Drawing The Line

Okay:

There's no easy way to tell you this.

I'm sure that you, like me, have seen at least a half dozen "white person takes job at incredibly unsafe inner city school and inspires young at-risk niggers to recognize their own potential" movies. I hate them with a throbbing passion. Dangerous Minds. Freedom Writers. etc. etc.

While these films are inspirational, and no doubt, accurate, at least on an exception-to-the-rule level, I still find them offensive. White liberals in this country have a messianic complex, and we are the sinful masses in desperate need of a savior.

Glenn Close. Michelle Pfieffer. Keanu Reeves, for God's sake!

But, ah, the other side...

The little angels I teach every day need something. I don't know if they need a tree-hugging, Hybrid-driving Harvard graduate, but they need something. All I do know is that something is not me.

I'm not a good enough person to accomplish the mammoth task of saving my own people.

You read my blogs. Do you want me teaching your kids?

Honestly.

As you know, I've been toying with the idea of finding a new job for months. Not just a new job, but a new career. I got my sister to help me write a new spruced up resume and everything. But the truth is, I love the little bastards. They're ignorant, loud, illiterate, lazy...everything you've seen in the worst WB sitcom. But I love them. They're mine. I don't want to leave them. Or I wasn't sure if I wanted to leave them. Until today.

That brings me to the subject of this horribly wordy blog.

Today...one of the high school students peed on the floor.

Yes, you read correctly.

He peed on the fucking floor.

He was in class. He asked his teacher to use the bathroom. His teacher told him to wait. He said he couldn't and threatened to pee on the floor. His teacher ignored him an continued teaching the other students in the class. The student stood, walked over to the corner, pulled out his thang and pissed on the carpet.

Damn.

When confronted and ordered to clean up the piss, he ran out of the building.

I'm done.

What do Al Sharpton and Jesse Jackson have to say about that?

Let me guess. He peed on the floor because he's poor and his parents aren't doing their part and white people owe him something.

Or maybe he's just an asshole.

Either way, I'm done.

I'm done. I'm done. I'm done.

In my six years of teaching I've seen all kinds of shit. I've seen some pretty gruesome brawls. I've had my car vandalized. I've been threatened. Swung on. Spat at. Cussed out. Last year two of my students were murdered. This year someone brought a razor to school, presumably, to murder me.

But I, like most people, draw the line at urine.


Thanks for reading.

GO OBAMA!

Innocent Question: If I fantasize about girls I slept with in high school, is that, like, pedophilia?