M: I feel sick, I feel like I ate something wrong.
Mr. C: Uh oh. That’s not good.
M: Yeah, and my head hurts, and I feel like I got a gal pregnant.
Mr. C: Whoa, it just got real. You have a lot more problems than I thought.
Mr. C: What are you guys doing this summer?
K: I need to get a job.
B: I wanna work at the YMCA.
Mr. C: What do you want to do there?
B: Be a lifeguard, but I can’t swim.
Mr. C: Well you’re going to have to learn how to swim if you want to be a lifeguard.
T: You can’t swim!?
S: I got threw in the pool.
K: Yeah that’s how I learnt to swim too.
T: I fell off the diving board and I almost drownt. I swimmed and gave up halfway.
K I got in my first fight in the pool. Some nigga threw me in the 10 foot, and I was like Ahh!
Mr. C: So you had to learn for survival?
K: Yeah! About halfway down I started moving my arms and that was a wrap.
Mr. C: Well that’s one way to learn.
This is an older post I found from last year when I used to teach Culinary Arts and had 8th graders.
Three of my 8th grade students did not finish their work and therefore I did not let them cook.
Two got mad about this.
They tried to leave the classroom.
K: Can I go to the bathroom?
Mr. C: Do one question, and I will let you go. You haven’t done any work.
K: (pushes her stuff off the desk and pushes the desk.) Nah fuck that I’m leaving.
(she walks out the door)
As I’m writing her up, another students is cursing at another student and walks over to me.
R: How you going to write her up for not doing anything?
Mr. C: Mind your own business.
R: Don’t tell me what to do. You don’t tell us what to do. I’ll get the principal.
Mr. C: We can get the principal, and I’ll tell them how you’ve been acting.
R: I don’t give a shit about no principal.
Mr. C: Apparently.
K walks back in:
K: Don’t even try to write me up!
Mr. C: I did write you up.
K: Fuck you!
Mr. C: Okay.
K: Fuck you, fuck this school and fuck this work you just gave me. Fuck your skinny ass, ugly as hell.
Mr. C: Well I’m ugly, what can I do about it?
K: Fuck you.
Their Educational Assistant walks in and I explain the situation and they take them both to ISS.
K: Fuck this school (kicks a chair).
Mr. C: See you guys next time.
With my Seniors, I overheard them talking about the contents of my bottle.
T: Mr. C be over there drinking piss.
N: Yeah he is.
Mr. C: I can hear you. And this is tea. Why would I be drinking piss, that doesn’t even make sense.
T: Ha ha, Mr. C be too sarcastic.
During a test.
Mr. C: 5 minutes left on the test.
R: Guess what I bought the other day.
Mr. C: Tell me in 5 minutes.
(5 minutes later)
Mr. C: Okay the test is over I am going to come around and pick them up.
R: So guess what I bought.
Mr. C: What?
R: A gas mask.
Mr. C: Why did you get a gas mask?
R: I don’t know, somebody bought it for me. I said I might as well keep it, I got nothing else to do with it.
Mr. C: Okay.
R: I got it so when I smoke I don’t stink.
Mr. C: That makes no sense.
R: Nah I’m playin’, I stopped smoking in 2008, cause they found out I got cancer.
Mr. C: That is not true.
R: Nah but I see these little young dudes, bout 8 or 7, asking where the weed at.
Mr. C: Alright moving on.
C: Quit chewin’ with yo mouth open, that’s disrespectful.
M: Yo face is disrespectful.
C: Yo titties disrespectful.
Mr. C: That’s enough.
In the middle of class:
R: You know who I saw yesterday?
R: Donald Trump
Mr. C: Right.
R: Nah I’m playin’.
R: But if Donald Trump drop $500, he keep on walkin’.
Mr. C: Yeah I heard that. I think it’s $100, but it cost him more money to reach down and pick it up.
R: Yeah. He won’t drop down and pick it up, he just keep on walkin’.
L: Oh shit, he need to come to town!
Mr. C: What, would you just walk behind him and wait for him to drop money?
L: Hell yeah I straight up walk up to him and say:
“Mr. Trump, you got change for a 20?”
And he be all like “I’m sorry I only got $100’s”
And then I know he would drop some of that.
Mr. C: That’s an interesting theory.
L: That’s how you know you rich.
Mr. C: Well he definitely knows he is rich.
S walks in with a limp:
S: Damn man I gotta go to the hospital when I get home.
Mr. C: Why is that?
S: Cause I think I sprained my ankle.
Mr. C: Oh.
S: I ain’t been to the doctor yet.
Mr. C: What did you do to it?
S: I think I sprained it playin’ basketball at the house.
Mr. C: Oh yeah?
S: When I went up to dunk it, when I come back down it twisted like this right here, it went backwards and twisted, that shit hurt.
Mr. C: Ouch. I bet.
Later S was walking without a limp but oddly had a limp again around other students and staff, a medical mystery.
Out of nowhere this conversation started:
S: I’m gon’ get some false teeth bra.
Mr. C: Why would you want to do that?
S: I swear that would be some funny ass shit.
Mr. C: How?
S: Somebody could smack me in the back of the head real hard and make my teeth fall out.
Mr. C: That sounds terrible.
S: I be like “My teeth fell out cuz can you help me?”
Mr. C: Yeah but then you have to pick them up off the ground, and the ground is dirty.
S: Not if I’m in my house.
Mr. C: But the ground is still dirty.
S: Ah yeah, germs and shit.
Mr. C: Yeah.
S walked in this morning with an umbrella:
S: Come here and let me smack you with this.
Mr. C: Did you get a new umbrella?
S: Yeah you like it don’t you?
Mr. C: I don’t really like umbrellas but I guess it’s okay.
S: I paid alotta money for it.
Mr. C: Oh yeah?
S: Yeah 200 motherfuckin’ dollars.
Mr. C: That’s a lot for an umbrella.
S: It’s a real army umbrella.
Mr. C: I saw the camo on it.
S: Yeah it’s real, see? (Shows me the writing on the side, which doesn’t prove anything.)
Mr. C: Yeah. Where did you get it?
S: Uhhh…(pause) An auction.
Mr. C: Oh.
S: Paid too goddamn much for it. $250 motherfuckin’ dollars.
Mr. C: I thought it was $200?
Mr. C: Where is it from?
S: It’s from a real army base.
Mr. C: Yeah? Which one?
S: Uhhh…It’s from Ft. Campbell, or Afghanistan. I can’t remember which one.
Mr. C: Oh okay. Well go ahead and put it in the closet.