My Destination

This is where I am going to be spending the next 4 days - right on the beach in a king size bed (we don't need that much room because we always cuddle up (he is the only man I can sleep with while touching)) that I can lie in and see the ocean. We also have reservations to a gourmet restaurant that specializes in food for the health conscious and serve desert in shot glasses. When we come back, we are taking my kids to Atlanta to a Braves game.

Beach Photos 2

Beach Photos

This has been the best week! Lance has his boys for the month of July, and while it has been challenging keeping up with his two small kids and my three big ones, it has been the most fun I have had in quite a while. This week, Lance and I had to give the graduation test to the seniors who failed it and so we had to be at the school from 8-11 everyday. Hope watched the boys for us, and outside of a poopie diaper she could not bring herself to change, she did a great job and everyone got along very well. I thought Trey would be impatient and jealous of all the attention two little ones require, but he was excellent and played with them and seemed to really like them. Zane, the oldest, is quite difficult to deal with sometimes. He has Aspberger's - a mild form of Autism - and can get fixated on something and freak out, but overall he is an excellent kid. Eli is three and the cutest little angel. Lance and I worked so well together and kept the kids entertained while entertaining each other. I have never laughed so much at silly little things. We went to the park at the Y one day and Zane loves to race, so I told him we would race while his dad worked out. The race was supposed to be to a slide, but Zane went the wrong way, so I won the race. He was furious and said, "Girls can't win! You should let me win! Girls can't win!" Immediately I said, "Yes, girls can win and I just won." We had to have a long talk about girl power. When we got home I felt bad so I told him I would race him to my front door. Well we take off and I guess I caught my foot on the edge of the sidewalk and feel down. Lance was standing behind me and, as I laid on my back, he came and checked on me. I fel like a big idiot. I was not hurt, but I was mortified. After I began to laugh, he felt it was OK to join in. He said it was a good thing I laughed because he did not think he could hold it in much longer. I now have a new nickname - Stumblebunny. We also took them to the library. That was a treat! Zane was so excited to be in a room full of books, and with excitement comes running and yelling. The library guy was not pleased. He kept calling the boys "Sweeties" and suggesting they use their "inside voices." He was to uptight to be a children's librarian and we had a good time enjoying his discomfort. Which leads me to a list of plans we have for future fun:

(1) Take the boys back to the library and sit in the back of the children's section and read while the boys run wild until the guy is forced to come and get us to do something about the children. Shouldn't take long . . .
(2) Get t-shirts with our pictures on the front and on the back have "Cookiepuss loves Hotboy (our most frequently used nicknames) and wear them to social occasions so we can make our friends even sicker of us than they already are.
(3) We are both going to join Lance's friends in a fantasy football league. We are throwing around some names - Lance says maybe he could be Jocks and Jill's and I could be Jill's and Jocks, but I want mine to be "Baum's Bitches' Ballers" - either way we will make the others sick.
(4) We have also talked about getting married, but decided that we would revisit the issue on July 16, 2008. We both agreed that we would both do it now, but it would be best to wait a little longer. Lance bought me a 2008 calender and circled July 16th. Even though it feels like we have been together for a very long time, we've only been talking since the first week of May and never really got serious until near the end of May. But we both know that nothing before has felt like this. Lance loves to say that everything before us has been preparation for what we have together. I agree, but I wish I could have so many years back. Anyway, below are the pictures from the perfect beach day of last week.

New Favorite

Most Like an Arch This Marriage

Most like an arch—an entrance which upholds
and shores the stone-crush up the air like lace.
Mass made idea, and idea held in place.
A lock in time. Inside half-heaven unfolds.

Most like an arch—two weaknesses that lean
into a strength. Two fallings become firm.
Two joined abeyances become a term
naming the fact that teaches fact to mean.

Not quite that? Not much less. World as it is,
what’s strong and separate falters. All I do
at piling stone on stone apart from you
is roofless around nothing. Till we kiss

I am no more than upright and unset.
It is by falling in and in we make
the all-bearing point, for one another’s sake,
in faultless failing, raised by our own weight.

John Ciardi

This is my new favorite poem! I love the idea and the word order - "All I do / at piling stone on stone apart from you / is roofless around nothing." One of my favorite lines.

