De colores

"I went to a pig roast this weekend" the second grader responded when asked how he was doing. "I ate PIG".

Well, I eat shit, I thought, as his teacher waved her hand in my face in an act of dismissal and stomped out of my classroom. I forget sometimes how important these elementary school teachers are. That my job is to be their lady in waiting, their babysitter, their maid, whenever they feel like dropping their classes off because they need a break. Silly little me thinking I was a real teacher. And for having a little self respect when I marched my ass down to her classroom and let her know that I wasn't her maid. She told what she really thinks, which was even worse than I would have ever imagined. When she apologized, I told her that I wanted to drop it. She thought I was being gracious, but I wasn't. I know what she thinks and an apology won't fix that, or the fact that half the people I work with share the same impression; that "specials' teachers are not a real teachers, that we work less than they do, that our classes don't matter, that we are only there to make their lives easier. It's a little hard to take. But I don't want to argue about it. I've defended my job enough lately.

"Just trust us" the board representative told the teachers after we refused to sign our contracts. "Well I feel better now!" one of my fellow teachers exclaimed and they signed. Simultaneously, the board announced that they wanted to significantly increase the size of our student population and house the new kids in my classroom. SUCKERS!! Not only would I have more instructional hours added to my packed schedule, I would have to roll around on a cart and visit the various classrooms in order to teach. I began applying for jobs immediately.

"We have to think about direct action against Nathan Deal while HB87 sits on his desk. Who can find the governor's schedule for the upcoming week?". The meetings against Georgia's hate bill were up to twice a week and included homework. Spreadsheets, phone calls, emails. "I need information from you as soon as possible how increasing the size of the school will effect student achievement in Spanish" my co-worker requested "I need data. We have to stop this thing". More homework, after two or three faculty meetings in the same week. "So, how can we help you with the school wide assembly?" the group of parents asked me at yet another after school meeting. "The props are done. Everything is done. The assembly is less than a week away" I answered. Where the fuck were you while I was busting my ass to make this obligatory thing happen? Alone. Managing the costumed skits, rehearsals, setting up risers, videos, songs and dances of 370 elementary age children, alone. Meetings everyday, immigration, faculty, some days with double headers after school. Little help from the K-5 teachers, no help from parents. Only the other "specials" helped. "What bitches," they said "we'll help you. You can't corral 370 kids by yourself during an assembly".

"De colores...." the fourth grader sang "...y por eso los grandes amores de muchos colores me gustan a mí..." I was surprised that I was chocking up. She volunteered to do it, wanted to do it, to promote the assembly. Stood up there with her dad and sang the entire lovely song in Spanish. I felt proud. Their skinny little arms hugged me, circled my neck, my waist, my leg. It's their way of saying "hi" and they do it instinctively. I am proud of them.

I was standing in a parking lot, drunk. The assembly was a bit of a disaster, technical problems, communication errors, but the kids had a blast and the damn thing was over. Parents popped up at the last minute and helped corral the kids during the assembly and one dad even put a suit on and mc-ed the thing for me. And... the Board decided not to add the extra group of kids. No cart for me....I could keep my classroom.

Decisions, decisions.