I've only been at the new school the equivalent of 3 full weeks plus 1 day; it seems like a much longer time. (holidays and professional developments and half-days mean it actually HAS been a longer time)
Hadn't seen Duracell for more than a week, and I was starting to get that sick City teacher's half-hope/half-dread: the hope that his sorry disruptive and sketchy ass was gone for good, the dread that something terrible had happened to him. But he was back today, and he gave me one of those complicated handshakes with a variety of grips and a warm back-slap.
"Where you been at Duracell? I missed you." He laughed and looked away.
"He locked up!" Armour All said. "He got busted on the Avenue running a package."
"Whyn'tcha call me Duracell? I'd a bailed you."
"Really Mr. G? You nice."
"Psych!" I said.
He proceeded to do the usual nothing in terms of classwork. He did throw two books, he tore down a poster, he drew on the wall in marker, and he wrestled Miss Thang to the floor and told her to engage in a lewd activity in class. Typical day today.
My first two classes were good. I threw out the B'more curriculum and the assigned texts. I bought multiple copies of the Bluford series, and I'm teaching out of these from now on. They're like Melrose Place set in an urban high school, and the kids dig them enough to repeatedly steal my copies, so I figure maybe they'll be engaged if I teach literary analysis skills using these instead of Chekov and Poe and all that other shit they think is boring. Today went swimmingly--we'll see if I can sustain the interest over an entire 140 page novel.