I should have some great beach pictures for you guys soon. Today may have been the perfect day. We got up early and went to the beach with all the kids - Lance's and mine - to fly kites. Well, there was little wind and I forgot the string, so I went on an expedition to get string and ended up buying Noodles and shovels. Then we came home and showered, dressed and went to Wal-Mart (our idea of fun - on Sunday, the freaks come out and we laugh at them). Then we came home and cooked dinner and talked and layed on the couch snuggling until Lance had to go home. It was a nice end to a nice weekend. Also, no one has posted their response to my survey. Let's go ladies! I know you all have an opinion on this!

A Little Survey

Lance and I have been having a discussion about past sexual encounters and we disagree about how many past partners are too many and what is a good number of partners for someone to have had. I would imagine that age plays a role in this question, but how many is too many? I tend to think that if you need to use your toes when adding up partners, you may have had too many. Sometimes I am embarrassed that I have not had more, but sometimes I am embarrassed at the ones I have had. I went to a party with a wild girl when I was 19 and I had just broke up with my boyfriend of 4 years. As we played pool in the family room, I had a few too many drinks (likely story) and ended up making out with a guy whose last name was Hanrahan. My drunk friend kept shouting, "You can't make out with him - he's a hammerhead shark!" Absolutely ridiculous I know, but we were young and it was late. It got awkward when Steve reached under my skirt and felt my pantyhose (give me a break, it was the 80's) and asked if I was wearing pantyhose. I was very embarrassed and I left while he went to get a rubber. I remember looking in my rear-view mirror and seeing him come out of the house with his jeans unzipped and looking puzzled. I have had so many near-misses like that - incidences that could have led me to bringing in a calculator to add up my partners - but something in the back of my mind kept me from being an extraordinarily promiscuous girl. Maybe it wasn't my mind, but my heart that kept me from making so many mistakes - and there is no doubt they would have been mistakes - maybe the guy I was meant to love would have looked at me differently if I had said my number was 35 or 40. I don't know, but that is the point, you never know. I could probably cut my number in half and be happier for it - in fact, I could probably cut my number to 2 and be where I need to be, but really, often the morons are adorable. So, what do you think, what is a good number and at what number do you think you should lie about your sexual conquests?

My Bathing Suit Choice

OK, so to minimize my embarrassment at appearing in a bathing suit in front of Lance, here is what I chose. Tell me what you think

It's Been a Long Time

I stay so busy that I rarely have time to post. When I am on the computer, I am looking up lesson plans. This week, I have been reading about Julius Caesar and getting ready to do Shakespeare. I am going to do the play like a mob story. The kids love the violence and believe they were the first to discover The Sopranos. Little do they know. I am very excited about beginning drama because I have have spent the past week on teaching 150 10th graders how to write a formal research paper with parenthetical citations and a work cited page. Whew! That is all I can say.

I have decided that I am going to ask if I can teach senior English next year. They told me I have a choice of what I want to teach and I think I would love to do British lit. I taught 10th and 11th grade this year, so I believe it would be nice to get some experience in every grade. I am growing to love teaching more every day. I was out sick for a couple of days this week, and the kids were all hugs today. They claimed to miss me, and I believe them - just because it makes me feel good.

I am collaborating with my sexy social studies teacher across the hall to do a Roman newspaper at the end of reading the play. It should be fun. He is going to be a guest speaker in my class and give the kids a little history lesson on the Roman government.

Do any of you have good ideas for me and Julius? If you are still checking the blog, let me know. I promise to do better in the future!

I love and miss you guys. There is not a day that goes by that I do not think of you and hope you are safe and happy!

Falling in Love Again . . .

My second semester of school has been so unlike the first semester that I am now trult enjoying teaching. I made some changes, and as Frost writes, "That has made all the difference . . ." I separated my troublemakers and let them know that I would not give in to their pleas to "change it back." I stand at the front and make them move to their correct seat if they try and pull a fast one on me - which they often do. I also have a notebook requirement for class now. They have to have a three-ring binder with sections for grammar, notes / handouts, tests and journal entries. I do a notebook check every two weeks and assign grades according to organization and completeness. I no longer have papers left on desks or the floor. These two small changes have been just what was needed to make my classroom more effcient and keep me from going crazy.

