Brave Captain - fIREHOSE

So I've been debating on whether or not I should write about the teacher I work with, but recently I've realized that maybe I should document what's been going on in case she offs herself. This would clear me of all charges of murder. Which is good because I am about to murder her.

So for safety's sake, let us call this woman Kiddo. Kiddo started working with me in April of last year. She is a young woman, a year older than me. Like me, this was her first real job out of college. Like me, she'd never been a teacher before. In fact, it seemed like we had a lot in common at first and that we would hit it off quite well.

I was wrong.

The first semester went well. I helped her ease into the rhythm of daily school life. She was eager to get started. Frankly, after spending the last year running things I was more than willing to let someone else take the reins. I gave her the go ahead and figured the transition would go smoothly and I'd have a little more free time.

Things were fine for a while. She had great ideas. She wasn't too sure about discipline in the class room but I wasn't too concerned with it-in retrospect, a mistake-but overall I was really enjoying my now not-so-heavy workload and having someone to actually share ideas with. It wasn't until the start of the second semester that things started going wrong. I'm not even sure if I would say "go wrong" at that point, but it was the first time I noticed some...peculiarities in Kiddo's behavior.

The first sign was the haircut. Kiddo had shoulder length naturally colored hair when she began teaching. After some weekend in the summer, Kiddo came back with short, dyed hair. Pixie short. That terrible orange-blonde color Japanese people seem to love. It was...interesting.

Of course everyone made a big deal about it. It was a drastic change. Many people asked her if something had happened recently. Her answer was that no, nothing had changed and she was just hot having all that hair before. Sure thing, Kiddo. I didn't buy it and neither did anyone else. Things were pretty much normal for a while after that, but then her behavior started changing.

The first major thing I noticed was her lack of communication with me. I sit next to this woman in the staff room. I share 21 classes a week with this woman. My whole school life revolves around having a good relationship with this woman. And she wasn't talking to me. Or anyone else. She started having "shutdown" days. Days where she would speak as little as possible and make eye contact with as few people as possible. In class she was still doing a great job, but outside of class it was another world entirely. A little strange, but still professional enough to not be a problem.

This slowly changed into an even worse phase where she would randomly ask me questions concerning relationships and sex. Completely innapropriate topics for discussion among co-workers. A lot of hypothetical situations involving a boy and a girl breaking up, or fighting, etc. It was clear to me that she was having some kind of relationship problems. I'll keep it short but I think it can best be summed up in this scene which really did happen:

---------
Scene: Another day. No words have been exchanged between us in a week and a half save the daily "Good morning!" and "See you tomorrow"s. Kiddo and I are eating our respective lunches at our desks in slience.


Kiddo pauses in mid-chew. She sets down her chopsticks and swallows.


Kiddo turns her head towards me.


"Would you have sex with someone even if you didn't love them?"
---------


The story gets more interesting when one week an in-service meeting and demonstration lesson comes up. All the English teachers in the city have to participate and so our Vice Principal gives her a roster with all the names on it. Well, I ask if I can see the sheet. Her reaction is to snarl at me "NO! NO! YOU CAN'T SEE IT!" She then proceeds to claw at the sheet in panic and stuffs it into her desk drawer. She runs out of the room. She later declines participation in the in-service and so neither of us get to go.

At some point, she taught her favorite students how to say "fuck you" in English. Trouble-making girls that hate me. There were two problems with this. The first problem I had was that she didn't even give an appropriate translation. She told them that the equivalent meaning in Japanese could roughly be translated to "annoying" depending on context. I've heard teachers use the Japanese expression on their students to their faces. Hardly an innapropriate word for school. The second problem I had was her denying she ever taught them the word. Of course the girls immediately tried out this new phrase on the only native English speaker they know, me. And they did it in front of Kiddo. Kiddo told them to stop saying that and that it was rude. The students response: "But you just told us how to say it. Why can't we say it? You just taught us it!" She denied everything.

I could go on with stories like this for days but this post is getting long and I have some daily show clips to watch.

I think I can best sum it all up in one sentence. Three words. Succinct.
"I hate children."

And she's a teacher. Certified, or certifiable?

-----------------

I thought I'd at least share some nice links at the end of this long, disheartening rant. So here is some awesome stuff to enjoy. I have some music videos you should see. I'd say that both of them are great representatives of two easily identifiable time periods in American culture.

The first one is from a band called Fiasco from New York. Thanks to Marc for telling me about this one. Porno-comedy at it's finest. This video is NOT work-safe. It contains nudity. And lots of it. It's pretty hilarious to watch that lady do the things with her jugs.

The second video is from the awesome French dude who makes up Les Rhythmes Digitales on Astralwerks. Straight work-safe, and straight 80's awesomeness.

Finally, I leave you with this image.