Duty

When I taught in Cy-Fair, I had the luxury of monitoring the stairwell during one five minute passing period each day. Never again in my lifetime will I complain about stairwell duty. Okay, never...unless I actually have to do it again. I say this because "duty" takes on an entirely new meaning when teaching in my current school district. Here, I have lunch duty once a week as well as morning and after school duty for one week each month.

Lunch duty involves one other teacher and myself monitoring our entire sixth grade population. This would be doable if we had weapons, but we don't. Instead, we have a microphone...in the event that we need to make an announcement or sing a Sunday morning solo. It's a very effective tool.

Yesterday, my lunch duty partner thought it might be a good idea to sing "Happy Birthday" to one of our sixth grade students. I'm not sure when this became part of the routine, but let's just say it was a short-lived tradition.

I was standing near the lunch line when, without warning, her plan echoed through the aforementioned microphone. Immediately, the world around me began to move in slow motion. I don't think the words ever left my mouth, but every ounce of my being began to lunge forward in a frantic and dramatic, "NOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Of course, my instincts were right because just as she burst forth in song, the kids burst forth in an aerial food raid.

Chaos ensued, and I was nearly pummeled by a nugget as I attempted to put a stop to the madness. The microphone was out of my reach leaving me completely unarmed, and I could do little more than head to the front lines in an effort to gain control of the situation. I still don't know why...no one can really explain sixth graders, but the fighting stopped almost as quickly as it began. Fortunately our school only serves food that holds fast to its form, so the damage to the cafeteria was minimal. I also managed to escape unscathed...which is really all that matters.

My morning and afternoon duty stations also tend to provide me with a great deal of entertainment...and frostbite. Because my administrators like to punish the foreigners (that would be me), I was assigned to parking lot /baseball field duty...sort of like an initiation. For fifteen minutes before school and fifteen minutes after school, I get to stand outside in temperatures as low as forty-seven below zero. In case you think I'm kidding, this is my duty station...


And yes, that is fresh snow on the ground. You can see the high volume of foot traffic and the obvious need for my presence. Indeed, I offer a valuable service to our school community. Actually, yesterday did present an opportunity for me to flex my baseball field monitor muscles. Just as I was wrapping up a phone conversation with my mom (I use my time on duty to make others aware of my miserable condition), a "fight" erupted. Apparently, yesterday was Rocky Theme Day at my school.

I watched as one of my former students shoved another kid from behind. It is hardly unusual to see two middle school boys assaulting one another, so I didn't think much of it at first. When the backpack came off though and a second punch was thrown, I knew it was the real deal. I ran down the hill and was already on the scene before I realized that I didn't have my microphone. Nevertheless, my presence alone was enough to end the scuffle, and another grueling day of duty came to an end.

Lest you think the fight was without cause, I learned as I escorted the young Caucasian offender back to the school...His punch was justified because the other skinny white boy had called him the "n" word. I'm still not sure what to do with that.