Day 2

Second day at the March went more smoothly, meaning we're up to the second-to-last level of Hell. I'm putting names to faces which helps with discipline--if kids know I know who they are, and I call them by name when they act a fool, they are less likely to act a fool. Except, of course, for those who don't care, which is a good percentage. They call me "honky ass" and "whitey" and "ghost." But those are a step up from yesterday's insults--these are almost affectionate by comparison. The teacher next door to me is in his third year at the March. He told me "kids ain't right on the East Side. They think different." That's what I heard at the Book from people who live East and work West.

Walking through the hall today a portly African American gentleman said "hey, I know you!" and I asked "do you know me from Booker T?" and he said "No, G--from Borders." His name is Rodney and I remembered him after he told me but I didn't recognize him at all. It has been more than a decade, after all. Smalltimore!

I used the laptop and LCD projector in all three classes. The tech guy came by and said "don't use those in class. They will destroy your stuff, or steal it, or destroy it trying to steal it." Apparently the entire computer lab on the 3rd floor was destroyed by vandals who couldn't figure out the locks on the machines, and decided to take revenge on the equipment. That's how I got my rowdy 7th grade class--they were supposed to have computer lab last period, but since there's no lab any more, they have me for "Reading," right after they have "Language Arts." Not good. I'm planning to turn the class into something else, like a special projects or business management class for little ones. Whatever I can do to keep them engaged and not hitting each other with my staplers and hole punches.

At any rate I saw kids looking in the window at my gear. There are smashed windows on other classes, and broken door locks--I'm a keep my laptop on me when i move, and my LCD locked in a cabinet. Of course if some of these youngins want my stuff they're just gonna wait for me in the parking lot.