2- Meet Josh

I went to bed last night at 7:30. I fell asleep in my work clothes on the top of all my covers and didn’t wake up again until my alarm clock went off at 5am. Clearly, I was wiped out. I was in my classroom by 6:15 this morning, that’s the earliest that Mr. Love, the custodian, will allow us teachers into the school.
Yesterday, I felt good about teaching. It was hectic and busy, but the kids were sweet. They looked eager to learn and I felt excited to teach them. Today I got a new student who might make my life hell. His name is Josh and he is a challenging student. “Challenging” is the word that politically correct teachers use when talking about the bad kids. We put a positive spin on everything in the education profession.
Josh waltzed into my classroom about thirty minutes late. We were in the middle of practicing Calendar Math, when he showed up. He is a well kempt child; with perfectly ironed clothes to match his freshly cut brown hair. I greeted him in my sweet, welcoming teacher voice, “Hello there, what is your name?”
In response, Josh narrowed his green eyes and threw a crumpled sheet of paper at me. I picked up the paper and uncrumpled it to find that it contained all of his contact information. The school guidance counselor, Mr. Thorpe, had escorted Josh to my classroom and then motioned me out to the hall.
Barely into his late twenties, Mr. Thorpe looks like his job has destroyed him. As an ex-hipster, the guy went into counseling after several years of nagging from his parents and girlfriend to “get a real job.” He dresses in an ultra-geek style; today he was wearing a tweed jacket and thick rimmed glasses. The Converse All Star sneakers that peek out from the bottoms of his tailored pants are a dead giveaway that Mr. Thorpe has not yet given up on being cool.
“That’s Josh Greene. He was here last year, too. I’ll meet with you soon to review his situation.” Mr. Thorpe let out an exasperated sigh and lowered his voice, “I’m sorry, they give all the challenging students to first year teachers,” he said apologetically and then turned and scurried down the hall.
Sorry? Situation? Uh oh. I knew those words meant only two things- trouble and extra paperwork. I went back into my classroom just in time to see Josh, with his deceiving choir boy appearance, whack another boy in the back of the head with a pencil. The boy clutched his head in pain, and I saw Josh smile and mutter, “idiot.”
I gathered up all my teacher bravado and in the sternest voice I could muster, I told Josh that that type of behavior was unacceptable in our classroom. I began a little speech on respect and before I could finish the second sentence, Josh had interrupted.
“Ha! You can respect my butt. I don’t have to listen to you. I don’t have to listen to nobody.” With that he turned around and walked out the door.
Respect his butt?
Did that kid really just walk out of my classroom?
I felt shocked as I watch him strut down the hallway. I didn’t know what to think or do, and I did not want the rest of my class to see how useless I felt.
I ended up calling Mr. Thorpe, who called the Assistant Principal, and they did whatever it was that they did. I suspect they didn’t do much, because the kid was back in my classroom 5 minutes later.
I spent the remainder of the day teaching procedures to the rest of the students, while juggling a power struggle with Josh. He called me names. He called the other students names. He threw things. He slammed doors. He belched. He screamed obscenities. He did not do one ounce of classwork. I felt sorry for the other students, most of whom seemed to be used to Josh’s behavior. The kids tried to ignore Josh, but would still cast an occasional worried glance in his direction.
I left school today feeling sorry for myself. Now, I am exhausted and feel like crying. Today, I do not feel like being a teacher. I have a mountain of paperwork to complete, I still need to plan for tomorrow, and I feel an utter loss as to how I will deal with my new problem child.