids at my school so, Alex, had his tray of lasagna and other creations on his Styrofoam tray and plopped himself on the floor to eat. Douglas accompanied Alex sans dinner tray and asked if he could sharpen all the pencils in my class for some candy. So, I agreed to let him sharpen the pencils. "What could go wrong?" I thought to myself. As Douglas sharpened the pencils, I suppose he got bored and decided to strike up a conversation.
Douglas: Miss, you know what all the boys call you, right?
Me: Do I want to know?
Douglas: Well....they call you Ms. P-Star.
Me: WHAT?!
Douglas: You know...like...P-O-R-N star..
Me: I get it....but WHY?
Douglas: You know...cause they're always staring at your *gestures to chest* parts.
Alex: Really? I thought we called her Ms. Gallifer...?
Me: Alex, that doesn't make any sense. Eat your lasagna.
Me: Actually, boys...I think it's time for you to go now. I'll see you tomorrow.
If only you could have seen the look of shock on my face when I learned my nickname. I turned tomato red and struggled between laughter and anger. Mostly laughter. But this only confirmed what I was suspicious of from the very beginning. The kids weren't paying attention to a damn thing I was saying in class. They were busy staring at my tits. Great. I told my old co-teacher about my nickname and it wasn't long before all the teachers had heard the story. It quickly became a running joke at my school and in the teachers lounge, I was forever known as Ms. P or Ms. P-star. What a fabulous way to create a name for myself as a new teacher.