What she wore: purple, short-sleeve tee; denim skirt with a light wash; purple plaid thongs with a drille heel.
If You’ve Never Been Here Before! Welcome!
Here’s the short scoop on me and my space. I’m a teacher from Arkansas and a military spouse. My husband is currently deployed, but I expect him back in a little over a month. I have a slight shopping addiction and am thus expected to go out and earn some money to feed my habit. I love my work and it provides me with endless blogging material. I use my blog to put my two cents out there and maybe make people laugh or think. Hope you enjoy your visit.
You may have heard that I’m being featured on MSN’s What’s Your Story this week. If you think my space is great, or you’re related to me then please take a minute and vote for The Barnyard. I’d really like to not be last.
Now, for the usual blog:
Today was on of those teaching days that just makes you want to scream. I wrote up a student for entering the bathroom without permission. I should back up. . .
Each morning I am the bathroom monitor for the boy’s bathroom. This is a thankless job that involves being entirely too close to urinals and breaking up fights. I keep the number of people allowed in a bathroom down to five to help prevent vandalism, fighting, etc.
Today a student limboed under my arm and brushed his hair in the bathroom. I told him, "I’m going to write you-up on a long form (this is the more severe of my two options)" He looked at me, shrugged his shoulders, and said, "OK." I figured, no big deal, wrote the form, and turned it in to my assistant principal. Turns out, this kid has been acting up and she decided to suspend him from school for three days.
I get called into the principal’s office about an hour later. The student in question is sitting there and she asks me to repeat my story. I do so. She tells the student he will be suspended for three days. He asks to use the phone and then says to his mother, "some white lady is trying to get me suspended and I need you to come down here and take care of it."
Uh, excuse me? Some "white-lady?" Do I not have a name? Or a profession?
I could maybe stand for being called "some teacher" or "some lady" and probably even "some bitch," but for some reason I am just straight-up pissed by being called a white lady. I’m not allowed to call him "some black kid," and it angers me that his parents think this attitude is acceptable.
If you want people to look beyond your race than please look beyond mine. What does it have to do with anything? I gave the kid a choice, warned him, and he made the decision. Suddendly, he throws my race into things to muddy the waters. I have CHOSEN to work in a school that is 85% African American. Please don’t make me apologize for being white–just like you, I didn’t choose my color. Look beyond it and see who I really am.
OK, enough rant.
I feel I must add a little to this story. Many people commented and I don’t want there to be any confusion. I DID NOT comment on being called "a white lady." I allowed the assistant principal to handle that comment and she did so with the utmost respect. She is African-American and she explained to both the student and his mother that I should be referred to by my name and not by my race. I am a professional and never mentioned the matter. My input was simply to relay the story and emphasize the CHOICE the student had made. I save ranting and raving for the bloggosphere.