J left Culinary Arts and came to my classroom:
J: I just got finished cookin’ Mr. C.
Mr. C: Oh yeah? What did you cook?
Mr. C: Okay. How did they turn out?
J: They gave me a 10 because they were extra juicy.
Mr. C: Uh uh.
J: You know what I mean Mr. C?
Mr. C: You’re talking to the wrong person about this, but I understand.
J: You know you used to eat things juicy when you ate meat.
Mr. C: No actually I really didn’t.
This is from last year when I taught Culinary Arts.
My 8th Graders were rambunctious. One of my students was throwing things and running around the room and refusing to sit down. I got face to face with them.
C: Get out of my face nigga!
Mr. C: Sit down.
C: Nigga! Nigga! Nigga!
Mr. C: Are you seriously calling me that right now?
C: Yeah nigga. This is some bullshit nigga!
Mr. C: Is it?
Mr. C: Why would you call me that? I don’t like that word, and I’m white.
Mr. C: Do you know what that word means?
C: It means you an ignorant black person.
Mr. C: So why would you call me that?
Mr. C: That word is derogatory and demeaning.
C: I don’t know what those words mean.
Mr. C: They mean being disrespectful.
C looks away.
Mr. C: Look at me.
Do you respect me?
Mr. C: Then sit down.
C sits down.
This was actually a breakthrough. When I first started teaching at this school, I had to earn my respect from my students. It was a proving ground. There was a period of time where my students were pushing the boundaries. These students don’t like change, so they didn’t like me at first. Some students wanted to make my life hell thinking that I would quit. They wanted their old teacher back. But after a while, the students came around. I earned their respect and a right to stay at this school.
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.
In Culinary Arts, dicing some onions.
K: Look at Mr. C, dicing them onions like a chef.
Mr. C: Yep. You know I used to teach this class last year right?
D: You know how to cut real fast.
Mr. C: It takes practice, but you can learn to dice this way.
S: Dice that pussy.
Mr. C: No.
Mr. C: You just had to make it sexual.
2nd Block with 8th Graders
K: You got sarsages in here?
Mr. C: No, we will never cook with meat in here.
K: Oh I forgot you a veggie.
2nd Block with 8th graders:
I sent a student to the bathroom and waited at the door for a long time. Long enough for another one of my students to need to go as well. He waited at the door with me.
(Student walks super slow out of the restroom past a teacher who was waiting for another student.)
Mr. C: You were gone forever. Were you playing around in there?
C: Nah, I letta hot one out.
M: Yeah I gotta letta hot one out too.
Mr. C: Well go on.
M: Nah, I gotta wait for that teacher to leave the hall.
Mr. C: Why?
M: I can’t letta teacher know that I be doo dooin’.
Mr. C: What?
M: I don’t wanna teacher know I be goin’ doo doo.
Mr. C: Man, everybody doo doo’s.