does not necessarily guarantee a response if a security person is not nearby. Most of the panic buttons installed in classrooms were disabled soon after being installed because students played with them, calling in false alarms every time a teacher’s back was turned.
Administration requires detailed documentation of any altercation involving students before they will considerer imposing severe penalties for inappropriate behavior. Filling out paperwork usually interferes with instruction time and requires overtime. All overtime is scrutinized by the Payroll Department and requires advanced supervisory approval before submission. Many serious problems go unaccounted for because of the hassle associated with working overtime, thus many difficult students are inadvertently allowed to continue misbehaving indefinitely.
There is never enough support staff to install new equipment and fix existing problems. Help desk personnel are always overwhelmed by calls and problem tickets. Every year funding for additional technicians is requested but predictably those extra positions are cut from the approved budget by the school board in favor of hiring more instructional staff.
Building phones, copiers and computers don’t always operate properly. Most teachers are happy if their desktop computer just turns on in the morning so they are able to submit their daily attendance information.
In-house clock and bell systems are broken. They are obsolete and began acting erratic or stopped working altogether in many parts of the building over five years ago, soon after the local company that the district used to award the annual service contract to went out of business.
The uncertainty of time makes it difficult to begin and end classes because no one is really sure when period shifts occur. Teachers are obligated to look at their watches or cell phones as much as the students do.
How Kwinton Got Into ISS
It took Kwinton until the end of seventh period to finally get himself assigned to in-school suspension (ISS). A building director, Mr. Reilley, saw him dart of out of earth science before the end of the period. Reilley told Jones to “Stop and take off your hat.” Two-Tun told the salt and pepper bearded man to “Kiss my fat Black ass you bald headed cocksucker!”
Security was called and the teen spent the rest of the day sitting in the main office waiting for his great-grandmother to come pick him up and talk to the Principal about his inappropriate behavior.
Kwinton didn’t care. His Nanny was nearly deaf and almost completely senile. Based on my interactions with her she’d be more pissed at the Principal for making her inconvenience one of her sons to drive her to the school and missing Trisha Goddard or Maury Povich on TV than at her grandchild.
According to the paperwork Mr. Reilley submitted, Kwinton was given three days of in-school suspension for cursing, leaving class early without a pass and defying authority. Two-Tun was not the least bit bothered by the punishment because to him it was a much better way to spend a day than attending any of his classes.
The Woo Gang
The Woo Gang is more an informal, loosely knit fraternity of neighborhood teens than an actual gang. It essentially functions like a minor league recruiting team for big league scouts.
I’ve worked with numerous students who were members or had family that associated regularly with the organization.
Woo followers are bound to what they refer to as the “three f’s.” All are synonymous for fun: fighting, fucking and food.
Members are more into fist fighting boys from other parts of the city, smoking marijuana and hosting drunken house parties than committing hard core crimes. Most know better than to overstep established boundaries without the blessing of someone more powerful. Several of their headstrong brothers have been murdered in drive-bys or executed at point blank range over the years by local affiliates of the Folk Nation and Latin Kings for selling drugs and pimping girls independently.
In-School Suspension
In-school suspension (ISS) at West Side High School is like The Breakfast Club on steroids. ISS staff needs to check all mainstream or “professional” conduct, such as not cursing and common courtesy, at the door, before entering the room. Quick thinking and thick skin are much handier.
The majority of kids that receive the sentence of ISS are pupils who are pathologically disrespectful, liars, opposition-ally defiant, habitual class skippers, and have major issues with anger management, self-control, authority and following instructions. They are often repeat offenders, very upset about getting punished, portray themselves as victims and feel absolutely no remorse for their long lists of transgressions.
Inner city ISS classrooms are the education system’s version of jail time without the iron bars, locks or consequences for not complying with established rules. They operate like Stalag 13 from the TV show Hogan’s Heroes and sound a lot like Cheech and Chong’s classic “Sister Mary Elephant” skit.
ISS teachers, aids and teaching assistants are frequently referred to as ‘zookeepers’ by administrators and core subject teachers (behind their backs). No one in their right mind wants the job. There is a high turnover rate for ISS related positions.
Occasionally though, the stars do actually align. Retired prison guards and marine drill sergeants often excel and thrive in those kinds of jobs for their second careers.
Every week or so all hallway windows for the ISS classroom are covered with dark paper. The proactive safety measure initially prevents the kids on the inside from looking out and the ones on the outside from looking in. It’s an effective, albeit fleeting, attempt to thwart prospective fights or someone getting hurt in the doorway.
The papering process needs to be repeated regularly.
Audacious individuals from the random clusters of students, who roam the halls of school like herds of migrating animals, often pause a moment when passing by the ISS Room. They shout profanities and pound on the walls, doors and windows. It’s not unusual to be startled by the click of someone hastily testing if the doorknob is locked; a loud; “BANG!” on the window; and a “LET ME IN ASSHOLE! I GOT SENT TO ISS BY MY TEACHER!”, “FREE (insert student name here)!” or “OPEN FUCKING THE DOOR SO I CAN SEE WHO’S IN THERE!” This happens at least two or three times an hour.
Predictably several juveniles in the room are roused by the clamor and feel compelled to see who made the noise. They instantly drop everything they are doing, get up, go to the door peephole or window, then tear or scratch at the treatments, leaving little openings in the covering that grow larger as the school week progresses. By Friday, classroom windows are usually in shambles or completely bare. Teachers must then re-paper those spaces first thing Monday morning before all the kids assigned to ISS show up for the day.
The door to ISS has to be locked on the outside for the very same reason. Otherwise unassigned students will deliberately enter the room during or between classes and stay. Unfortunately, the door cannot be locked from the inside, so the approach does not prevent individuals consigned to the ISS room from opening the door, leaving or letting others in.
During hall sweeps (times when teachers are officially ordered to sequester their classrooms so that any students remaining in the halls can be interrogated and disciplined for not being in class), the meandering ‘hordes of the hallway’ quickly transform into fast moving packs of raving zombies. Clusters of kids become frenzied by the people patrolling for class skippers.
The ISS Room is one destination many of the broken throngs predictably head for during hall sweeps, hoping to gain entry and become lost in that crowd. The inventive tactic only works for the first few weeks of school when student schedules are still being worked out or on new ISS teachers who are naïve and believe that most students at our school are completely honest about their intentions and there to learn.
To sustain the illusion that ISS room is an academic environment, daily schedules are created for building principal filing cabinets. Homework is also requested first thing every morning for consigned
students.
Core subject teachers are often very reluctant to provide requested work until the building principal demands they send instructional materials to ISS. It’s a well-established fact that nearly half the kids assigned to ISS don’t show up.
Sending lesson work is usually a waste of time for everyone involved. Even when students do show up they usually chose to socialize, color, do puzzles and nap, outright refusing to complete anything academic provided to them.
The Second Day of School
Kwinton showed up for ISS sometime towards the end of third period. Video recordings from several building cameras confirm that he was on school property a little after 9:00AM.
I suspect that Two-Tun had been out late the previous night with some fellow gang members and forgot to set his morning alarm. When I met with him a few weeks later, he told me that that he woke up at 6:55AM that day and only noticed the time because his Aunt Tess was yelling at her pet cat Snookiedoodles outside his bedroom door.
Snookie puked in the dark hallway and she stepped on the pile of hurl in her bare feet on the way to the bathroom.
After realizing he was running late, Mr. Jones quickly threw on one of his many pairs of designer Nike sneakers, extra-large tan painter pants and a school issued