Nipple Rings and Office Supplies
A few days ago during first period I was sitting at my desk as the students worked on their presentations. They had to pick a work out of the book we hadn't discussed, summarize it, analyze it, and create an assignment for the class to do based on the text. I was impressed, because most of them were taking it seriously for once.
Then, almost as if the universe sensed it had to disrupt the normalcy that flowed from the room, all hell broke loose.
First a couple of guys began playing bloody knuckles. If you're not familiar with said game, the object is to hit another person's knuckles with your knuckles and cause them inordinate amounts of pain. Then they take a turn and the cycle continues until one of them quits.
While I was breaking up this little display of misdirected machismo a boy decided to staple his arm. Staple his arm. I looked up just in time to watch him press the stapler against his arm. He didn't even wince. Of course, everyone got up and oohed and aahed as if Moses himself had parted the sea.
All I could think was "What does a teacher these days have to do? Do I remove all sharp objects from the room and pad the walls in rubber? If a student chooses to gouge their eyes out with a pair of scissors am I liable? Do I give a student that wields office supplies on himself detention or a free pass to therapy? Something tells me the counselors aren't quite ready for this."
Anyway, I retrieve the stapler as the boy shows off his wound, staple still embedded in his skin. To be honest, I'm baffled at this point and have no idea how to react. I never in a thousand years thought someone in class would be dumb enough to literally staple their arm. So shell-shocked, I walk back to my desk and attempt to breathe.
Right as I'm calming down, a boy announces that the self-stapling was nothing. He says, "a nipple ring hurts a whole lot more." He then proceeds to begin lifting up his shirt, but I am able to stop him before I see that which will surely blind my eyes a la Raiders of the Lost Ark.
Fourty-four days left. Keep me in your prayers.
Then, almost as if the universe sensed it had to disrupt the normalcy that flowed from the room, all hell broke loose.
First a couple of guys began playing bloody knuckles. If you're not familiar with said game, the object is to hit another person's knuckles with your knuckles and cause them inordinate amounts of pain. Then they take a turn and the cycle continues until one of them quits.
While I was breaking up this little display of misdirected machismo a boy decided to staple his arm. Staple his arm. I looked up just in time to watch him press the stapler against his arm. He didn't even wince. Of course, everyone got up and oohed and aahed as if Moses himself had parted the sea.
All I could think was "What does a teacher these days have to do? Do I remove all sharp objects from the room and pad the walls in rubber? If a student chooses to gouge their eyes out with a pair of scissors am I liable? Do I give a student that wields office supplies on himself detention or a free pass to therapy? Something tells me the counselors aren't quite ready for this."
Anyway, I retrieve the stapler as the boy shows off his wound, staple still embedded in his skin. To be honest, I'm baffled at this point and have no idea how to react. I never in a thousand years thought someone in class would be dumb enough to literally staple their arm. So shell-shocked, I walk back to my desk and attempt to breathe.
Right as I'm calming down, a boy announces that the self-stapling was nothing. He says, "a nipple ring hurts a whole lot more." He then proceeds to begin lifting up his shirt, but I am able to stop him before I see that which will surely blind my eyes a la Raiders of the Lost Ark.
Fourty-four days left. Keep me in your prayers.
posted by Yorick at 6:23 PM
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