Friday, October 31, 2014

Elementary school bathrooms are my own personal hell.

Elementary school bathrooms are my own personal hell.

Not because they are always stuffy, and too hot. Not because the toilets are roughly half the size of a normal toilet and make you feel like an awkward giant. Not even because they always smell like pee, and always have a clogged toilet. No, until you have run a bathroom break for an entire second grade class, you have no idea how much your own personal hell can be elevated.

The many games of “will it flush?,” countless clogged pipes, and one small trash can fire will all live on as outer rings of my own personal hell. Yes, one of my second graders set a trashcan fire in the bathroom. No, it was not the worst elementary bathroom experience of my life. No, that accolade is reserved for what what I would like to call my most personally and professionally humiliating moment - but we all know this is only scratching the surface there.

Wrangling nineteen second graders to the bathroom is not an easy task when they lack any and all respect for you. How or why we got to said lack of respect is irrelevant, but the point is there was nothing I dreaded more than taking my class into the hallways. This task was complicated further by one of my favorite students, a special needs student who required near constant support. This bathroom break wasn’t going any better or worse than any other bathroom break. I had taken them to the bathrooms by the office, in hopes that proximity to the principals office would cast a pallor of decorum. In the end, as the one who ended up getting reprimanded, I can say it was a complete failure of a plan.

It’s the waiting for other classmates to use the restroom that really gets them going. When everyone has to go, no one wants to wait until last and there is a modicum of good behavior. Waiting for everyone else once you have had your turn though? That’s when kids get really squirrely. I had a class full of runners - the type to bolt. Especially given an open hallway. Naturally a pack of my boys started running around, including Akim, this favorite of mine. Knowing this was going nowhere good and fast, I made an effort to speed the last few stragglers through the bathroom. While pacing the increasingly loud hallway, making some semblance at giving directions that would be followed, I see Akim come running down the hallway, holding something out in his open palm.

It was a urinal cake. He was holding a used urinal cake. He skidded to an abrupt stop in front of me to ask what it was. I’m not sure whether it was the overwhelming nature of the shock, dread, and disgust or what that led me to tell him it was a urinal cake.

“Cake?” he asked as drew the urine soaked mint green round closer to his open mouth, as if to take a bite.

“NO. no, not that kind of cake.” I said as I put my open palm out, realizing I would be forced to take it from him. Upon realizing it was not a Little Debbie snack Akim dropped it right away and took off running. The rest of the class, oblivious to exchange had now grown to a dull roar and drawn the attentions of the principal, who was now standing in the hallway behind me, wearing his 3 piece denim suit in all its bellbottomed glory. Turning to face Mr.Taylor, urinal cake still in hand, and look of revulsion still on my face, I realized this wasn’t going to make things better.

“Miss Holdreith, you really need to get your class under control. I think its time you take them back to the room now.”
Back to class I went, urinal cake STILL in hand, no more quietly or orderly than we had arrived.

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