It’s annoying when people are, well…annoying. It’s not everyone, but lately it seems like there is a full moon every single day and The Crazy is just oozing out all over the place. It’s like Annoying is the word of the day. Like my life is sponsored by Annoying. Like this message is brought to you by ANNOYING.

To the neighbor lady who yelled at my dog tonight as I was walking her and she stopped to sniff her flowers and she screamed, “Get outta there!” to her but then refused to answer me and engage with me, a human, when I said in my best Al Pacino Lindsay Lohan Robert de Niro voice, “Are you talking to me? ARE YOU TALKING TO ME?” – May a thousand cats piss in your yard and then take a dump.

To my stomach who appears to want to be full-on lactose intolerant and won’t let me even eat a piece of cheese – May you just stop that. Right now. 

To the father who got mad at me when I was disciplining his son and he told me that he’d gladly come up to school and tell me how to “do that damn job of yours” – May your brain cells touch one another so you can “do that damn job of yours” of parenting.

To the media who fail to remember Journalism 101 and fact-check stories – May your stories come back to bite you in the ass because you get called on it.

To the people who butt in line even though they’re grown ups and do it to children who know unfair when they see it – May your debit card be declined the next time you do that.

To the Facebook friends who use capital letters for every update – May your days in class when grammar was taught come back to you so that you STOP YELLING EVERY SINGLE UPDATE.

To the chili with extra kidney beans I made for dinner – May you be doused in Beano the next time I make you.

I might argue that I have the best job in the world. I might also argue that I have a horrible job because it’s heart-wrenching on its worst days. There’s not always a great deal of appreciation for the work and it’s far more than what I normally discuss in general when talking about schools and education. The educationese we speak centers around best teaching practices, targeting students, systems of operations within the school, student modifications, assessment data, and a slew of other things that normally make my friends roll their eyes when I start talking about them. But what I know for sure is that when I speak passionately about students that those stories come to life. In the last decade I’ve met some characters in my career and some of those students would never know how much they have affected and changed me in the process.

Stories of my students could fill a book. These are some of my favorites, even if I’d had disappointing dealings with them:

Donnie is a bear of a student. Huge. He’s overweight by about 100 pounds. In the years I’ve known him he’s overturned a table in a classroom and punched an office wall. He’s a chronic class avoider and has the perfect plan for getting out of class. First, he refuses to bring materials for class which is the easiest way to avoid work. Then, he likes to use language that gets him kicked out of class. Finally, he’ll just resort to scary behavior that makes people want him to be far away so that they can actually teach. Several times I’ve just been so incredibly upset with him that I’ve said, “You’re exasperating, you know that? You make me work TOO hard sometimes. IT’S LIKE YOU WANT TO GIVE ME GRAY HAIR.” Donnie’s mom is the most sweet-voiced tiny woman I’ve ever met. When I talk to her on the phone I always have to remember that she’s my biggest ally in dealing with him, but I also am reminded that she’s lived a tough life on the streets as is evidenced by the visible tattoos I’ve read on her skin. She can calm him down in a magical way. Even now I can’t see what contribution he will make as a citizen of the world and it’s not for lack of trying on the part of many many teachers. He does a strange thing. Perhaps it’s mostly strange because of what I know about his brusque nature. He hugs me. He hugs me completely out of the blue. I never know what to make of it but I always walk away shaking my head and fighting off tears and the growth of new gray hairs.

Cole has Asperger’s syndrome. There is a special place in my heart for kids with Asperger’s and I think I was blessed with an extra measure of patience for talking to those kids. Cole does this thing that’s kind of funny: when he walks around school he stops occasionally to sniff a wall. It’s bizarre, but the nice thing is that he is protected by the other students. Once, when I was supervising a roomful of kids there was a new student in there who didn’t know Cole or his eccentricities. A girl, normally rough and tough, yelled at this new kid when he started walking around behind Cole mimicking Cole’s behavior. “Hey, don’t fuck with Cole!” There was really nothing else to do but pretend I didn’t hear her use bad language in front of me. Luckily, it was noisy enough that I could get away with that. Those were the protective thoughts I was having anyway, even if it was unprofessional of me to think them. But the mother in me wanted to reach out to that other kid and say the same thing. There’s just something about kids like Cole that bring out the best in people even if it doesn’t look like the prettiest, shiniest, kindest part of humanity.