Last Friday, my 10th graders got their PSAT scores back. Some of them did fairly well on these tests and I was so excited by how excited they were. Before the bell rang, they stood around my desk asking me questions about their scores and telling me what the report said hey needed to improve on. They also asked me about college and what they needed to do to prepare for college. I always talk about how great college is and how necessary it will be in the future and it seems like this is the first time they have even considered college as an alternative. Most of the kids tell me that they hate to read, but instead of accepting this, I handed out book report assignments at the beginning of the semester. But I gave them alternatives to writing a traditional book report, and Ilet them choose the book they wanted to read. One of the girls that claims she hates to read, came into class the day after choosing her book and said, "Ms. Taylor! I love this book! I am almost finished with it and I cannot wait to write a book report so you will see how good this book is!" She had three weeks to complete the assignment and she did it in three days. I can see why teachers return year after year to a very stressful job. Even my 7th period class that used to make me pull my hair out, is paying attention and really interacting with one another. I am sure there will be bad days to follow, but I am falling in love with my job . . . finally.

Prozac Nation . . . Well, sort of . . .

Maybe in the past being on anti-depressants may have been an embaressing piece of information, but not anymore. After hearing numerous friends tout the effectiveness of their anti-depressant favor of the month, I decided toas k my doctor for something to help me feel more like myself. When I asked, I still did so with a wince. I squinted y eyes and lifted my shoulders because I still felt a tinge of apprehension and weakness because I needed something to make me feel human again. I can still remember my dad and mom discussing the fact that my Aunt MAry Alice needed "something" to get through the day. They talked about in whispered tones I still remember - even though it was almost 30 years ago. Never mind that my uncle Frank, Mary Alice's husband, had died and left her to raise four children -all of them teenager's- by herself. I guess my family considered her weak for needed a pill to feel better. I guess carry that shame - and feeling of weakness - for needing something for myself.

However, after two weeks on Lexapro, I could care less if I am weak. I feel really good again. I am optimistic and I feel like the old me. I can't wait to get up everyday and I have more energy than ever. It's too bad that Aunt Mary Alice did not feel she could shout from the rafters that she needed a little help to get through life. After her kids graduated from high school, my aunt took a gun and shot herself one morning. It's too bad that she did not feel accepted for asking for a little bit of help.

Ah, Christmas . . .

To say that it is wonderful to be out of school for two weeks would be an understatement. I am ecstatic! I am so far behind on Christmas shopping that I have plenty to keep me busy for the next week - along with getting ready for the second semester of school. I am starting over with a new syllabus and new rules and new ideas of how to handle things. I am also on Lexapro so maybe I wil be a little more mellow and be able to sleep at night. I am also starting the obligatory diet on January 1st (a Monday, imagine that!), so I will feel healthier and well rested - hopefully.

The last day of school made me happy to be a teacher. I got several cards and secret santa-grams from my students. I also received hugs and "I love you's" from even the most troublesome of my students. Along with a party at the end of the day with some of the other teachers - where several shots of tequilia were involved, I felt I was a part of a growing community. A community brought together by both a love for kids and a sense of astonishment at how some of the kids make it in life. It is always good to know that you are not out there alone.

On a lighter note, I have a new and unwanted nickname at school. Instead of Ms. Taylor, the kids call me "Ms. Tater-Tot." I told them I was offended because I pictured a small round brown object, but they insist it is a term of endearment: "I call my favorite uncle Tater instead of Todd," they say. I will hate it when the kids I despise say it to me.

I am also putting together some ideas for a book about "What they don't tell you in your education classes." So many first year teachers have no idea what to expect their first year and since I kept a journal, I may like to put it together with some funny stories. Nothing like Logan's self-published book Kirsten.

I Love The Onion

Child In Corner To Exact Revenge As Soon As He Gets Out

SEATTLE—Six-year-old Daniel Barriault says he has learned his lesson, but what those who wronged him don't realize is that their lesson has only just begun.

Happy Thanksgiving from Us to You!

REALLY waving the white flag

As a first year teacher, I have no idea how my school compares with other schools. Because I went to, what Kirsten likes to call, "a weird God school," I tgought all public schools are like Mcintosh's. Well, I have been informed that it is not. Today I found out that my mentor teacher, an 8 year veteran from Bradwell Institute, is turning in her resignation tomorrow. She is the fifth teacher leaving because they claim the school is an "impossible teaching environment." Really, I understand. These kids are the most unmotivated, unfocused kids I could have ever dreamed up. After spending three days last week talkng about figuartive language, the kids told me today, "We don't know what that is." It is maddening, but I can deal with that. The problem is the administration. I have written one kid up five, yes 5, times, and he has not served one day in ISS. But, one of my best students says a curse word in class and spends three days in ISS. I see why they are leaving. That is madness.

