A Shrewdness of Apes

An Okie teacher banished to the Midwest. "Education is not the filling a bucket but the lighting of a fire."-- William Butler Yeats

Friday, September 30, 2005

And how did YOUR day go, dear?

So try this one on for size:
6:45 am--I arrive at school at the crack of dawn, notice mucho police presence in front, but head to my room and check my email, to find that there has been a bomb threat phoned in. Teachers are encouraged to look for anything suspicious.

7:45 am-- announcement comes over the intercom for teachers to check their email. We are assured that they don't think the threat is serious, but just in case, we're going to have a fire drill to evacuate the building at 9:50.

8:30 am-- sub arrives so I can go to an IEP meeting while my class at the time takes a test. Some kid comes to the door from in-school suspension and wants me to pass an envelope to another kid so that that kid 2 can buy kid 1 a ticket to homecoming. I demur, and wonder why this kid is roaming the halls if he is in in-school suspension.

8:35-9:20 am-- go to IEP meeting.

9:22 am: ask activities secretary if a kid can buy another kid's homecoming tickets for them. No, is the answer.

9:27 am: return to classroom. Explain that they are going to have a formal fire drill with the police and fire departments coming, so urge kids (including 3 pregnant students) to go to the restroom now, since this may take some time. Remember, they are supposed to be taking a test, so already I am envisioning that the distractions have now reached a critical point.

9:50 am: even though they've gotten a heads' up, kids all jump when fire alarm goes off. We all troop outside, where...

9:50- 10:45 am: we move all the kids to an isolated parking lot and then allegedly supervise them, while news station helicopters wheel overhead "riding shotgun in the sky" as Joni Mitchell would put it. I break up two near fights, one amongst a huge group of kids who deliberately jump up and down to hide the fact that punches are being thrown as they cheer on the mayhem. My friend Moose (all 5 feet nothing of her) and I separate kids in the midst of this maelstrom, and suddenly look at each other as we simultaneously realize that the last place we should be is in the middle of this, but it turns out okay and the kids separate although they snicker at the two ridiculous women who have waded in to their scrum, while all nearby male teachers have studiously looked the other way until the shooting was over.

10:47 am-- go back into the school (they found a suspicious package and destroyed it while we were outside). Attempt to finish test. Ha!

10:50-11:15 am-- keep kids in class while we receive 4 email messages telling us how to get lunch in for everyone. Tests seem insignificant now, while kids barrage me with questions about why we were out there for an hour... Oh, and by the way, grades are still due this afternoon by the end of school.

And the rest of the day was all bollixed up. It started to storm-- nothing too big, but definitely loud and wet. Thank goodness that didn't happen while we were outside with a million kids to herd.

3:00 pm--I went to pick up my kids from school to find out that Elder Daughter has band practice, so I pick up the others to avoid aftercare charges and realize that I must go home and then come back in 45 minutes because I am too zoned to go to a store.

3:30 pm-- get home. Cell phone has run out of power, so I plug it into the wall. Two seconds later, the power goes out for the fourth time in six weeks. I mean, downtown Baghdad has power more often that I do, while my neighbors across the street haven't lost it once. Whiiiine! So now I've also got NO phone.

4:15 pm-- go to get eldest daughter, then stop by cell phone store to get a car charger so I can call the $#@@@!!*% electric company to report that my @#@! power is out. The people there actually fast charge my phone in like 10 minutes. I did not know they could do this, and am deeply grateful.

4:20 pm-- call idiotic electric company, where no real human is brave enough to pick up the phone, so am told by a computer that 1000 customers have no power, and that they anticipate it will take until 10 pm to get it going again. The only bright spot about this is that I actually am not going to lose that much food, since I had to throw out over $300 worth last week when I lost power for a day and a half.

6:00 pm-- hubby comes home with food. Weight Watchers be damned! There's a canelloni in my sights!

6:15 pm-- power comes back on.

8:00 pm-- collapse from exhaustion. Drink bottle of wine with hubby. Children play quietly and peacefully in their rooms for once because they know what's good for them.

10:00 pm-- after seeing no mention of bomb threat on evening news-- how do the PR people pull this off every time something bad happens to our district? There must be a pact with Satan involved-- go to sleep, where I dream about trees knocking down powerlines and oversleeping for work.



At 10/1/05, 6:31 PM, Blogger Fred said...

I'm pretty surprised they let anyone on the campus at all. Standard procedure here is to evacuate, check the entire campus, then give the "all clear."

What if a bomb went off at 7:30? I'm perplexed it was handled this way.

At 10/1/05, 11:35 PM, Blogger "Ms. Cornelius" said...

They didn't view the threat as credible-- that's what we were told, anyway. The theory is, don't encourage kids to call in bomb threats so that they can get a free day off of school.

Yes. Scary if you dwell on it.

At 10/2/05, 10:01 PM, Blogger Polski3 said...

Just another day in paradise, eh.

Hope you had a good weekend!


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