Tuesday, December 15, 2009

Hell Hath No Fury Like a 17-Year-Old Scorned

Today during 2nd period there was a quick knock on the door and a lady stuck her head in the door. She looked like a psychologist, and, as I found out later, she was. A light-skinned black lady, well-put together, wearing all brown. Boots, a skirt, and thick-rimmed glasses.

She asked to speak to T, one of my (female) students. T is a junior and the emotional equivalent of a black hole and a tornado combined.

So, I told T to go out in the hall. She initially refused. "I'm taking a test," she said, which she was. I told her to cancel it (it was one of those computerized tests). After basically prying her hands from the computer and sending her into the hallway, I continued class.

About one minute later, T waltzed back into the room with one of those smug looks on her face. Since she always looks like that, I just told her to have a seat. But no sooner had she sat down than the psychologist burst through the door. She was almost crying.

"Excuse me," she sputtered. "I hate to interrupt class, but I want to give this girl a demerit." She gestured at T.

It was sort of an odd request, but I didn't even have time to respond before T exploded.

"What she be talkin about? This woman be tweakin! Don't come up in here with that! She a clown!"

And so on and so on.

Amazingly, the psychologist fired back. "This girl is being disrespectful towards me and blah, blah, blah."

"T," I said. I gave her my best teacher look, which isn't saying much. "Just stop. Just stop talking." She did, for a second, and then kept going. She was literally insulting this woman by calling her a clown and other ridiculous things.

The rest of the class was both interested and embarrassed at the same time. They sat quietly. The woman just kept yammering, at me or at anyone who'd listen, and T just kept on and on.

Finally I was able to get T to be quiet and extricate the psychologist from the room. I had a whispered conversation with T that would make no sense to any rational person, but at least sort of calmed her down.

The whole thing was insane. I mean, who's the crazy one, really? The psychologist who was reduced to tears by some 17-year-old girl? The girl, who is perhaps the most angry person I've ever met in my life? Or me, for putting up with this and acting like this is any kind of normal job?

The odd thing is that it was barely a big deal to me. T acts like this pretty much every day of her life, and I have to deal with it. The only difference today was that instead of mediating between T and some random girl in class, I was mediating between T and some 40-year-old psychologist who should know better. I'm no teacher, I'm a babysitter.

1 comment:

  1. Bless you, sir. You have an enviable amount of patience and compassion (although it might not feel like it). Far more than I can say I have.

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