Who Knew?

I've heard of the Million Man March, but this is something new. My friends and I were definitely not invited.

...and the winner is...

...me!

I won Teacher of the Year at my school. Get out!!

We were asked to nominate people a few weeks ago, and I didn't even bother to nominate anyone because the person I usually choose never makes it to the final ballot. Well, kiss my butt and call me HoolaHay (if you watch ANTM you'll know), my name ended up on the final ballot.

Cut to today when I hear one of my assistant principals start talking on the intercom. I hear her say she has a special announcement, and then I immediately stop listening to her and continue working with my students. It's sad because my students were eager to listen and I just kept going. So, all of the sudden, I hear my name followed by the words, Teacher of the Year, and I just about fell over.

Never in a million years would I have thought this could happen. It truly was just an honor to be nominated, but this is the best. I think this can hold me over till I retire.

R.I.P. Brad Renfro

It saddens me that Brad Renfro died today. It saddens me because he's dead and Britney Spears is still walking around - with a British accent nonetheless.

It's harsh. I know.

Encouraging the Delinquency of a Minor

OK, so today, at the end of the day I have duty at school. I escort students from the sidewalk to the cars that pull up to pick them up. I'm the one in the front of the line and I tell the parents when they can move as soon as a batch of students are safely in their cars. Even though it's not the safest spot, being between two lines of cars with semi-angry parents and their spawn, I chose it because it's the easiest spot. I don't have to deal with behavior problems from kids sitting on the sidewalk.

So, today, I'm doing my usual thing when a parent rolls down her window. The rolling down of the window can be two things: 1.) They're being friendly and want to say HI. *or* 2.) They want to complain about something or someone. Lucky for me, it was number 2.

Mom X lowered the window of her very expensive SUV. She was dressed rather chicly and not ghetto as most of my parents are at times. They tend to confuse ghetto with chic. Although you can have ghetto chic, but that's for another day. I took a guess that she was going to complain about another parent cutting in front of her while waiting in line, but alas I was incorrect. In the few minutes that it took her daughter to get from the sidewalk to her car, she complained to her mother that some teacher had "done her wrong."

MOM: See that lady with the black jacket?

ME: Yes

MOM: She told my baby that she wasn't here to deal with problems of fighting.

ME: Um, well, what to do you mean?

MOM: Some little girl was hitting my baby and she told my baby that she wasn't out here to deal with that kind of thing. (turning to her daughter and then violently pointing at her child with her angry index finger) I'm telling you if someone hits you I give you my permission to slap whoever it is upside their head.

ME: Um, m'am, Let's not do that, ok? Why don't we say that if someone should bother your little girl, that she should come look for me to see if I can help her instead. We don't want to encourage her to hit someone else.

MOM: I tell her not to fight anyone, but if someone hits her, I want her to slap them upside their head. (contradict much???)

ME: I can understand your feelings, but remember fighting is not allowed and if she does hit someone she'll be suspended for fighting.

MOM: (all calm now) OK, OK, (laughs), thank you very much.

ME: OK, try and have a good weekend. Bye.

Is it any wonder kids turn out the way they do? Instead of teaching them the right thing to do, they encourage and praise the wrong.