Side note: I came up with this idea a while ago, but due to...LIFE...I haven't been able to write all 10 yet. I figured I'd start with these three and continue to add, periodically, until I reach Number 1 (a doozy, I tell you).
A few of us teachers were hiding out in the break room the other lunch, and we started laughing about some of the (mis)adventures that we've had over the years as teachers. (mis)Adventures that we were never warned about in teacher school.
Here are some of my Top 10 Teacher (mis)adventures, in no particular order...
10. The Run-In: students find you.
It
was one of those days. The kind where it snuck up on me and head-smacked me
over and over. Heading home, I stopped at Target to pick up a few necessities
for my survival of the next 12-ish hours. You know, the recovery-kit: Totino’s
Pizza Rolls (the max pack), the large bag of Halloween candy (bless Target for
starting early on that marketing campaign), the 2-gallon jug-o-wine (I’m not
ashamed), Ben and Jerry’s Phish Phood (it’s possible there were three of them),
“Felicity” seasons 1 – 3, and um…how does one put this delicately? A box of
“lady items.” Suddenly, out of nowhere (and, I mean NOWHERE) this voice pipes
up, “Ms. Doe! How ARE you?!?” There, before me, stands one of the culprits of
said horrid day (and creator of my need for at least half of that jug of wine),
smiling as if he’s as pure as the driven snow (he’s not. I promise). Standing
next to him? His father. The lead pastor of the most über-conservative church
in town.
9. Back-to-School-Night:
As
if the idea that I need to talk to the PARENTS of my students isn't bad enough,
my very first B2S Night (as our school likes to abbreviate it), I looked like
one of the students. I kid not, that year I was “escorted” to the office more
times than I could count by our “helpful” parent volunteers, all of whom were
convinced that I was out of class without permission. Needless to say, that
night, I needed to look the grown up part. I had that down – and was tastefully
dressed in a way that (I had hoped) conveyed a level of maturity and
sophistication
All
was good until dinner time. The school provided us with a meal, since so many
of us couldn't go home and back in the time allotted, so I had moved to the
quad to join my co-workers. It was then that it happened. The worst, worst
possible issue to befall a tastefully dressed lady who so needed to impress her
students’ parents.
GRAPE JELLY.
I
sat in it, unawares. A large, purple, sticky blob had formed on the back of my
dress, and of course, we discovered it five minutes before the festivities were
to start. There was no time to run home to change – I had no Plan B.
I
spent the whole Back to School Night leaning against my whiteboard, hiding my
purple-hued left butt-cheek, praying that no one would notice. I thought I had
succeeded until I met the parents for Student Council (my last class of the
night).
It
was then that the Student Body President (who was in attendance, and whom I
have forgiven…I think…), stage whispered, “Ms. Doe…! What happened to your dress?!?!”
Lesson
learned: bring three clothing options for B2S Night. Never leave anything to
chance.
8. Driving “Adventures”:
Every
teacher has to drive his/her students somewhere over the course of his/her
teaching career, but I think the teachers at my school have pulled the lion’s
share of this duty. Between field trips, service days, sports games, and
missions trips, we always seem to be piling kiddos into vehicles and departing
to destinations unknown.
One
year, I was tasked with driving a white 15-passenger van (!! We called it “Moby
Dick”) filled with 16-year-old boys all over (I mean ALL OVER) San Francisco.
The thing about 16-year-old guys is: they just learned to drive, think they’re
10-feet-tall and bullet proof, and honestly think they can drive better than
you – even though you earned your license BEFORE THEY WERE BORN.
Needless
to say, the whole way to SF, all I heard was how I should merge over, go
faster, get around that car up ahead, and “Geez; could you turn OFF Boston/Train/The
Who/Journey/Eric Clapton and turn on Chris Brown??” Every bit of my performance
was under critique from teenage driving professionals, and I came up lacking.
Until.
Until
the field trip headed to Ghirardelli Square. Until I pulled the coup d’état
that knocked all the wind out of their very-full-of-s#@% attitudes and sails.
I
parallel parked that Moby Dick of a van directly in front of the Ghirardelli
sign like a pro.
Take that, boys.
