Ahhh, how I changed

I have a degree in Early Childhood Education, and after I graudated from Ouachita Baptist University in Dec. 1999, I took a job as a long term sub for a 3rd grade class. During this time, there was a tornado, and my class spent over an hour snuggled up together under the coat rack. After the tornado had passed but before the all clear bell rang, one of my favorite students began to cry because she had to go to the bathroom so badly. I asked one of the other teachers who said that she could not leave the classroom under any circumstance until the principal gave the all clear. So I came up with an ingenious solution...I let her pee in a trash can in a corner of the classroom.

Yes, folks, you read that right. I let an 8 year old pee in a trash can in my classroom.

And of course, after that, like half the class had to pee, so they took turns peeing in the trash can. Then I tied up the bag and let one of the other students carry it to the bathroom to dispose of it. And I saw nothing wrong with it at all. Even when the principal called me in to ask me about it after a mother called to HER ask about it, I was like, "umm, yeah. I thought it was a good solution." Now, I'm HORRIFIED that I did that. I thought the principal was going to have a stroke, or possibly cause one in me, but she actually let me keep my job and I'm SURE the rest of the staff still laughs about the long term sub who let the kids pee in the trash can.

Fast forward two years.

After Joel & I got married, we moved to New Orleans, a 3rd world city in a 1st world country. The years I was there, the New Orleans Public School system was the SECOND WORST SCHOOL DISTRICT IN THE NATION, and my school was NINTH from the bottom within that system. It was rough to say the least.

After a disastrous first year, one in which I'm certain my students only learned anything because I prayed so diligently for them, I came back the second year fully committed to the "Don't Smile Till Christmas" school of thought.

The first day of school, that second year, those 14 precious 2nd graders were terrified of this white woman standing in front of them; I've never been so mean in my entire life.

At 1:45 I took my entire class to the bathroom, and 15 minutes after we got back, Jonathan raised his hand and asked to go back.

NO. I told him. You went in the bathroom 15 minutes ago, if you have to go again, you can wait until after school.

I really gotta go! says small troublemaker.

NO. I was firm. I wasn't tolerating nuttin' from these kids today. Then he starts rocking his desk and forth in protest, annoying the fool out of me. So I promptly move him to a desk in the back of the classroom and finish instilling terror in the rest of the class.

10 minutes before school is out, precious, precious Melanie raises her little hand and says, "Mrs. Turner, I think Jonathan wet hisself."

The entire class turns around to find Jonathan sitting in his desk, sopping wet from the waist down with a puddle of pee on the floor at his feet, and this smug look on his face that say, "I told you so."

I had a decision to make. Would I show weakness and lose all the fear I had earned that day, or would Jonathan suffer so that the whole class would know that you don't play Mrs. Turner for a fool and go into the bathroom at break time and not use it?

I let that boy sit in his own urine for 15 minutes before I dismissed him to go to the bathroom and change clothes. Then I psyched myself up to call his grandmother and tell her what had happened. And you know what, that woman was on MY side. She was proud of this white girl for standing my ground, and she wore that child out when he got home. And the next day?

He was my best student. :)

I LOVED that class. 14 kids, and the trouble maker tamed on the first day. It was pure bliss. Every day I wen to school, read the newspaper and thought, this is the life.

And then 10 weeks into the school year, we didn't have enough students to keep all of our teachers, so I had to move to a 3rd grade class of 23 students with multiple trouble makers and nobody who was afraid of the white girl. :(

But I learned a LOT that year. Not sure I learned enough to make me glad for the change, but enough to make me a better person, I'm sure. It's just, sometimes, who really cares about being a better person, right?