Thursday, January 28, 2010
The day was looking so promising. I was feeling better than yesterday and my lessons were moving smoothy as I could ever wish. My 3rd period class, a 2nd grade bunch were working silently, almost in perfect meditation on patterned designs at their seats. I suddenly notice a student in the front row is up out of his seat with a blank look of fright in his eyes, his cheeks begin to puff out and he stops it short with his fist but the wreckage is coming and quick. I tell him to head to the door for the garbage, but he is at this point standing dumb and I am hesitant to approach him for fear of what is to come. It seems to be a moment suspended in the air, hanging for an unordinary amount of time, choices are flipping through my mind of grabbing him and running to the door, of running to get the garbage can, of running out of the classroom. Then what is expected comes but it comes rather ackwardly and almost surprisingly even. Barf shoots in streams out between the dam of his fingers spraying in lines in all directions including towards himself. We are all struck dumb and motionless as this happens, barf everywhere and inescapable..barf. When its over, I tell the boy to leave the room and he hesitates a bit, so I repeat for him to go to the office. In shock he walks through the barf and across the rug on the floor marking his trail with footprints as he goes. The custodian takes forever to come and the stench is reaching new levels of foulness that we are forced to evacuate the room and what was once a peaceful art making experience ends in disharmony and discord.