8th Grade

This is an older post I found from last year when I used to teach Culinary Arts and had 8th graders.
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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.
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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.
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Diarrhea

Walking down the hall from ISS:
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L: Hey Mr C.
Mr. C: Hey L.
L: I got diarrhea.
Mr. C: Oh no, I hate when I get diarrhea.
L: You be gettin’ diarrhea?
Mr. C: Yeah sometimes.
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Rap Sheet Citation

Yesterday my student came to school late, walked out of ISS and into another classroom and whispered something to some students. When I tried to get them back in they ran down the stairs and out the back door of the building into a nearby neighborhood.
The student walked in this morning:
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Mr. C: You booked it yesterday.
K: I what?
Mr. C: You ran, fast, you booked it out of school.
K: Yeah, but they got me.
Mr. C: What?
K: I got a motherfuckin’ citation.
(Pulls out a rolled up piece of paper and opens it up like a scroll and reads)

The juvenile was the passenger in his friend’s vehicle, pulled over in a PD investigative stop.
The juvenile was the suspect of being armed.
The juvenile was supposed to be in school at the time of the stop.
A pistol was found in the glove compartment of the vehicle.

Mr. C: Wow, that’s quite a rap sheet there.
K: Yeah.
Mr. C: Whose pistol was it?
K: Man I don’t even know.
D: How many strikes is that?
K: Pssh I gotta go to court.
Mr. C: Yeah.
K: And 9 times outta 10 they gon’ lock a nigga up.
I ain’t gon’ do no god damn time.
If I do a month, that ain’t shit.
Mr. C: This may be a reality check for you K. You can’t keep going around doing these things without consequences.
K: Yeah I gotta stop messing around, I just might as well go ahead and do my time.
Mr. C: Yeah.
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Middle Finger

Bringing class work to one of my juniors in ISS:

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Mr. C: Do you have a pencil?
S: (Points middle finger at me)
Mr. C: Are you going to write with your middle finger?
S: Fuck you.
Mr. C: I’ll take that as a no. I’ll come back and get your work at the end of the class period.
S: Aight.
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