Teaching is always an interesting profession. When you work with teenagers, you never know what will happen from minute to minute. Their hormones are raging and I think that many people forget that they were young once. I haven’t forgotten but I do think that many gamins circa 2010 cross the line a bit too much. The things they say, I would never have said to a teacher. But who am I to talk? I flirted incessantly with my male teachers. Thank God they were stand-up guys because God only knows what could have happened if they weren’t.
My eleventh period class is always a handful. Who’s suspended. Who’s in ASP. Who’s in impending danger of the dreaded phone call from the office. It’s never-ending. Yesterday the boys in my class decided to make penis cut-outs. Many penis cut-outs. And of course, they had to make me aware of their artwork. Getting a rise out of their teachers is the thrill of their day. They live for it and pursue its pleasure to the ends of the earth – or end of the school day.
Obviously they don’t know who they’re dealing with. ME. I am a little (ok – maybe a lot) outside of the box. If I get flustered, it has to be something so inappropriate that even Ron Jeremy would blush. So when they brought me their proud works of art, I said, “Nice. Throw them out. Put your penises away and stop playing with them. Don’t you have enough time with them? Ridiculous.”
This incited a shrill of laughter and disbelief, and even though they were delighted by my unexpected response, they were a little sad that they weren’t able to push my buttons. When the bell rang I smiled at my triumphant win.
After work I had to go over to the high school for exam writing. There was a school bus in front of me loaded with our kids. When they realized that it was me, they started waving and calling my name. I waved back and smiled and all of a sudden the color form penis that made an appearance in my class earlier, was in the window hopping from place to place. I shook my head, gave them a thumbs-down and prayed that the bus would turn. Blast! My victory was short-lived. They got me again.
Thinking I was out of the woods today, I carried on with my normal routine – knowing I wouldn’t see that group of seventh graders. When period 7/8 rolled around my five eighth graders came in and sat down. We’re working on clothing vocabulary, so I had a Power Point prepared. As we were going through the vocab the conversation took a risqué turn when one of the boys asked me how to say thong. I obliged because they were also learning underclothes like panties, bra and boxers. What I didn’t bank on was the next question.
“Madame. How do you say boobie tassels?”
OMG! A little flustered, I half-laughed and screamed “INAPPROPRIATE!” What the hell was going on? Is it because it’s Spring and the hormones are dominant? I don’t know but I definitely had a good giggle after they left.
I can’t wait to see (or maybe I can) what will happen tomorrow. I DO love my job. At least I’ll never be bored and will always have great blogging material. You can’t make this stuff up!
© 2010 J. H-M. and CultureChoc2010.