Today started and ended rather poorly, with some not-bad shoved in the middle. I had a moment of pure assholery from one of my anger management cases when the simple act of saying “good morning” less than a minute after walking into the building earned me an eye-roll and preadolescent stomping away. They try to train us to not take this personally when it happens, and I do my damnedest, but fuck it’s 7:30 in the Goddamn AM and I don’t need this shit this early in the morning.
I had a similar moment with another kid earlier this week when I was supposed to escort a line of them somewhere else in the building. I didn’t know most of them, and I asked the first kid in the line what his name was, intending to segue directly into Okay, Jimmy, I need you to walk to this corner and stop, and the motherfucker told me he didn’t know his name.
I blinked at him a couple of times and repeated the question, trying to assume he hadn’t heard the question.
“I ain’t got one.”
Goddamnit I am neither in the mood nor do I have the time for this shit. I asked you a simple and friendly question, you little fuck, and it’s a goddamn crime that I’m not allowed to resolve this situation by just punching you in your stupid throat and then asking the second kid what his name is, assuming that your crumpled, gasping body would give him some evidence as to whether he should answer the fucking question or not.
This; this is the shit that makes me not want anything to do with this job anymore. I know intellectually that this kid’s life has got to be fucked in some way because no one is this goddamned noncompliant and aggressive over simple shit for no fucking reason. My problem is that it’s not even September and I’m already not even close to the point where I can care any more. I’ve been in the trenches for fourteen fucking years. That’s enough. I need one kid who has a shitty home life and awful parents and needs someone with some compassion around him and instead I have hundreds, and I just can’t fucking deal with it any longer.
Thank fuckin’ God my homeroom is so nice. It ensures I still have some patience left when my much more problematic afternoon class comes along, because that’s the class with the special ed kids and the behavior problems. I found out today that one of my afternoon girls is the second child of the lunatic at the end of this post, a fact that does not surprise me at all given her behavior, because Mom has absolutely no ability to deal with anything in any way other than swearing and cursing and screeching at the top of her lungs. She’s been issued a restraining order by the school I worked at in that story, in fact. The very first time she tries this shit with me will be the last, one way or another.
(I mean, Christ, does this shit actually ever work for you? What the hell kind of life do you live when swearing and screaming like a lunatic at life’s every setback is your only way to cope? Does getting arrested and kicked out of/banned from ever reentering places all the goddamn time appeal to you? Because I know this nonsense isn’t getting you what you want.)
I’m glad it’s the weekend, is what I’m saying.