Waving the White Flag

I used to be happy to see Thanksgiving coming because of stuffing, oh, and family, but now, all I can see is a three day break from school. Because we finished our unit on word building a few days before the beginning of an extended break, I did not want to start the novel because I knew they would forget whatever we did before the time off. Instead, I returned to poetry after one of my "advanced" students told me he did not know what figuative language was. I am embarrassed to say that I told him, in frustration, that, if that is true, "you do not need to be in an advanced class." I did not use all sonnets, but instead I gave the kids fun ballads to analyze. I asked them to find sensory words, sound devices, figuartive language and identify theme and then give me evidence from the poem to support their conclusion.

The last two quesions on the organizer was to identify theme and support their conclusion. After my ENTIRE second period class turned in the organizer without answering the last two questions, I decided to go over the steps that will help you identify theme (something we have done in the past). Still, after doing that, every class turned in their organizers with the last two questions blank. Are they lazy or just incompetent? They want the answers in black and white and preferably given to them. One of the science teachers told me that she had kids who were lost if they had to turn the page to find an answer. It is very frustrating to pour your heart and soul into lesson plans and have kids who just do not care.

I have been going over propaganda techniques with my 11th graders, who, by the way, I have grown to really like, and I had them write a news article using propaganda. The results were hilarious. They were nowhere close to using propaganda, but the reponses brought me lots and lots of giggles. Here is an example of one:

"Charmin always be complaining about other toilet papers saying how they better than everybody else. The commercials always be having Charmin going up against some other brand and saying which one absorbs more water. Most of the time it be Charmin."

Never mind that it had no use of propaganda - or the fact that it was not a news article - the last line is priceless.

Rickey did create a news article, but it had no propaganda, just hilarity:

"There was a crash at the Brunswick airport this afternoon and two hundred passengers died in a fiery crash. It was not a national disaster though because all of the passengers were from McIntosh County. The rescue squad thought it was better to let the passengers die than to risk the lives of any of the decent citizens of Glynn county trying to save those passengers."

Ms. Milsapps, the Spanish teacher, tried to make me feel better after today - a day that consisted of two fights in my class. she said tht she had the kids write, in Spanish, about their favorite teacher. She said, "A lot of kids wrote about you." That was really nice to hear after such a tough day.

In other news, I am completely in love with the social studies teacher across the hall. He is somewhat chubby, but he plays the guitar and throws desk around when kids misbehave, and comes in the door to rescue me when I have problems. More on this later.

The Fair

After a nice day out of school yesterday, I took the kids to the fair last night. I am always amazed to find that when I walk into the fairgrounds, I feel 12 again. I told the kids how much I use to love to walk through the entrance of the fair and look at the little exhibits they have set up at the entance. Things have changed a lot since I was little. Brunswick is growing at an astounding rate and you can tell by the number of booths when you walk in the fair (probably not a scientific indicator of growth, but a nice comparison for me). When I was little, the Kiwannas had a booth and the bank always gave out pencils; there was always the "Smokey the Bear" booth and a booth for the tractor dealer. Now, there were booths that sold vacuum cleaners and at least five bank booths - I got a pencil from them all - and another booth that sold puppies. The kids were excited to go through the fair opening, just like me when I was a kid.

As soon as we got into the actual fair, there was very little change. The smell from the animals was overwhelming, but familiar. I use to spend quite a bit of time in the animal exhibits because there was a lways a pony there. It is amazing that a field of grass can turn into such a delightful place. I saw people there last night that I use to go to the fair with. Girls that I would walk around with and follow the boys that looked like they would go and smoke cigarettes behind the rides. I remember my mom saying "There are some bad people at the fair," and thinking how crazy she was. Last night, while me and some of my friends sat on benches waiting for our kids to ride the rides, one of them said, "My God! There are some trashy people at the fair!"
I could not believe how old I felt. I am so depressed today because of that stupid fair. I realize how quickly time passes. How soon my kids will be out on their own and I will be alone. This post makes little sense, but I wanted to get it out.

