I was a teacher at what most would call an "inner city" school. My city isn't big enough to have that label but it was that kind of school. I was what I thought a "progressive teacher." I didn't believe in worksheets and I didn't believe in making them sit in their desks for 90 minutes. I guess because I was new other teachers would visit me before school started and asked to see my student class list. Then they felt obliged to warn me about this one and that one. Which I thought was asinine. I digress.

95% were in the low socioeconomic population. Tough kids, with tough lives, and hard attitudes. Lot's of gang activity, drugs, and fighting. I would be lying if I said I wasn't a little scared everytime I walked through the door. My stomach would tighten up and I would take a deep, deep breath and it would go away and I would march on.

During my first semester teaching, I had a girl in one of my classes that I thought was adorable. She never acted out, always participated, was a great kid. When I would talk to her she always told me she was crazy. "For real Ms. C." I told her that she didn't seem crazy to me. Then the girl sitting next her said, "oh she's crazy, even her mamma calls her crazy." I asked the girl what made her an expert on the situation and she said,"I know because she's my cousin and she's f**********g crazy!"

Of course I gave the pep talk about negative thinking and listening to what other people say because some people can nust be mean, etc, etc.

I had this class for 3 weeks, just long enough to get to know my kids and become attached. Then one day, without any notice or explanation, I got 3 new classes and the kids were the ones who explained to me what was going on. (Getting a feel for how screwed up this school is and was?) All 3 classes were the same subject, U.S. History. Ok cool. Unprepared and flew by the seat of my pants for a day or two then got my feet under me.

During my planning period I would walk around the school, to get familiar with it and to spy on other teachers. I know weird right? But I wanted to hear how they ran their classes and how they talked to the students. I was shocked and apalled by most, impressed by a few.

One day I was trying to find the quickest route upstairs and to various places I might need to go during planning time. I went a different direction each time. I was headed toward the elevator to go downstairs when I got this funny feeling. My stomach churned and I felt anxious. My mind seemed to scream at me to go through those doors! I had never been through them before as it was just a walk way, a breezeway to the gym which I didn't care about.

I felt really scared and terribly urged to go through those doors, so I started that way. As I got closer everything felt moore urgent so I started sort of trotting, as fast as a fat woman could.

I opened the door and saw my "crazy" kid standing on the wall with her head tilted back, arms wide open and eyes clsosed. She was going to jump and kill herself. I always wore sneakers so she didn't hear me coming, but I ran and grabbed her just as she started leaning forward.

She started screaming, crying, hitting at my head, scratching my arms, kicking me, and trying to pull my hair. I always wore it in a poney tail so she didn't get much but did do some damage. I just held her around the waist as tight as I could. I was stumbling backward with her until my back slammed into a brick wall and I slid down with her. The brick scraped my back up pretty bad. Found blood on my shirt when I got home. Mind you the girl was 85 pounds soaking wet.

I wrapped my arms around hers so she couldn't move them. The I put my legs on top of hers so she couldn't move them. My mouth was right by her ear so I just started softly talking to her as calmly as I could, trying to calm her. I don't remember clearly what all I said except that I loved her and it would hurt your family and me if you ever went away, please stay.

She started to calm down and was just crying a lot. I took a second to get my breath and figure out the next step. Problem was, there was no next step for me for at least an hour. Remember it was my planning period, and all the kids and most of the teachers were in class.

Then I started to feel panic welling up, what the f******k am I going to do!? Could I hold her like that for an hour? Would she fall asleep the I could carry her to help? Luckily for me a kid came slowly jogging around the corner. I didn't know him but as soon as he saw us he came running. "Ms. C, what's wrong?" I said, "I don't know but I need help fast. Please run and find someone to help me, now!"

In about 2 minutes the principal and a cop showed up. I looked up at the cop and said don't you dare hurt her. I was crying, not sobbing, but tears were running. I told him, "no hand cuffs!" He agreed and convinced me to let go of her legs and he secured them gently with zip ties around her jeans. He was very gentle, and did the same with her hands. Then he put several zip ties together and attached one end to he legs an the others to her wrists so she couldn't hurt anyone or her self. Then he picked her and carried her away like he was carrying a baby.

They left. I was still sitting there. No one said anything to me. They just left me there. I was crying. I was unsettled. I felt like I had just come from another planet. I finally gathered my witts about me and went back to my clasroom. That was the last I heard about it. That was the last time I saw her.

The next day was heart warming for me though. I still felt sad and a little unsettled but I carried on as usual. My kids. I loved them so much. And now you'll understand why. Every time I went to do something like hand out supplies, 2-3 kids would jump up and said, "we got this Ms. C." They wouldn't let me do anything. It was like they knew or maybe heard about what happened and THEY wanted to take care of ME! Yeah the ones I was warned about, my little gangsters, my little tough ones took care of ME! Wow.

They did that because I treated everone with respect. I was firm, but kind and was consistent. I made it fun to come to my class. They wanted to be there and they tried. You don't have to be an a$$hole to be a good teacher. That's for another blog though.

I have never been all that great about listening to my instincts but that day taught me a valuable lesson. I try to be more aware and pay attention to what my gut, my insides tell me. Sometimes I am right and sometimes I am grateful that I am wrong. Either way, I have learned to listen to my instincts.

Heartbreaking story.
As for your "crazy" student... Wherever she is, I hope she's ok.

Me too. I'm sure they took her to the hospital for a long stay. Looking back i've wondered if she had DID. I think they might have put her in a special school. I don't know.