WAITING IS BETTER THAN TRYING

That revolving door of students, those 360 degrees of perpetual motion, will spin a teacher silly with keeping score. As soon as I get rid of one … two … or three via discipline/behavioral problems, transfers, paroles, and sometimes untimely death, there are more potential walking disasters lined up three and four deep desperately claiming to be ready for testing, not because they’re remotely close, not because they actually want to learn, but because they’re up for parole, they can taste their freedom. Take a number, stand in line, and play the waiting game. It has more validity, more significance, than enrollment status.

And why shouldn’t it?

The policy directive (based on The Rubber Band Theory, where you stretch and twist the rules and procedures to fit your needs) clearly allows school exemptions based on the following: Through no fault of his own, Prisoner So-and-so was unable to obtain his GED; therefore, he should be waived from the requirement for parole purposes.

It’s not easy getting your GED when you’re on a waiting list for enrollment. It’s much harder showing up for class.

Ask Inmate Simpson, he will tell you just how effective the system works. After missing the first three weeks of my class, I wrote him a major misconduct ticket—“036 Out of Place.” His failure to set foot in classroom #82 (it’s on his itinerary)—aka classroom #70 (it’s above my door)—instead of studying in another classroom (how dare he!), has put him on the hot seat.

“Can I speak with you?” he asked.

“No,” I answered. He was holding the goldenrod copy of the ticket I’d written on him. “You’ve been terminated from my class. Go away.”

“But …”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

“I was in the wrong classroom.”

Hmmm … why the mix-up? Is it my room number?

Upon Teacher A’s verification, the most reasonable thing to do would be to “pull the ticket” and keep Prisoner Simpson enrolled in school. No need for him to appear in Kangaroo Court.

But not so fast! The authorities have determined that on the day in question, Teacher A was conducting classes elsewhere, in a different building! Therefore, Prisoner Simpson, in theory, could have attended my class. The ticket and termination would stand.

What could I say? “Sorry. Better luck next time.”

But the plot thickens.

A day later, after speaking to Prisoner Simpson, the “powers that be” decided I needed to “pull the ticket.”

“The ticket has been reviewed,” the Hearings Investigator told me. “He’s going to trial. That is, unless you’re willing to write a memo to the Warden, explaining your stance.”

I’ve spent too much time and energy on nonsense. I’m sure it will be sorted out. The way I look at it—guilty or not guilty—he’s still in prison, he’s still waiting for a parole, but after the ticket, he may be waiting a little longer.