"I didn't mean to hurt anyone!"

The dangers of violent + permissive culture

Good afternoon to my US friends and laila tov to my Israeli friends,

I hope that you had a meaningful fast, if you celebrated. I join you in being horrified but not shocked by the barbaric violent act in Manchester. I’m praying for the safety of my Jewish friends. I suspect that many of you are afraid to attend services. New York is not safe and is likely to become less safe as a friend of jihad is about to be elected mayor. I have some thoughts for him on his plan to get rid of gifted programs for New York kindergarten students, and on his opposition to charter schools. I’ll share those later, when I have more time.

I just got home from a day of substitute teaching. I only do two to three days a week now, as I have other very meaningful work (thank you other work!) and the stress plus danger of being in the public schools is too much to do five days a week. It just about killed me last year, and I did not make it this far to die young.

Today was okay - I subbed at the school where I taught full time last year, and got to see some of the kids I knew from last year. They were sweet and happy to see me. It’s much easier when you’re just dropping in for a day.

On the bus home, I sat in front of some kids I know. They are sweet girls and said hello to me.

But near the end of the bus ride, they were roughhousing with something that may have been an iPad or a book - I’m not sure, I didn’t get a good look at it. The only reason it came to my notice is that its corner hit me in the head, hard enough to hurt a lot and leave a bruise.

“I’m sorry Ms. Smith!” one of the girls exclaimed. She genuinely was sorry. She did not mean, in any way, to harm me or anyone else. She’s a good kid, usually well-behaved.

“It’s okay,” I said, “But please be careful. I know you and I know you didn’t mean to do it, but if you had hit someone else, it could have turned out very badly.”

I asked them to promise they would be careful, and they did.

My head hurts and I do indeed have a bruise. It’s the kind of thing that in the past might have sent me straight to the bar, but these days I’ll just go about my original plan of getting a manicure and pedicure tonight. At worst I’ll get a mango peach lassi at the little Indian shop down on Baltimore Avenue. If you live in the area, I highly recommend Mood Cafe.

What worries me is not so much what happened to me - I’m used to dodging the dangers of public school teaching and urban transit, and while neither are good for me or sustainable in the long term, I survived another day.

What scares me is the same thing that scared me the day last year when I walked out of my classroom with my handbag because I needed to take some cold medicine, and a girl in my class said, “Bye, bitch,” thinking I was leaving for the last time.

That kind of behavior is normal in urban public schools. Play-fighting, cursing and rough housing is a daily, hourly happening. Kids run through the halls, push each other across the room, hit each other, and say, “You don’t understand, Miss. This is just how we play.”

I do understand that this is how they play. And I explain that it is not appropriate for school.

Worse, if they play like that in public, on the bus or sidewalk or street, and hit the wrong person, they are likely to get more than a “Please be more careful next time.”

These kids see violence every day. All you have to do is ride a bus to see a parent cursing at their child and hitting their child, even tiny ones. Disagreements escalate into violence on a regular basis. The schools don’t crack down on this, and there is little that an individual teacher can do. Schools got into terrible trouble for suspending too many kids, so the disruptive kids just stay and make things so chaotic that no one can learn.

Many times last year I was almost injured by a kid flying across the room when they were play-fighting, or a kid running down the hall at a speed that might win them a place in the Olympics. They didn’t mean to hurt me, but by seventh grade most are bigger than I am. I was genuinely afraid of going to the hospital instead of home to my cat.

Teachers leave, not because we don’t care, but because we realize we can not meaningfully impact the situation and we are afraid for our safety. The kids usually don’t mean to hurt anyone - they really don’t. But they are not taught, either at home or at school, that violent behavior, even when “playing,” is not acceptable.

I pray for the kids I’ve taught. I’m afraid one day they will say the wrong thing to the wrong person, or hit someone who is not quite so understanding by accident.

Today it’s a bruise on the head. I hope it does not get worse.

I just want to make it home safe to this beautiful little girl.