Things are ok, but not great. I am still diving.

Stand Up and Cheer!

Trey recently won a spelling competition at school so he is going on to face the other kids in Glynn County for a county wide spelling bee. He was so proud and we have already been working on his list of words. I suggested we watch Akeelah and the Bee. I heard it was good and I thought it may inspire Trey. However, I was the one who was inspired. I loved this story and the ideas behind it. Akeelah's coach made her read a quote and tell him what it meant to her. I liked the quote so much that I wanted to share it with you. I am going to find a way to post it on my wall at school. I recommend you put this one on your Netflix list.


Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.
Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.
It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us.
We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous,
talented and fabulous.
Actually, who are you not to be?

You are a child of God.
Your playing small doesn't serve the world.
There's nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other
people won't feel insecure around you.

We were born to make manifest the glory of
God that is within us.
It's not just in some of us -- it's in everyone.

And as we let our own light shine,
we unconsciously give other people
permission to do the same.
As we are liberated from our own fear,
our presence automatically liberates others

-Marianne Williamson

Some of the Reason's School Sucks

After a relatively calm week, school ended on a sour note Friday. Next week is Homecoming and we are preparing for a big week. Here is a sampling of the fun scheduled for Mcintosh County Academy:
Monday: Pajama Day (There is no way I am wearing pajamas to school. I may don slippers, but that is it)
Tuesday: Halloween: I am going to be Bob Marley, or Barbara Marley
Wednesday: Dress to impress (I guess you dress up)
Thursday: I can't remember
Friday: Spirit Day

Well, our apathetic kids were rarin' to go and decorate so the school was in chaos. My day began with the assistant principal handing me a stack full of write-up's from the previous day. I had been out at training and my sub tried to take over my class. Well, my kids revolted and told her that she "was not their teacher," and "Ms. Taylor told them what to do so they did not need her help."
This sub is notoriously pushy. The assistant principal handed me the write-up's and said "take care of them."
I had just finished "The Monkey's Paw" and so I had the kids rewrite the ending of the story and describe how the son who comes back from the dead looked. They loved it! and approached it enthusiastically, so I let two boys who had done an exceptional job, go to the gym when there was ten minutes left in class. A few minutes after the boys left, the asst. principal came into my room and said, from the door, "Ms. Taylor, do not let your kids out of the room again." She turned and left and I felt scolded and embarrassed in front of my kids.

At lunch, the other English teacher came into my room furious. he said that Ms. Hunter, the asst. principal had come into the media center and asked him what he was doing in the library? She then told him too many kids were in the lab and he had to leave. Once again, she did this in front of his kids and embarrassed him.

Later in the day, with my prisoners-in-training seventh period class, we were working in collaborative pairs, which they want us to do, rewriting the ending of the story. These kids are always loud, but Friday they were loud but doing the work, when Ms. Hunter walks in and tells me, "Ms. Taylor, this class is too loud. Be quiet!" Once again, I was furious, but just said "OK."
Shortly after this, she comes back in and says, "All the other classes are quiet, but this class and I don't like it!" I apologized and told my kids to be quiet, but inside I was ready to cry. each time she came in, I was mediating the class and helping them do their work, but I feel it is totally inappropriate of them to reprimand the teachers in front of their students. I believe they have lost control of the school and may be trying to regain it, but at the expense of alienating the teachers. Many of the other teachers who have taught elsewhere say they have never seen a school so poorly run. Three veteran teachers have already left and more are threatening to go. I guess I do not know enough to know how bad it is there.

I do know, however, that I have written up one boy four times, me and others, and he has not spent one day in ISS. I am very discouraged today, but I am going to start the History of the English Language on Tuesday and I am going to have them try and read a little Chaucer aloud. Should be fun. I may have to bring Kirsten in as a guest reader, or maybe I could ring her up on Google chat and have her give an over the phone reading.

I am sad and lonely for all of you and can't wait for Thanksgiving break so I can come see you!

Nice, Simple Fun

HowManyOfMe.com

There are: 31 people with my name in the U.S.A. How many have your name?

