Second Thoughts

Tuesday, May 30, 1995

A few pages (following the exit of some of my Nines who had been trying to do catch-up work in the Computer lab after school) before I have to run...

Lisa's grandfather was put in the hospital this weekend--diabetic seizure. The doctor's prognosis (which I didn't want to know in the first place, since my uncle Tomio's gastrically cancerous "six months" stretched to over four years) has shrunk over the course of the long Memorial Day weekend, from six to three months. Lisa's mother and sister, who are still out here, are preparing for the worst, calling in the family to pay final respects. I don't agree with this, since I think the old guy has more time than this (and no, it's not denial, OR my uncle's cancer... it's more of a hunch), but I'm keeping my mouth shut. Lisa doesn't need anymore stress.

This week is going to be the week from hell. Today is Lisa's final Student Government end-o-year banquet. I also need to pick up the lawn mower from the fix-it shop. Tomorrow is Academic Detention (which I'll probably cancel at the last minute), Lisa's dentist appointment (which I think she has already cancelled), and an impromptu trip down to L.A. and Grandpa. Thursday, more after-school computer time for Nines as well as an ASTD networking dinner in the evening. Friday, the end of the week, thank God, brings the collection of the Electronic Portfolios, Jane's going-away party, and possibly even a movie with Aimee and (her husband) John, and Nicole and Hector Espinoza (her boyfriend). A busy week (not even counting the usual work [vocab, CultLit, DOL, R&J], and the end of year crunch [HMD projects came in today, final writing projects loom large]).

[A QUICK NOTE ON ACADEMIC DETENTIONS: As I said above, I'll probably cancel this week's session. On top of wanting to head down to L.A., I need the break. Some of them could probably use it, too. Of course, the note I received from counsellor Mindy Rose doesn't exactly make me want to slug it out with my Nines over A.D.'s anyway: "Can we have amnesty from now on? You're wearing out my hand (signing referrals, I guess). We need to do senior grad(uation) checks this (sic) next 2 weeks! Thanks, M." At first, I thought it was a joke--what with the cramp stuff--but I think she's serious. So I can't expect any more support from the front office than what I've been receiving thus far (which ain't much). C'est la vie.]

Last week, before I learned what my schedule for next year is to be (4H, a 4, two 12's, and a 1... four preps... the most I've ever had in my nine years of teaching), I had been talking with Cindy Daniels about my exit from the Land of the Nines. She bemoaned my escape, and questioned aloud the future of the "program." I really didn't care, not so long as there was to be no continuity within the program. She knew what I meant. When she and I had Nines during the fall, we both knew that we were It. We were the last line of defense against the barbarians at the gate. And we were consistent in our defense. If a student bailed from my class, he went to hers. If he bailed from hers, he came to mine. And we ran parallel programs. Consistent. Tight.

Spring, on the other hand, was an entirely different matter. Daniels had been commandeered by the ESL department. Now the Nines were split between Brad the heir-apparent to the ASB throne (vacated by an Old Timer who had been my teacher, lo, these many years before), a first-year, emergency-credentialed, girl (and I don't mean any sort of sexist, derogatory slam by that... it's just that she looks all of sixteen... with the classroom management and discipline skills that go with it [vis-a vis smokebombs fired off in her class]... who will probably go down in the quickly forgotten annals of our campus more for her fling with the aforementioned heir-apparent than for any long-term teaching assignment here), and myself. No continuity. No program. No unified front. Thus, my "fuck-it-I'm-outta-here" attitude.

Last week, when Daniels asked me if I would reconsider, I told her I would not unless I was guaranteed who my colleagues would be and that it would be a united front. Daniels and I laughed at that one. We both knew what the chances of that happening were. Nil.

Of course, Friday, when I learned my schedule, I also learned that June Tsuko was taking over some Nines. June is a great teacher (and I've known this since I was a senior at C.H.S., when she was a substitute in one of my classes--usually taught PeeVee Mentor Two--and I gave her an egotistically hard time [wearing my letterman jacket and wrap-around shades, my foot on my desk, reading Shakespeare, I refused to take off my glasses, and when she made some remark about me being a jock, the BMOC, I ever-so-politely went off on her, informing her of my Valedictorian status and my acceptance into UCLA... I was [or is that AM?] a cocky little so-and-so]... we've had laughs over this since... thank God). So, anyway, she's taking over the program. This could be interesting.

Today, when she and I met over the English department copying machine in the computer lab, as I waited for my stunning attendance of TWO (count 'em, two) English Nines to show up for a little extra computer time, we discussed the Nines. I told her of my feelings and why I asked for a break from the Nines. She concurred. She said that she had been hoping that I would still be teaching them so that we could build a consistent program, one that would go across the board for ninth-graders, one on which we could build in coming years, completely revamping the English expectations. Now, THERE's a plan.

I told her how happy I was to hear this. I asked her if I should try to get back a few Nines, maybe trade a One for a Nine, or maybe the Twelves. She told me No. And I was a little shocked. I had been flattered that she had said that she had hoped to be working with me. Now, when I offered just such an opportunity, she refuses. Huh?

Then she told me her plan. I would become the liaison for the rest of the ninth-grade classes, the Ones. This way, it's completely across-the-board. I'm the plant. I feel like a pawn, but a happy little pawn. She has an agenda. Very nice.

June had been one of the candidates for Department Chair at the beginning of the year. I could have supported either her or Bruce, but opted for Bruce at the last minute, only because of his past experience as a Dean of Students; my rationale was that as a past administrator, he would be better equipped to be our department's liaison with the front office. When the election went down, the voting went down mostly along gender lines (Aimee being one of the few women to vote for Bruce, but, hell, she's really one of the Guys), with the new female teachers (Letty and Daniels) abstaining. Whispers of sexism were heard if one strained long and hard enough. I didn't buy it, but I do know Bruce has a hard fight when he now deals with many of June's female supporters.

Bruce has been an adequate D.C., but not a great one. There's been no sense of vision. June's got the vision. Makes me almost sorry I didn't vote her in. Her vision is solid. In five years, this could be a whole new English department, streamlined, lean, and mean.

Could be interesting. Might even stick around to see it.