And then there are days...

I was pulled out of my collab Algebra class in order to last-minute sub in the Behavior-Disorder classroom for one block. The BD teacher and I are very close friends and I love her to pieces; both of her daughters were home sick today.

They don't pay her enough to do that job.

The highlight of the class period? Besides the time I physically wrestled one of them to his seat and took the teacher's notes out of his hands, that is. No, the highlight of the class period was this:

Shut the fuck up, bitch. You look more like an Oompa-Loompa than Mrs. K does.

Actually, I like most of her boys, even though they're BD kids, and I get along with them pretty well (even though it doesn't sound like it; they just communicate, um, differently). Today, however, being in their class for one block just wore me clean out. My last class of the day didn't get much from me today, because by that time my brain was pure Jell-O.

In the midst of it, I think I was actually successful making a connection with the worst one of the bunch. They were impressed by my tattoo, and this one read it out loud. "LOVE THE LORD YOUR GOD WITH ALL YOUR HEART. You're a Christian?" he said.

"Yes."

"What church do you go to?" he asked, his voice changing noticeably. I told him, and he said, "Do you know where Sunshine Open Bible Church is?"

"Yes, I do. Isn't it by the freeway over by Hubbell?"

"Yeah, that's it. That's where I go."

And he was a different boy for the rest of the class. This young man probably belongs in a lockup institution; he is a true basket-case in every sense of the phrase. But I now have one teeny connection with him, and maybe it'll make a difference the next time I have to sub in that classroom.