Tuesday, September 4, 2012

God Bless You, Ms. Beatrice Toussaint


One of my favorite sites to sub for was -- the Sheriff Leadership Academy in Lynwood.

The County Ladies Jail was next door, and Los Angeles County District Attorney's office stationed a probation department upstairs.

Right next door to the classroom, Compton Superior court had a satellite chambers of certain offenses. On all side of me, corrections were protecting me, and the probation staff upstairs let me know that I could for help if I needed it. One time, the supervisor probation officer told me that she had to send down staff to break up a fight.

On some occasions, I would cover for the full-time teacher, Mr. David Newman. But the power behind the thrones was Ms. B, or “Queen Bee” as the students would call her. With all the cops and sheriffs surrounding me, I assumed that I would be just fine, but I was all the more sure that I was A-OK because Ms. B. was on site, and she brooked no nonsense whatsoever.

Now, The Sheriff’s Leadership Academy in Lynwood caters to a distinct clientele of student, individuals who were not able to get by in their respective schools. One young lady looked like she was taunted for her weight. Another kid was a Pastor’s Kid. Another kid was in the Academy because his sister got run over, and since the family sued the school district, the brother had to enroll in another school.

I was not expecting the best for myself that day. I had no idea what I was going to run into when I went to the alternative ed schools, like SLA. Most CDS (Community Day Schools) refuse to hold students accountable, and the substitute had no authority accept to play nice and play along, since the substitute could not do anything.

SLA was different, and I soon got to enjoy it. The first day that I covered the class, the students hesitated to be compliant. Two of the students were love-dovey all over each other. They had been petting each other for the greater part of the day, and the full-time teacher had done nothing about it. What a mess the day was turning out to be for me. One of the kids even cursed at me. When I told the two of them to stay after class, they gave me the run-around just like many students have done in previous classes, so ingrained are they with the notion that they do not have to listen to a sub. At that point in my career, which in many ways was a low-ebb following a string of frustrating failures and a crushing lack of support, I did not know what else to do but submit a referral at the end of the day.

When Ms. B. found out, she just lost her cool.

"He cursed at you! I wish you had told me! You will NOT put up with disrespect!"

I could not believe what I was hearing -- I was being scolded by a secretary, but not because I had failed to file paperwork on time, not because I had asked one too many questions, but because I was not tough enough.

This was all music to my ears. For the first time in a long time, I was working with a lady who demanded action, who commanded respect, and who expected the substitute teachers who worked with her to do the same.

This turn of events was 180 degrees from what I had been used to in other schools, where the kids are very much in charge, and with abandon they charge at and walk all over substitute teachers.

Ms. B then related to me the long, drawn out, drama of the two "lovebirds." Those two had been acting up and getting to cozy with each other for too long, and the full-time teacher had not been dealing with it. The secretary was starting to push the teacher to get tough with them, then there was me, showed up in time to do the dirty work that he was not willing to do. The young man getting to good with the girl had moved three times in the last two months. The transience of this population of students was one of many barriers which prevent teachers from doing the best they can by the students under their charge. I should have read the hand-writing on the wall and never came back. But I chose to stick with the mess for another day.

That evening, I had no idea what to do, what to expect. I was at a point where I had to rest and trust that God would take care of everything for me. I resolved that I would confront the secretary just as pointedly as she had done with me.

Early in the morning, I walked in to her office, and I told her to suspend the two students on the spot.

"You needed to tell me that yesterday. Now what am I supposed to tell the parents?"

Ms. B had told me enough, though. I did not feel that she would have any problems getting those kids removed for the day. That morning, one of the students cursed me out, and right away I dropped him in Ms. B. office for suspension, which she took care of on the spot. The two lovebirds walked in a few minutes later, and with that I told them to talk to me right away. They tried to blow me off once again, and the guy kicked a chair at me. That was enough to justify a suspension.

Three students were cleared out in about ten minutes. Then Ms. B talked down to the entire class.

"Things were doing just fine until yesterday, and they better get better, and quick. If we have to suspend five students, or if we suspend everyone until there are only five students left, then that's the way it will have to be."

She reminded me a lot of the character "Calpurnia" from To Kill a Mockingbird. I recall one scene in the movie, when Scout made a fuss at the dinner table when a guest poured molasses over all of his food. "Ew, Daddy, look! He's pouring molasses over everything!" Calpurnia would not tolerate such insolence: "Scout, come in the kitchen a minute." The next part was the comeuppance that every snide kid needs:

"Scout, that’s' company out there, and he gets to eat any way he wants to. And if he wants to eat the table-cloth, then you let him, you here me?!" Then with a slap on Scout's fanny, Calpurnia sent the young lady back out to the table.

Ms. B. was old-school like that, and that kind of heavy handed discipline is just what we need in our schools once again, especially since we are dealing more and more with absentee or immature parents who refuse to raise their kids.

That day was a 180 for me, and many of the students were just thrilled that one teachers -- with a lot of help from the secretary -- was willing to take on the unruly students in the class.

At the end of the day, Ms. B. prepared me a bag of left-over foods. As I was leaving the building for the day, she called out after me: ""Thank You, King Bee!"

Ms. B made me feel right royal that day!

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