Two "fights" in my last period class. Again, the "fights" at my new school involve a lot of drama, a lot of posing, a lot of taking off coats and talking smack while circling around, a lot of explaining what I'ma gonna do to you, a lot of putting up of dukes and pointing, a lot of "get your hands off me" to teachers and hall monitors who step in, with cries of "you're lucky they holding me back" while nobody is actually holding anyone back. The first "fight" last period was mostly shouting and drama.
The Coal Man told me afterwards: "Mr. G, when they's about to fight here, don't get between 'em. Let 'em bang each other and call they houses."
"Why?" I asked. "You want to see them fight?"
"No. But you might get hurt. I seen it happen here when teachers get hurt."
About 30 minutes later Sherry Baby knocked John Singer Sargent upside his face with a dusty chalk eraser for calling her a "b." He threw a stapler at her, I grabbed him by the arms and took him out into the hall.
Gradually I'm losing my reluctance to intervene physically at the new school. Back at the Book I did it all the time because I knew the kids. I'm starting to know the new ones now.