I'm unwinding to The Tragically Hip and thinking about what I could've done differently Wednesday morning, the day a fight broke out in the next classroom. I heard furniture flying, thump-thumping, and muffled expletives. Had two of my own students escorted out fifteen minutes earlier--hey, you got to do something when they're swarming you like a pack of rabid dogs. I told a third inmate to "get the hell out, and stay out, and if you come back, bring you i.d. because I'm gonna write your ass up for being out of place."
"C'mon man," he pleaded, "I'll behave. Just let me stay in here for awhile." He sensed that I wasn't in the mood for his bullshit and off he trotted to "Gladiator School," or at least that's what the corrections officers jokingly call the classroom next door because of the broken chairs and tables that get hauled away on a regular basis.
The younger prisoners (17 to 22 years of age) often complain that I'm a miserable old cuss. I'd like to think I'm playing the part. I'm not so sure this prisoner drawn sketch is an accurate portrayal of my physical features, but it certainly fits my working mood. So, when the thump-thumping continued, the youngsters I've bitch-trained to stay seated looked up at me. "You gonna see what's happening?" one of them asked.
"Don't tell me how to do my job. I'll check on it when I'm good and ready." The thump-thumping grew louder. Followed by more muffled expletives. "Stay where you are," I ordered. Sometimes those dogs just won't listen; they followed.
The prisoner I'd threatened with a write up and his foe had each other in headlocks. I'm not quite sure what the teacher was trying to do. Standing there in disbelief, I guess. From what I'd gathered, he pulled his PPD (Personal Protection Device) which alerts custody of a problem. Sixteen years with the Department of Corrections and I've yet to use this little device. In fact, I've only had one alleged stabbing incident. I say "alleged" because no one could prove it took place in my area. When questioned by the inspectors, I replied, "I didn't see shit."
So here I am, listening to The Tragically Hip and wondering whether I had done the right thing. I worked crowd control, ordering my students back into my classroom while other staff members pried the two inmates apart. Soon they were handcuffed and hauled off to segregation without anyone getting injured. Much different than the time our horticulture teacher witnessed a handcuffed inmate get a pencil buried in his arm. "Don't pull it out," the corrections officer advised, not missing a beat. And why should he? Healthcare and Segregation are in the same building.
18 comments:
Gladiator school. I love it. It sounds like our office this week.
Too bad you couldn't have one of those little buttonhole cameras, then you could tape stuff like that and put it on YouTube for all of us to see.
Sounds like our family dinners growing up!
I have finally figured out the answer to why you never smile. I guess I'm kinda slow.
Geewits,
In other words, you're saying the sketch looks like me? Or fits my mood?
You gotta read an old essay by Tom Wolfe, "Mau-Mauing the Flak-Catchers"
Buncha Samoan welfare recipients used tiki sticks for the bang-bang effect.
I think you've been Mau-Maued.
Ah well, come up to Suburbia here.
You'll get malled!
Ivan
Pencils are dangerous things. I think you should soo revel in being mean I mean if they think your a walk over that'll hardly work
That sketch, to me, is the funniest thing. I nearly laughed out loud when I saw it. (It takes a lot to make me actually laugh out loud.) You must really be "grumpy" in the classroom for that fellow to be able to sketch you looking like that!
I think you should have your own reality show on TV and the cameras should follow you to your job and then around at home. Well, not the fishing part...because waiting on fish to bite is boring and stuff....
Hell yeah you did the right thing. It wasn't your fight, last time I got involved in a fight not mine I got my ankle broke.
Besides you're just a skinny little dude, with good taste in music.
And we both know the convicts are going to settle their scores one way or another, whether it be in "gladiator school" or the yard.
The picture, especially the mouth reminds me of my fourth grade teacher except she was a hateful old bitch who had been in the Habit for at least 90 years. Now that I think of it she was the first person I ever swung on. The head penguin said the same thing; " Just leave the ruler embedded in his hand." As i was hauled off to segregation in her office.
Peace
mark
Ya look like Howard. I wonder if the artist was at Maxey? Enjoy the post. MW
I'm with Josie and Ellie -- you need your own reality show. Count your no-nonsense toughness as hard won/earned respect.
Sounds a little like my office at times. Except we have phones being thrown and people drowning their rage in alcohol....but similar...
Wow, a little excitement at school. Will you incorporate the idea into some creative writing? lol
Best to just keep your class in order if possible..when do you get to retire???
Hey Jim, the sketch does not look like you, no worries. More like a Dickens character, or Scrooge, which may be what you want them to think at the time of crowd control.
More fun in the unfree world. Blimey!
Are you sure this isn't one of those criminal sketches, drawn up from the victim's recollection?
Man, that dude's guilty, just look at his pursed lips, look at that scowl, guilty, guilty, guilty, with a capital "G."
You know The Tragically Hip??? I AM NOT ALONE!!! :) I once sang "Blow at High Dough" w/my band friends at a bar. In retrospect, "New Orleans is Sinking" is more disturbing than it used to be...
(Welcome back, btw. You were missed.)
Jim, I'd probably lock down the room if it was possible. But you might have come back to your room with a little head bashing going on. That hand sketch kind of looks like ME! But I have a wonderful job! Yeah, right! --Bro, Ron
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