Getting There

I have to say that I am beginning to enjoy teaching. I have tried to let the class be a little more organic and let the conversation flow naturally. This has worked out pretty well for me. It all strarted with Jack London's story "To Build a Fire." The story is about a man who makes a trip in Alaska when it is 75 below zero. He travels down the Yukon trail alone, well, he has a dog with him, and meets a terrible fate. The story is told from the 3rd person omniscient point of view and we know what is going on in the mind of the man and the dog. It is clear that London does not think much of the man because he writes, "The man lacked imagination. He knew about the things of life, but not their signifigance." In my teachers edition it asked the question, "Why might the man's lack of imagination be a flaw?" My kids said, "yeah, why is that a flaw?" Well, I had to think about it, and I came to the conclusion that a lack of imagination about what was to come in life, and what was significant in life could be disasterous. I told my kids story after story about people who had failed because they could not imagine the horror of their choices. How people lioved miserable lives because they did not realize what was really significant in life. I tried to convince them that although this story was written in 1908, it still spoke to us today. That is the neauty of lieterature - that no matter how many years we have been on this earth, we are still the basically the same. As I taught them this lesson, I remembered that in the middle of all the headaches of teaching, I can make an impact somewhere by teaching my beloved literature. And I do love it - maybe now more than ever. I read Flannery O'Connor and her story "Revelation" and realize how important it is to expose these kids to a world outside of Darien, Ga. I have grown to absolutely love some of them, and want to help those that have not grown to love yet.

I went to the football game Friday and met the mom of one of my very quiet kids. She said, "Jonathon talks about your class all the time. He said he just loves you and the stuff you teach."
I was shocked. He never says anything in class, and I often wonder what he is thinking about while he sits in the back so quietly. Now I know, and it feels wonderful.
Maybe I can make it back next year.

Entitlement

After reading Kirsten's post about entitlement, I thought I would address it on my blog. I have so much to say about the subject - in fact, I talk about it everyday with my fellow discouraged teachers. The kids I teach are so low performing, that, I believe, teachers in the past have found it easier just to tell them answers rather than try and teach them how to do an assignment on their own. After reading "Everyday use" by Alice Walker, I told my students that we were going to create a character quilt. This quilt would involve reading half of the story and then drawing either symbols of the mom, Maggie and Dee or a picture of how we feel they are described in the story. They were excited because it involved color crayons and glitter, but when I asked them to think outside of the box and imagine these characters as symbols, they acted like I was crazy. I explained the directions several times, over and over they asked me to tell them what to do, and over and over I refused. "Use your imagination," I said. Apparently they have none - not one ounce of it - except for my one special ed kid Leroy. Leroy drew the mother as a brick wall and had nails laying at the bottom of the wall because he said she was "hard as nails." "Perfect," I screamed, "Leroy gets it!" All the while I tool in poster after poster of stick figures who had silly smiles on their faces. "Where do you get this idea from?" I asked, "The family is not happy." Oh well - at least Leroy gets it.
I often have kids who want clarification and then when I give it to them, they shrug their shoulders and turn away. It is not their fault. They have not been asked to do anything hard. I work constantly to find something to give them hope that they can do the work, but they have no intrinsic motivation. That is something I cannot teach, but i share my thoughts and enthusiasm with them, and I tell them how much it matters to me that they succeed, but lately, I find myself not giving a rat's ass if they learn anything. At the first sign of a sniffle, I call in sick. Me, the girl who missed one class in five years of school. To say I hate what I do right now is an understatement. I hate myself for giving up and for expecting myself to be a seasoned veteran after 12 - is it only 12? - weeks of teaching.
Today, during my planning period, the other 11Th grade teacher burst into my room and said, "Please, go to my class! I can't stand them anymore!" Of course I went in to find a class of angry students shouting, "She doesn't teach us anything! Who are you? We want you to teach us!"
"No," I said, "Really you don't. Ms. Abby is a great teacher."
They gave me the assignment and as I looked it over, I said, "Even if you don't know how to do it, you should show Ms. Abby some empathy and respect and be kind to her."
Dull eyes.
Then, Ms. Abby burst into the room and yelled, "Ms. Taylor, do not be nice to them! They are horrible, mean, vicious children!"
Stunned at her loss of control, I took her outside and tried to calm her down. She had taken the criticism personally. I fear being that person that makes a spectacle of herself to get the attention of my class. I believe that class is lost to her now. They will continue to pull her chain now that they know she views them as "horrible and vicious."
Oh well! Another week in McIntrash.