The Great Orange Incident of 2019
Another Tale of Cacophonous Calamity in the Classroom
There have been very few moments in life when you want to sacrifice everything for the sake of kicking ass. When I say giving up everything I mean career, getting possible jail time, entering lawsuits, and of course, gaining infamy on the infinity of the internet for losing your cool. I was face to face with one of these moments less than a year ago.
It was the last 3 minutes of first block. These last few minutes of class seem to be the window for chaos in classrooms. The hard-working students sat focused on their assignments. Laptops were open, the soft clicking sound of keystrokes filled the room, and the students were desperate to finish their assignments before the bell rang. Many of the students ate while they worked feverishly watching the clock. Pringles, Sour Cream and Onion Lays, Hot Cheetos, Cheez-Its, cinnamon rolls, and fruits were strewn across the room on the desks of teenagers. Attempting to have a comfortable working environment, my co-teacher and I allowed the students to snack while they worked. It seemed harmless at the moment.
“If you give a kid a snack, they’ll want some water to go with it”
Ironically, today was the first day we allowed students to go get snacks to eat in class. There was a resource for students who may have missed breakfast. Sounds like a wonderful opportunity for kids right?
I honestly felt like stopping class and allowing the students to shop for food was a distraction from instruction. Also as a side effect, you have to deal with the sticky, ooey-gooey, crumbly, cheese dust-filled cleanup at the end of class. It always follows the “If you give a kid a snack, they’ll want some water to go with it” mold as well. So then children are asking to get water, go to vending machines, or asking to wash hands throughout the class. It creates constant disruptions that kill learning in the classroom.
There was a knock at the door during this blissful learning hub and my co-teacher went to answer it. Another teacher wanted to speak with him so he tiptoed out of the room. I glanced at my far-too-intelligent watch and saw there were two minutes left before the bell.
“Okay guys, we have two minutes left. Submit whatever you have and put your laptops away. Don’t gather at the door. Wait for the bell at your seats,” I said in a soft voice.
Indeed the apocalypse of my teaching career began to rise.
In unison, after about 20 seconds, laptops began to snap shut and students put their laptops in the charging cart following directions. A girl approached me at the front of the room in a panic.
“I don’t know how to submit. We only have a minute left. What do I do?” she said about to cry.
“I’ll show you. Click here on the assignment,” I pointed to her screen to walk her through the submission process. “It’s alright you have time,” I said consoling her. “Now click open,” she clicked it, “And now click submi — ”
Mid instructional word something collided into my face. My Jimmy Choo glasses were gone, sliding across the tile floor. As my eyes shabbily focused on my glasses, I see an orange rolling away from my body. I looked up into the blurred faces of a group of four boys. They stood there with their arms in the air as if being arrested, mouths open, and eyes wide as if they’ve just witnessed the beginning of the apocalypse.
Indeed the apocalypse of my teaching career began to rise. Through my fuzzy astigmatism, my world began to shift.
I had a decision to make. The following thoughts took place within milliseconds. My instincts took over immediately and my first reaction was to react physically. What was left of my sanity at the moment asked me a question: Do you want to end up on World Star Hip Hop? Yes, this literal thought came to my mind. A physical reaction would lead to students recording me and posting whatever my instincts told me to do out of anger, pain, and self-defense.
My humanity was being tested.
Another thought then came to me: Leave. I need to distance myself from these children. If I leave the room, I can gather myself.
However, this was a moment that would define what I was willing to take and tolerate in my workplace. World Star Hip Hop would be reasonable in this situation. I had been assaulted. If I put this on an application for why I left, it will be understandable. But, this is my job. I need money to sustain my life.
My humanity was being tested. Do I make the barbaric choice or the mature sane choice? That was the question.
I picked up my glasses off the floor and went to the door. My co-teacher was in deep discussion with the other teacher from down the hall.
I poked my head out and said in a polite voice, “Excuse me, but I just got in the face with a fucking orange. Could you come in?”
“What?” he said with an instant wrinkled brow.
He stormed in the class just as the bell rang. “No one move,” he said as I exited the room.
I went upstairs to the teacher’s lounge and entered the restroom. I looked in the mirror. What the hell am I doing here? My face began to throb from the impact. As the pain spread and tapped into that intricate migraine catalyst, I made a decision: I’m going home.
My outlook has completely changed in my profession.
I went to the first assistant principal I could find, told them of the incident, and left. By the time I arrived home my face felt like the Grand Canyon was being forged across my forehead down to my nose. Did I mention I am a sufferer of vertigo? Perfect timing right. As I crawled into bed the room was spinning. I closed my eyes and went to sleep.
Needless to say, I took the next week off. I had some soul searching to do. The culprit was apprehended but it did not change the humiliation and pain from the blow. After battling a week of migraines and vertigo in the aftermath, I finally came to my conclusion.
Homelessness wasn’t an option for me so I kept my day job. The culprit’s schedule was changed and the school year drummed on as intended.
My outlook has completely changed in my profession. There’s so much more at risk when walking into schools these days. Fruit is a danger, ending up on the internet is always looming, and of course, children wanting to seek mass revenge for unknown reasons is a constant thought in the backs of our minds.
At the end of the day, I’m glad I kept my job. Additionally, I’m proud I chose not to end up on World Star Hip Hop, going broke, going to jail, or being sued for attacking children. I exhibited self-control in a capacity that I didn’t even know was possible. Also, I believe it goes without saying that I haven’t eaten an orange since “The Great Orange Incident of 2019.”
