catfight in the hallway

Teacher L told me there was a, I don't know, red alert, major code, I can't remember the term but it means all the big time personnel are to report to the big emergency area, which was in one of the stairwells by the main office. I had no idea what happened - probably some kid having a meltdown. Whatever. Nothing really surprises me anymore at my school.

Even when I got the story. The para from the next room came to ask me if I had such and such a student - no - she looked on my list - pointed to MC.'s name - "This one." she said. "His mother just started a fight with another mother in the stairwell."

Here's what I know - MC. is super SPED, still in my class for whatever reason though he's stopped running so much, and I've grown to adore him. However, when he gets stubborn, there is no stopping him - and he's a Big Kid. He's got two younger siblings at home, no dad in the picture, and his mother has said it's gotten harder and harder for her to protect her little ones at home when he starts losing it. And, p.s., she is pregnant. Last Tuesday MC. had a major meltdown wanting to be first on line from the library to lunch. I wasn't there, and my para wouldn't let him so there was some code call to come get him as he flipped out and spent the rest of the afternoon with the principal. The principal called his mother, who was at the doctor's office but came right after, having just been diagnosed with ovarian cancer.

So a few days later she beats up another mother in the stairwell. There is no excuse for this, but I can barely imagine what it's like to be her. In fact I have to shield myself from even thinking too much about it. What will happen to those kids? What will happen to MC., who has become so dear to me?

What's to become of any of these kids? What difference does it make that I am as present as possible, as loving as possible, an example of what? - some white woman that they will never be. I know it matters; I know it matters somehow. I know it matters or I would have bailed altogether rather than stay half time, which is still stressful enough. Even financially I'd be better off subbing a few days a week around my district than the half salary I"m taking. But I'm doing it because I love my kids. And I love my parents - even the ones who beat up on one another.

I talk to my husband a lot about my kids - this one did that today, this one made me laugh, that one finally got the math lesson, or that one wrote an amazing piece of writing -- I wonder sometimes what it will be like next year when I don't have them to talk about anymore.