Whimper Woof...tough day for this Sheep Dog.
A lot of teachers called in sick today, the number of teachers missing from the Annex (all 9th graders) made me consider that they were having a sick out but apparently it was all a coincidence.
What made it tough? several things:
I had several difficult batches of sheep; though most of the sheep did their work with personal flair (fine with me) a few sheep in each flock felt that they did not have to do any of the work their shepherd left or felt that I was a threat of some sort.
First period went overtime by 20 minutes although we were expecting it to be shortened by 15+ minutes. There was a very long Black History Month assembly. Yes, February was Black History Month. Give us a break we had snow days. It was an educational and amusing show with some knockout performances but it was horribly loud, ear hurting loud, want to cover your ears to protect them but you don't think you can do that without offending the participants loud. The show was also choppy with too long breaks between acts and tech problems.
Due to the class timing, long assembly, and large number of teachers absent I had only a 25 minute lunch break the whole day (no planning period). This meant that I had no time for a bathroom break between 7:40 and 11:10 and during that time I also had to eat and get the office to print out formal sheep lists so I could take attendance.
One of my students was absent. Seems she ran off with her 21 year old boyfriend. They want to get married. Yes, she is in 9th grade. Yes, she looooves him. Yes, it is illegal. Her family had no idea she was dating him. Their plan is to hide until her parents give permission for a marriage (I'm pretty sure that by state law she must be at least 15). Through all the drama of the telling of the story, precipitated by my calling her name on the roll, brought this story to my mind http://www.nbc4.com/news/11123261/detail.html Read it, I'll wait. Makes me despondant. I just cannot seem to express all of what I am feeling but some of it is anger; anger that a woman who is 27 has a 16 and 17 year old and obviously something went wrong and there wasn't anyone more adult through the years (or maybe just lately) making sure that this young mother and her not that much older husband were parenting in a humane way. And sadness, sadness at what must have happened to both these parents that they thought this was ok and sadness at what these children have now experienced. And sadness at what it means to all our teenagers. But just a little hope and joy that a teen somewhere was upset and worried and took her concerns to the authorities and some good came of it.
And that, dear readers, was not the worst. During my last class (after the lunch and potty break) I had two sheep come in acting drunk. I don't know if they were really drunk or just acting as they thought drunk people should act but they were stumbling, giggling, running into doors, singing, and hanging their heads and torsos out the window to get some cool air. If they had been drinking in school then they needed help and if they were acting then they needed discipline. One sheep braved a comment about drinking. I woofed the class into place and while little groups of sheep surrounded each student to try to keep them safe and deflect authority notice, I called security. The guard came and escorted my two dishevelled sheep away. The two black sheep took no notice of me or the guard and seemed perplexed at what they were being asked to do. Most of the other sheep were irate that I called security but several looked relieved. I will just say that calming a flock after that sort of incident is difficult even if there was a nice amount of work to set them on. After school I spent 25 minutes filling out the correct referral forms documenting the afternoon.
Then, to top it off, a sheep tore a newspaper into small pieces and it ended up all around his desk on the floor. He denied all responsibility for the mess though he admitted to the tearing. He wouldn't clean it up, changed his story several times, was rude, called me a bitch, refused to show his ID, and refused to tell me his name. I called security again and the guard came and dealt with him. Though somehow he had an ID in plain view when she arrived, she did not accept his protestations that I had made the whole thing up and was lying; she escorted him away.
I hate calling security; I feel like a failure. Maybe I should be a Mother Hen or a Goose Girl or a Pirate on the Wide Accountant Sea. Maybe I'm not cut out for the Sheep Dog life.
and maybe a little I'm scared of sending my own gentle sheep into this flock
Knitting pictures I need to take and share: warm shawl, pink and blue slippers, most of a sock
Tomorrow I am visiting a NEW yarn store. I have high hopes and they have a SitnKnit night on Wednesdays so I want to try it then as well.