Those of you who have read this blog for a long time know I work with troubled, teen boys as a teachers aide.  Sometimes I also work with the same boys as a " chemical dependance technician."   Which is really a glorified way of saying babysitter for bad boys. 
This summer only a select few got to work for the school, and Safeway, the facility I work for, only gave me 5 days of work in one month.  I am relatively sure the reason I was not chosen as a select teacher's aide is because of the jerk teacher I work with. 

So as uncharacteristic as it is, I was resourceful and found another teacher's aide position at the high school.  Unfortunately, and very characteristically, this gig only lasts until July1st.

The position at the high school has been a welcome change from the bad boys and my coworkers at Safeway. 
I am working with the incoming freshman, as part of the enrichment program.  This is  fancy wording for summer school for lower functioning kids.  In one of the groups there is a teacher and two teacher's aides because three of the kids are special needs. One of the kids, I'll call him Andrew, because that's his name, is so delightful.  Now delightful is not a word I usually use, and would probably make fun of that word if someone else used it, but it really applies here. 

Normally, I have to say, special needs kids are not my forte.  I  think it's a gift some people have, and I'm not sure I have it, which is why it's good the three kids have their own aide who is great. 

Andrew just makes me laugh though, I am starting to really get attached to this kid.  I first noticed him when we, as in they, played dodge ball.  Andrew had no idea how to play.  He walked around oblivious to the balls that were coming at him.  He didn't try and duck, he didn't throw any back, he just walked around with his arms flailing and had the best time.  The funny part was he never got hit.  He even turned his back to the ball, and still it went sailing by.  Like I said, he didn't know how to play, but he had the best time. 

Andrew wears the same thing everyday.  A red Tee shirt, shorts, white knee socks, and gym shoes.  His aide suggested to him that he might ask mom to mix it up a bit, and wear something else, but we're on week three and he still shows up in the same clothes. 

Today I said " Andrew, I thought Miss Kelly told you to wear something else sometimes"  He said, "  I'm not talking to you because I am getting a tetanus shot today"  Well, he told me I guess.

Today in speech the kids had to do  demonstration speeches.  They pretty much sucked, but Andrew decided to give them all high ratings.  He was not told to rate the kids, but he really felt compelled.  He listened quietly then he would say something like  " your a star ___  I give you a 12."    Although, he didn't say whether it was 12 out of 12 or 12 out of 40, his enthusiasm told us it was good. 
One kid seemed hurt that he only got a 3, but then Andrew changed it to a 14, so it was all good.

The staff there does not allow disrespect, and I am treated with respect and as a professional, which is weird and new for me.   They also call me Mrs. Expunge, not Miss Laura.  I really think that makes a difference too, and may have the bad boys start calling me Mrs. E. 

I am dreading July and working for Safeway, even though he at least gave me more than five days.  I am also thinking of writing the teacher a letter, before school starts, although that could backfire on me.

I am turning 48 on Monday and I think I'll bring the kids donuts, even though I can't have any. 

In other news, my grandmothers funeral was very nice, and after a couple xanax I spoke.  I can't remember what I said, but I was told I did a good job, so I'm glad I could honor her.

Yesterday was one more reminder why I am glad to be done with the public school system. 

Let me draw you a picture.

I walk into the school.  I have walked in the school a million times, for six straight years, where my face, if not my name, is well known.

I wanted to buy a DVD of the senior sleep over since I missed the hypnotist.

There is a sign that says PLEASE ENTER THROUGH THE MAIN OFFICE.  I walk in and walk up to desk one.  Secretary who knows me is sitting at the desk.  I tell her I need to pay for a senior night dvd.  She tells me in a gruff tone that she needs to see an ID and that I need to fill out the name sticker.  I say " wow, I didn't expect that."  I dig through my purse and wallet and look for my never used licence.  I scribble my name on the tag, and the date, and time, my mothers maiden name, my social security number, the date I said my first word, the names of my last three pets, and the make of my dads first car. 

She says " Well, I don't know anything about DVDs you need to talk to Peggy."  Peggy's desk is two feet away.

 I understand the big security issue now.  I might turn into someone else in the half a second it takes me to walk to Peggy's desk.  I might make a run for it and put bubbles in the pool.  Who knows what I might do, and it's very important they have all my information.  Even though they could just tell the cops " it was Mrs. Exspunge", now there would be actual proof, although the proof would be on my name tag, which is right above my right breast.

But who am I to question?  I am sure someone, somewhere, knows why I have to wear a name tag to step to a desk that is in the same room as where I filled out the name tag.  I just need to find them.

I step over to Peggy's desk and explain why I'm there.  Peggy tells me the forms are next to original secretary's desk.

I step back to desk one and fill out the form and write a check for $12.99.  I step back to Peggy's desk, hand her the form and the check.  She writes me a receipt.

I step out of the school and know that next year, with my kids long gone, Jennie in Africa, Matt in Indiana,  I'll probably look for excuses to walk into that damn school.

But the great part is, I don't HAVE to.

I have moved on to college red tape and paper work.

Ain't education great?