Bitter/Ugly

I keep meaning to post this story, but continually forget when I sit down to write. I fear it might be lost in translation (and without the ability to "inflect," but whatever). Even so, I'm writing it down today. Classic teaching moment ...


I was filling in for a 7/8 Grade English teacher a couple of weeks ago. The school is "on the bad side of town" and most of the kids are minorities. A rough school for sure, but you discover fairly quickly that the kids there are so, so, so great if you have a chance to really talk to them and get to know them a little bit ... apart from their violent and seemingly destructive behavior (most are on probation at the age of 13 or so).

(Must not get on my soapbox about these kids and the conditions in which they have had to grow up and experience! Later ... much later.)

Anyhow, I was in the same classroom for 2 days, in which the regular teacher had left absolutely no lesson plans, meaning I had to make something up spur-of-the-moment for what the school calls "advisory." Since kids had been learning about character development, theme, and plot, I had them read a book of their choice independently for about 30 minutes, then write a summary including ... you guessed it! ... character analysis, theme, and plot.

While it took most of the students the majority of the class period to finish this assignment, about 3 of them finished way ahead of the rest. These 3 asked if they could work on a crossword puzzle together in one of the monthly educational magazines they use for supplementary assignments from time to time. Since they weren't asking to run around the halls with their hair on fire, and, instead, asking if they could complete something of merit ... of course, I said yes.

With about 20 minutes or so left for that particular class, then entire class was done with the reading portion of the day, the 3 aforementioned students were sitting in the far corner of the room together, barely even whispering about the crossword as they worked, while the rest of the class was very quietly writing their summaries, and I was walking around the room answering questions for those who needed help ...

Without warning, in bursts a "lead teacher," slamming the door open, stomping into the classroom with wild eyes and unruly hair, hollering at the kids to "GET TO WORK!!!!!" Thundering to the front of the room, she screams at me ... "What do you have these kids doing? What are they working on? Why are those three sitting over there? What is going on in this classroom?!?!?!"

Mind you, NONE of the kids had been talking, save the 3 in the corner, who I could so very barely hear from a mere 2 desks over ... and ALL of them were busy working on their assignment when she came barreling into the room like a much taller and more unkempt, yet equally as off-putting and bitchy, version of Ms. Umbridge from Harry Potter.

Stunned, yet composed, I politely answered her questions, explained the lack of lesson plans left for the day, told her my emergency assignment, expressed the reasons for the kids in the corner working on a crossword together, and told her the students were actually behaving amazingly well, were delightful, and that I was doing my job to down to the very last detail.

To this response, she huffed (audibly), spun on her heel, and tore out of the classroom, telling 5 or so kids, who were sitting down ... to "pull up their pants and tuck in their shirts immediately." (The pants were being sat on ... with no butts hanging out ... and it is school dress code to tuck in shirts, which I check every period of every day as they walk in the door ... so nothing was awry, and her outburst was absolutely unwarranted.)

As she slammed the door behind her ('don't let it hit you in the ass on the way out'), all of the kids, as well as myself, looked as though we had been sucker-punched across the face. All 25 or so pairs of eyes were staring at me for some sign of an appropriate reaction to follow, and I was still too in shock from being reamed for absolutely nothing to blink, much less speak.

After about a full minute of silence (long one in that situation) with everyone kind of oddly staring at each other, one of the timid little girls in the front said, "She's like all the time. No one likes her. Not even the other teachers." I nodded and asked to the entire class, "I mean ... ... ... seriously ... ... ... what's wrong with her?!"

A very quick and witty boy in the back of the class immediately responded very matter-of-factly, "She bitter 'cause she ugly."

25 or so kids froze with saucer-sized eyes ...

And I literally fell over laughing! Then it was a like a hysterical chain reaction. The boy who made the comment started to chuckle really deeply and loudly, then the rest of the class positively burst! I snorted, I cried, we laughed and laughed and laughed. It was like that horribly inappropriate moment where you are definitely not supposed to even crack a smile, but simply cannot contain yourself in even the most slightly controlled way. And it just got worse and worse and worse, until we were ALL snorting and crying and falling over. None of us, including myself, regained control until the bell about ten minutes later.

I wish I had a recording of his face, his voice, and overall demeanor when he said that ... "She bitter 'cause she ugly." Oh ... it was so great! By leaps and bounds my favorite moment in teaching so far.