Thursday, October 6, 2011

The Principal's Office

I never went to the principal's office for misconduct when I was a kid.

Well, at least not for acting up.

Once, I tried to get a teacher fired. She was really mean, always demeaning me and other student who had a hard time standing up in front of our peers and speaking. That was a drama class, by the way, yet the teacher loved laughing at our mistakes and dancing around as if she was the next A-List break out on the silver screen. She was a bad director, a bad teacher, and all-around a mean lady who liked to make kids feel little, unless of course she liked them.

The other time, I ratted on a teacher who let one of the service clubs engage in an offensive Reindeer run treasure hunt throughout the city. I ran away as fast as I could, told administration about it, and then I quit.

I guess I never went to the principals office as a kid because I was a good boy. I did what I was told, followed the rules, did my work, joined some clubs, made my name and fame in the school paper once in a while. An A student all the way, that was me.

As a teacher, though, I was called into the principal's office a number of times. I must have been a really bad boy.

Once a student ditched my detention. I called him into my class, asked for an explanation. I then told him to clean my room. The next day, the assistant principal asked for an explanation. I told him it was common at my previous school to have students clean up the classroom as a consequence for misconduct. No problem there. Here, the administrator said that I had made a mistake, a "common one that I had made before", he told me. He then told me to let administration handle discipline as much as possible.

Which really meant that they did not want to handle anything, hoping against hope that teachers like me would take the hint and just put up with students' rude behavior and egregious misconduct.

And what exactly had instigated this mini-interrogation? The kid's mother complained to another assistant principal. Mom and Dad not only could not be bothered to discipline their own kid, but were shocked, shocked! that I had taken drastic measures to teach the kid a lesson.

Of course, I ended up speaking to administrators following misunderstandings with other teachers, one of whom had kept a student out of class longer than expected. I thought that the administrators were responsible, but the other teacher felt that I was blaming him personally. And in typical adult fashion, he tattled to an administrator about my consdescning remarks rather than speaking to me about the issue.

I have dealt with APs when I have made personal comments about the system in place at schools which seemed dysfunctional. Because some elementary school teachers see fit to carp about teachers rather than stand up to them, the AP told me that I had caused quite a stir, and that I might want to do "something about it." How, exactly, am I supposed to deal with catty gossip from a bunch of frustrated teachers?

Once, I teaching a lesson on Spanish slang, giving casual and one more vulgar example. A staff member in the room chose to tattle on me rather than speak to me about the issue face to face. The Assistant Principal in question understood the misunderstanding (read cowardice) of the teaching assistant, but also cautioned me to be careful in the future.

Sometimes, parents would start something. Kids go home, tell Mom and Dad that mean teacher says and does silly things, and then parents want to give teacher a piece of their (misinformed) minds. I have spend hours at a time explaining to parents what I was trying to and what I said, contrary to the assertions of their truth-challenged sons and daughters. Good times, good times. . .

I must admit, because I did things my way instead of the "go along to get along" route, I ended up explaining myself to an administrator in what seemed like a never-ending, lose-lose stand-off.

Maybe if I had been a "good boy", like the obedient, compliant kid that I was in high school, doing what I was told, going with the flow, then all would have been well. No visits to the principal's office, no angry parents, but I sure would have been a hollow shell of myself, debating and doubting everything that I knew to be true and that needed to be done in the life of a young person.

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