Boyd can’t read. It’s as simple as that. I’ve only taught in middle or high schools my entire career with a few short stints as an intern in elementary schools so it’s with much trepidation that I blame his Kindergarten through fifth grade teachers for not teaching him to recognize letters and put together blends. Of course it’s not their fault. But there are at least six teachers who had the opportunity to do just that: teach him to read. There’s much research to support the theory that three bad teachers in a consecutive row can leave a child in educational ruins and Boyd appears to have lived that in practice. He comes without materials so teachers offer them to him. Then, he asks to go to the office or wonders if he shouldn’t be in the in-house suspension room because he can’t do the work. That part is simple. He can’t do it. He can’t even articulate well that the can’t. He grunts and giggles at the most inappropriate times. Laughter isn’t always called for, so I can only assume that Boyd is nervous and uncomfortable with being asked the most basic of questions. He can’t answer these questions: What do you want to do after you get out of school? What kind of job do you hope to have? Boyd believes he’ll just live at home and he’s not getting a sense of urgency from his family to do something. But, by God, the state tests will judge us based on whether or not he can read. His sense of apathy is astounding. Most days I want to take him home with me and other times I want to pull out my own hair when I learn that the expectations for him set by whomever (I dare not blame this entirely on his family. I know better than that.) have been low for a long time. Goals mean nothing to him. My words are empty when he hears them.

Stacy can’t understand why I stay on her case. If you asked her, she would say that I have nothing better to do than pick on her. She’s relatively quiet, keeps to herself and her small group of friends, and doesn’t feel like working any harder than she currently is. When she passes me in the hallway she has different reactions to me. Sometimes, it’s disgust. Others, it’s a playful nature. Truthfully, Stacy can’t figure out why I care so much. I’m not one to put students on blast, but I’ve been known to raise my voice enough to warrant a WARNING! WARNING! THE CONTENTS IN THIS HEAD MAY EXPLODE AT ANY TIME. PLEASE STAND BACK. She found this out the hard way and once we got settled and our voices reached a level where we could converse, all was well. I have that girl in the palm of my hand now. I can’t believe I got it that way. Normally, I pour on way more sugar than is required.

Dawn has been a gem to watch grow. Not only does she try hard and do well in her classes, she’s in extracurriculars like band and cheerleading and student government. Each time I come in contact with her, it’s nice. Just nice. She’s got the warm greetings down to a science. Her cheery smile can light up the Christmas tree at Rockefeller Center. A few times a semester she comes to check on her class rank (even though she knows by now, after my many talks with her, that it only changes at the end of each semester) and pours over her grades with me. “Oh, I knew I should have studied harder for that test! I could have gotten a higher percentage.” I don’t have to do any prodding with Dawn to get her to be a better student. But giving her attention feels good. I won’t lie – there’s an incredibly fulfilling sense of giving Dawn just the tiniest bit of my time. She makes it last until the next time. It’s what I thought all my relationships would be like with students. Dawn is a model student for anyone, but I feel lucky to get to reach out to her in a small way. I remember, when I’m with her, why I spent four years in undergrad.

In an effort to save time in the writing process I considered using this writing space to figure some things out with the help of the commenters (that’s you, in case you didn’t know) (even though, yes, you’re smarter than I am and of course you knew that!) In this quest, I realized that more than anything I have more questions than answers:

Why are my teachers working harder than the students? Why does our AYP look so bleak and pathetic? When will we see some turnaround from all our efforts?

Why do students insist on getting more and more piercing knowing that it will be refused in our school building? When will our school board give up that ghost and just let them do it? Why don’t I care that much about facial piercings when I know that it will be difficult for some of my students to get a job with all that stuff in their face?

How is it that trying to fit in an apple a day is so hard? Why have I carried the same apple to work three days in a row and not eaten it?

How can I expect my students and my own children to be respectful when they see grown folks on television shouting at the president, taking microphones away from young singers to spout off about who should have won an award, and fans who vandalize the home of sports players? Am I the only parent trying to instill some respect and thought into my children?

Does anyone make coffee-flavored bed sheets so that I stop rushing to the kitchen in the morning to brew a cuppa? Should I start wearing coffee-colored clothing since I spill it on me so very much?

Why are women so HORRID to one another and go for the jugular when they’re upset with another woman? Will I ever encounter another female who doesn’t turn into a psychotic maniac when she’s pissed off about something? Will I ever turn into that woman and backstab other women as much as they seem to come after me?

Are people sending their children to public schools more because they can no longer afford private tuition? Have our numbers ever been this high at the beginning of a school year?

Do you floss your teeth on a regular basis or just when you know you’re visiting the dentist soon?

Am I ever going to get some respite from this financial crap and stop being punished for trying to make more money to support my shoe habit family?

Will Tyra Banks ever quit trying to pretend like she’s sympathetic to Black women and their hair issues? 

Are my efforts to be more green (taking my own grocery bags, walking whenever I am able, turning off the lights when I’m not using them, recycling) really making much of a difference?

What is the best wrinkle cream to use around the eye area? Why can’t I afford the brand I’ve been using anymore? 

Where are my favorite pair of green and yellow underwear? Huh? Where?

Does any of this make sense?

