I took the two-part Praxis test to license me to teach 10-12th grade today. First part started at 7:30, the second at 2:15. The 7:30 administrators were fifteen minutes late and carrying drinks and food from Sonic. We, the test takers, on the other hand, were not allowed to even bring a drink in with us.

I've got a pretty wicked cold/sinus infection/whatever going on right now, so I bought some tissues for my runny nose. There were a few other sickies in there as well, since we were all pretty much working teachers exposed to the Virus of The Week habitually. There was one lady who had to raise her hand and go out for a break to have a sneeze-cough fit. The proctors took her test and paper and out she went.

First problem I had with the proctors: they had a clock, but they did not use it. The seeming "head proctor" used her CELL PHONE as a timer. I thought that was a hideous way to keep "official time", even though we were not allowed to even have our cell phones ON. So, there was no clock up anywhere for us to keep check on the time. That wasn't cool, either. I've been administering standardized tests for six years now, I know the ropes.

So okay, back to cough/sneeze lady. At one point, BOTH PROCTORS LEFT THE ROOM. WTF??!! So, during this albeit brief time, the lady starts up again and she walks just outside the door to sneeze and cough. Then she came back in. Presently the proctors came in and they THREW HER OUT. As in, get your crap and get out of here. These tests cost over 100.00 and neither of them were in the room for her to ask if she could leave.

Cut to me. I am constantly dealing with my runny nose. I was blowing it very quietly, not some big honk honk type of blow. I blew it at one point and Miss Head Proctor makes her way to me and says "Ma'am", like the chicks at the makeup counter in Macy's say "ma'am", which we all know really means ...she says "Ma'am, you need to go outside to blow your nose. You are disturbing other people and they could complain." I felt flushed with embarrassment and said "I'm sorry, I have a cold." and she gets more attitude with me and says "You HAVE to go OUTSIDE to blow your nose. It's one of the test regulations."

I'm so sure the administration manual says "Admonish people who are sick and come to the testing center anyway- because our tests are so ridiculously overpriced and they're useless AND could be done on line anyhow and they can't afford to lose $230.00 for a drippy nose. ADMONISH THEM, and be snobby about it!"

Okay, so now I am drippy and pissed. I couldn't get back to work for a long time after that. I just sat and fumed. Finally I was able to get my crap together and finish ahead of time, so I put my hand up and took my test to the desk up front. I said "I have to go out" and she takes my test and flops it on the desk. I asked how many minutes were left and she acted like I had asked for a kidney. 20 minutes. I spent the next 17 minutes outside snorking into a tissue and smoking because I was furious. I came in just in time to take the test back, then turn it back in, and leave.

My next test started at 2:15, so I went home and ate. I went back about one and sat down in the sun to try and dry my sinuses out, and who should come out and start talking to her colleagues but Miss Snobby. Now, I would not have said anything to a nose blower in the first place, seeing how I have more manners than I have attitude, but she stood DIRECTLY in front of me, talking loudly and being obnoxious while I was trying to look over my Praxis study guide. I wanted to say "I certainly hope your snobby self isn't proctoring the afternoon session" but I heard her say she had to run errands and was leaving.

I'm just so mad.

Anyway, the afternoon test was proctored by a very friendly man, who set up the clock and put the start and finish time on the board. I had to write an essay about two teaching points in To Kill a Mockingbird, come up with two possible obstacles for learners in the reading of the book, came up with two activities for teaching the book, read a student-written essay (narrative about a favorite place), point out strengths, weaknesses, specific remedies, and then write an activity for re-teaching the narrative to improve it's content.

In ONE HOUR.

I busted butt, and wrote almost to the wire. I gave the writing part a lick and a prayer because it took forever to write the To Kill a Mockingbird thingy.

So, here's how it goes...

Last Friday was the last day of school before Spring break. So you can bet your apple bottoms that I was trying to get those kids on the bus and out of there. Two students, whom I will affectionately refer to as Rerun One (had him last year & he failed) and The ADHD Poster Child (ADHDPC) were wandering the bus parking lot with happy abandon. My mentee, who is working her posterior off trying to do the right thing (but she's a math teacher, so I don't know why she cares so much: she'll always have a job, even if she was an ax murderer. "Well, Miss M, you didn't hack anyone to shreds at THIS school, did you? No? Okay, you're hired!") calls my attention to Rerun One and ADHDPC. I went over and said "Hey you guys, you ride a bus?"

Now, I know they do, because I am on bus duty every afternoon and I those two generally work the yard (so to speak) for a few minutes before they'll get on their respective buses. But I am playing along in this crazy lil' thing called Getting Into Trouble. The first part of this little dance involves said students acting as if they did not hear me, so I step into their path and ask again. Both mumbled that they were walking home today.

Now is the time on the bus lot when we read the Miranda: "Walkers should not be on the bus lot. You should be back up at the front where Mr. Gym Teacher will escort you across the big bad road. "

More blank, 30-yard stares and they keep moving. I am fed a little bit of gossip by another teacher ("Rerun One is trying to get into a fight with Blah Blah.")


Oh, this makes everything so much clearer! I manage to get them turned around as they try to make more and more contacts re: The Fight. As they move to the front of the school, I catch up with my homeboy Peacemaker (this name is dripping with irony) and our mutual buddy Young Coach. I inform them that Rerun is spoiling for a fight and ADHDPC is an instigatin' fool. Young C swings wide for the interception and gets them as they start across the street. When Peace grabs them, they start that typical "Aw, man! What'd we do? We didn't do NUH-THIN!"

"I heard you're supposed to fight Blah Blah this afternooon, Rerun!" says Pax with sarcastic thrill. Rerun One tosses his head but will not go eye-to-eye with Peace.

"Nah, man."

By now, my fat butt has caught up. "If you're gonna fight, don't be a wuss, fight right here on the school grounds. I'll throw some money down."

Rerun winces at me and does the mouth smacking thing.

I don't know if the general public understands this, but a teacher cannot bear the mouth smacking thing. It goes directly into the ear canal and from there it journeys straight to the spinal column at lightning speed.

It is amazing at how fast the responses start pouring out of your mouth. Words just rat-ta-tat-tat like out of a Tommy gun.

"Well, shoot, then, we can just go right up here to Deputy Dawg and the principal and see about getting you home, since I just watched your sister, O Rerun, get on your bus and leave the parking lot. Perhaps you can explain to the deputy why you insisted on wandering the bus parking lot when you should have been high-tailing it for school transport vehicle 393."

Rerun One and ADHDPC both begin explaining how they live in the neighborhood right across the street. I already had the counter-attack:

"No, you can't live there, because you both ride a bus and you have to live more than a mile from school to ride a bus home. Should I have the deputy call a patrol car to take you home?"

Silence.

"Enjoy that three mile walk to your neighborhood, guys. In the opposite direction of Blah Blah's house."

We watched them until they were tiny figures, cresting the hill waaay down the road.

Well. They could have been going to jail. Or worse.

Hey.

I'm Meng. It's a configuration of my given name. Don't worry about it. I wish to remain semi-anonymous due to my employment.

See, I'm a public school teacher.

(there is a murmur in the crowd)

A literature teacher.

(ahhhhhh)

In a middle school.

(ooooooh)

So, hopefully, you can and will grasp my situation.