I claimed my space, my little corner of the classroom—a
barricaded teacher surrounded by tables, desks, and cabinets. I’m limiting my risk
of injury by giving myself a point of egress: a classroom door for yours truly.
As for the convict-students, they are now required to enter and exit through
the old door once designated for emergencies.
A few prisoners are not happy with this new arrangement.
They feel displaced. An older black man now sits in the back. He says, “What
makes you think I can’t give you my blessing?”
Blessing, in case you’ve never heard the term, means “lay
hands on a person in a most unpleasant way.”
My reply: “Who’s to say I won’t jump over this table and
beat the brakes off you?”
Beat the brakes off you is similar in meaning.
His reply: “You ever see that movie, ‘White Man Can’t
Jump’?”
“Not ‘Man’,” I answer, ‘Men,’ it’s plural, besides, you ever
see that movie, ‘Black Man Can’t Swim’?”
Everyone’s laughing. They already know what went down last
week in my classroom, how a youngster hid behind my file cabinet waiting for
class to end so he could run the gears on another inmate on his way out.
Run the gears means to stick and stir.
Fortunately,
I had foiled his plan. I grabbed the globe he was twirling—“Uganda my ass”—and
told him to sit down.
So he and his Homey decided on Plan B. They sucker punched
the intended victim as he walked down the hallway; it mattered not how fast
they could run, their movement was captured on the security camera. All three
prisoners were handcuffed and hauled away to segregation; the shank was ditched
in the school bathroom trash bin but retrieved by a corrections officer and
logged in as “dangerous contraband.”
Me—barricaded. From now on.
5 comments:
There's a certain freedom in being barricaded.
If your pension is based on the best X of the last Y number of years then fuck yes barricade away. Ol' Ricky is claiming a surplus now maybe he could hire back some of the laid off guards and put one in each classroom.
I definitely need to stop complaining about my students.
JR saw the big one you caught on FB. We are glad to see you dusted off the old rod and haven't forgot how to use it. Its kinda like riding a bike. Once you learn you never forget. Even though you may not ride it again for maybe another 15 years. But when you get that chance you just ride like the wind. That fish is pure testamonial to your fishin skills.
Maybe you can do a post on it? Enjoyed the read. Thanks for sharing. Huck's Gang. :}
Thank god I got out of there when I did! Sometimes things happen for a reason! I hope to do my last 6 in a peaceful quit environment. As far as prisons go lol
J. W
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