What in the world have I been doing that keeps me from tending to my poor, neglected blog? Hunting for sharks with a paper clip and a piece of string a la MacGuyver, of course!

You know me better than that. This isn’t a confession post. In fact, I’m thinking of this as more of a purging of my brain since time has limited me (see how I go shifting the blame to something as arbitrary as time?) to doing some writing. When I get stuck in that rut I remember that I’m just supposed to write. Just WRITE. And not think about how hot this laptop is getting on my legs. Or if I’ve taken my vitamins today.

I’ve not taken them. This will be a random brain swamp clearing.

We have many issues in school with cell phones but one that I’m beginning to hate, and I mean HATE WITH A BURNING PASSION, is when kids get in trouble at school, text their parent, and then I have an angry mother or father in my office yelling because their son or daughter has been “wronged” and I don’t even know what the story is. This lack of taking responsibility on the part of our students (the collective “our” that belongs to society) is maddening. Kids aren’t dealing with the issues, they’re just calling mom or dad to get them out of trouble. Double UGH with a side of WTH. I mean, really.

Maybe I should number the rest of these. Some people seem to like the order and neatness of that.

2. One of my students is reading a book called “Dread Locks: Dark Fusion #1″ and she asked that I read it with her so we can talk about it. How can someone say no to that? They can’t. There. I’ll answer the question for you. They just simply can’t. So, I’m reading some adolescent fiction right now that I picked up from our school library. For adult reading, I’m reading “Julie and Julia” by Julie Powell. To feel like a real geek who is reading a book based on a blog I’m reading it on my Kindle. It’s really kind of awesome to do that even though I like the feel of paper in my hands now and then.

3. Candles. Does anyone use them anymore? Are they good to give as gifts? Personally, I think they’re kind of crappy to give but that doesn’t stop me from having them even though I know they’re horrible to burn inside a home because of the black marks they can leave on the walls. I’m asking for a friend who always gives them as gifts and I give her crap about it so any help is appreciated especially if you side with me on this.

4. The People of Walmart website. I am unashamedly checking it out nearly every day and i’m in awe of what people choose to leave their homes in knowing they might be photographed by an unsuspecting cell phone camera.

5. I’ve lost several pounds. It’s not because I’m trying too hard, either. Isn’t that annoying? Don’t you want to smack me now? But honestly, it’s stress and forgetting to eat lunch now that I’m back at work. That’s ok, though. The Cafeteria French Fries have had their time living on my thighs and that’s quite enough of that, thank you very much!

6. Music. Lately I’ve been listening to a lot of “Angry Johnny” by Poe as well as the thump-thump music of Caspar and the sweet, sweet sounds of Diane Birch. This appears to be summing up my moods which, now that I’ve listed them, are bi-polar at best.

7. I haven’t made a quiche in over 8 months. The last time I baked one of them after doing it from scratch it was horrid and everything in my life appeared to be going wrong at the time. My mother said (dramatically, I might add), “I can taste your disappointment IN LIFE in this quiche.” I believe I am scarred from this experience.

8. My BlogHer Beauty Hacks post is up about how the young teen girls are dressing these days and I am so happy about it. In fact, I compliment the girls I see in school on it every day so they get positive reinforcement.

9. Last year I had a difficult time with a student and she truly gave me a hard time. It was over-the-top dramatic and I laughed it off especially when I found out that she really hated me once she told a co-worker that her dad has a crush on me. Now, I don’t deal with that stuff. Translation: I ignore it. I’m not about to date a parent of one of my students. EVER. It’s just weird to me. This girl spent her year narrowing her eyes at me and always acting out in front of me and basically being a real pill. It got to the point where I had my intern do all her discipline because she acted out way worse when I was involved. This week she gave me a handwritten letter telling me that I’m her inspiration and apologizing for her past behavior and this:

You’re encouragement and enthusiasm and attitude has changed me and made me see that I am much more of a person I thought I was and I want to thank you for everything you have done for me. I gladly thank you because now I have someone in my life I can look up to and someday follow the footsteps of to be something in life so thanks!

10. Well, damn. That was a great way to end my week when I think no one is benefiting from what I do.

While she is here for her birthday, Maddie was asked to pick the winner of the laptop from Acer and she came up with Mamacita’s number! Congratulations, Mamacita! Contact me with your address information at the e-mail over there on the left sidebar to get your prize. Thanks to everyone who entered! It was fun to read about all the back to school rituals people have.

In other Back-To-School news, BlogHer has published a letter I wrote from an educator’s point of view to parents of my students.

Finally, I used a Neti Pot. That’s not really interesting news, but it was a moment I’ll not soon forget. Unfortunately, it came amidst the birthday festivities last night and I’m hoping all the kids will instead remember Red Velvet cupcakes and the Mel Brooks film festival we had last night.