Teenagers Scare the Living Shit Outta Me

So yeah... 14-year-olds are fucking crazy.

First, The "Teenagers are Immature Assholes" Story:

On Wednesday, my mentor teacher and I took half of the ninth-grade class to the nearby university to see a college theater performance of Of Mice and Men, that nice little tale of George and Lennie, the world-wise migrant worker and his mentally challenged best friend. It was a daytime field trip that allowed the attendees to get out of class for the day. Needless to say, attendance was high. I've chaperoned my mentor teacher's regular "Evening at the Theater" events, so I expected this trip to be similar; however, I didn't consider the fact that the "Evening at the Theater" treks are usually attended by mostly honors students.

So we arrive at the campus, and indications are already leaning toward the batshit. After eating lunch in the food court, almost a hundred of them head for the doors. We think they're heading outside, which is fine. When we finally head out, however, we find them all lined along a giant stairwell, staring down and yelling at each other - like they were tripping out after seeing the movie Vertigo. I can't even imagine their collective thought process at the time. "Wow! Stairs! They allow people to ascend levels at a relative incline. Brilliant!!"

So we gather them off the stairway to heaven and herd them over to the theater. They're chattering away before the show starts, but that's no big surprise. However, once the show starts... they don't stop. At every opportunity, they're talking rudely while the performers are on stage. What's worse, with the house lights down, about a dozen glowing phone screens can be seen as the little snowflakes start visibly and obviously texting during the performance. When the lone female performer in the cast makes an appearance, some asshole starts catcalling loudly. At one point, they use a live dog in the play, and some live ones up front start whistling to get the dog's attention. Never mind their titters and commentary at the various swear words in the play. They nearly lost it when they heard the word "nigger" in casual context as it was used in the book. All in all, it was a train wreck.

To their credit, the performers were consummate professionals, despite being just beginning college students. They never got distracted by their antics. And to be fair to the students, the shenanigans were probably limited to about 20% of them. Still, the best moment came after the performance. The director and actors came out after the play for a Question/Answer session (which the darlings couldn't stay quiet for). One question asked (by my mentor teacher, of course) was "How do you get into character?" One guy explained that he tied his hand into a fist for two days to simulate having no hand like his character. Another said something similar. But the guy playing Lennie, the mentally challenged main character, had the best zinger. He said, "Well, I went to a high school and hung out with ninth graders for a few weeks." The joke was lost on a large portion of the students, but the other chaperones and I sure got a good laugh.

* * *

Second, The "Teenagers Are Going to Kill Me" Story:

The very next day, I got a whole different side of ninth grade insanity. For the last two days, my classes have been working on their practice PSSA writing tests. The official ones aren't until their 11th grade year, but they have to do them every year as practice. Well, one gentleman in my inclusion class (the one previously described here on this blog) took exception to this demand. Not only does he repeatedly complain and refuse to do it, but he won't stop playing with his desk - tipping it back and forth, lifting it with his knees, etc. The learning support teacher and I both give him grief several times, and near the end of the period, I overhear this zinger: "I'm gong to burn this whole school to the ground."

Now, they cover this shit pretty heavily in education classes. I can't take stuff like that lightly, but I can tell that he's not being entirely serious. He's in a bad mood and pushing buttons. Still, I very sternly say, "Hey! You know better than to say stuff like that. Do it again and I have no choice but to call you on it." He denies ever saying it and goes back to fucking around.

Then a few minutes later, another student, a wild character in his own right, starts making fun of Captain Verbal Threat. So our angry man hisses quietly, "I'm going to bring in a gun and shoot you." The other student doesn't hear, but I do. I try to give him hell, but the bell rings. My mentor teacher, who had to run errands at the end of class, returns, and I tell her immediately about what happened. She tells me that we have to tell the counselors as soon as school is over.

Now, I don't think for a minute that this kid is going to come in to burn down the school or shoot up the place. The dude has anger issues, but he's just not that committed. But I have to cover my own ass. Suppose the lunatic does come in to light the school on fire. I can't take that chance. So my mentor teacher and I go to the counselors' office as soon as school ends, but the counselor isn't there. The secretary, in fact, berates me for not coming to the counselor as soon as it happened. Never mind that I had another class to teach. My mentor teacher is none too pleased that we've been insulted and belittled in this instance, so we go to the assistant principal, who is much more receptive. He tells me that he'll handle it immediately, and he thinks I acted appropriately.

That hasn't stopped me from beating myself up over the incident.
"Should I have called the office immediately?"
"Should I have sent him to the office after the first threat?"
"Is my classroom discipline to blame for him even making the threat in the first place?"
"Did I overreact?"
These questions kept circling in my mind no matter how many other teachers and student teachers told me that I did the right thing.

* * *

These two stories really encapsulate two days when I was exposed to 14-year-old teenagers rather than just ninth-graders. These were adolescents acting like themselves, not acting in their roles as students. Most of them are ridiculously simple-minded but generally descent half-adults, I suppose. But I've suddenly got a long, scintillating taste of just how crazy these pubescent bags of mostly-hormones can be.

Though I will admit, they do provide a regular source of blog material.... at least when I muster enough wherewithal to actually post.

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"Teenagers scare the living shit outta me,
They could care less as long as someone will bleed.
So darken your clothes, or strike a violent pose,
Maybe they'll leave you alone, but not me."