Pirates, Ninjas, and Youth Crime Watch − 26 March, 2008 - 29 March, 2008

Four years ago, I started teaching at a combined middle / high school in a nearby rural county. It turned out to be a good decision. The students I've had there have been great, even though times have been tough and we've all been crushed under the boot of standardized testing (and No Child Left Behind).

Now that I stand here at the brink of my own personal Courts of Chaos, contemplating another leap into the unknown, I find myself thinking about the past a lot.

I have chaperoned a lot of field trips. Our school's resource officer made contact with me in my very first year and asked me to go along on a trip to Camp Blanding (a nearby National Guard base) for something called teen summit.

It was a big responsibility. A lot of people outside of teaching think, wow, they pay you to go on a trip and be away from school for a few days -- must be nice. Ha. Try this: You're on duty 24 hours a day, until the trip is over. You are far away from home, in a strange environment, and responsible for the safety of a group of 11 to 14 year olds.

It can be nervewracking.

I just got back from a field trip, and, in a way, I feel like I've been in combat. This was NOT because of the kids from our school: they were great.

Above all, remember this -- I stayed at that school for as long as I could, because the students there were worth it. They appreciate what they are given, and respect teachers that put in extra effort. If you treat them like human beings, they will do the same.

However, the same is not true everywhere.

Youth Crime Watch Convention, Miami, FL

I guess I get along with middle schoolers well because . . . well, they have a reputation for "knowing everything". I guess I fit right in ;-) I am strict when it's important, but during less stressful times, kick back and joke around with them, telling my goofy stories and making my oddball observations about things.

I also listen to them -- and even learn a few things. Here's the coolest thing I picked up:

One of my former students, Ben (an 8th grader now, I had him in 6th grade) introduced me to the terms Piratelike and Ninjalike. I think this ties into the famous Pirates vs. Ninjas debate, except, basically, kids from our 8th grade seem to have decided in favor of Ninjas.

Things that are the best, things that are "Winners", are called Ninjalike. As in "Watch my ninjalike skills at this game."

Things that aren't the best -- the also-rans of the universe, aka the Losers -- are Piratelike.

So, in honor of my new vocabulary terms, I've decided to present my official

Pirates vs. Ninjas Retrospective
on the Miami Convention

Ninjalike -- The conference itself was well organized, with a lot of well planned sessions. The top three presentations I remember were from S.A.V.E. (Students against Vandalism Everywhere), an officer from the Canadian Mounties ("Pay Now or Pay Later"), and two police detectives from Seattle who did a workshop on cyber-bullying.

Piratelike -- The hotel was so piratelike it should have been flying a Jolly Roger in its parking lot. If I had time to write a separate article, I'd list every time they goofed up our paperwork. Just the lowlights: they didn't have our rooms ready on time, they had scattered our kids in different rooms on different floors, they demanded photo ID for the credit cards to match the names on the cards (which is impossible when the card belongs to "Sheriff's Department" -- unless your name happens to be Sheriff S. Department!), they refused to validate our parking, and so on. And I'm not even getting into the construction, the elevators that went nowhere, and the endless trips up and down fire escapes to get anywhere on time.

Ninjalike -- I've been on many trips with our school resource officer over the years, but on this one, she truly showed some Ninja skills. Not only did she handle all the paperwork nonsense, but she even kept us safe in probably one of the most run-down and decrepit areas of Miami. Where was that? Outside the hotel, of course. It was . . .

Piratelike -- A war zone. There were no real restaurants anywhere around. Most of the area was either being demolished or under construction. The prices in the hotel restaurant were outside our kids' budget, and the only two chain restaurants nearby were Checkers and Burger King. Even a trip across the street to Checkers was hazardous. When we went, I saw all the tables were occupied. As we got closer, I saw it wasn't actual customers, but bums. Not Otis the Town Drunk, either: these were hardcore bums from Krakpipistan. Passed out, wandering and babbling, snatching at invisible gnats, aggressively panhandling.

We kept them safe, and I think this was a valuable lesson for the kids. They complain about a lot of things, but I think some of them, up to that moment, didn't really realize how good they had it. In fact, when we got back to the conference, there was a session called "Effects of Drugs and Alcohol." One of the students said to me, "I think we've been to that session already."

Ninjalike -- the kids from our school were very well behaved. However, they did bring along a Sony Playstation 2, and managed to get their chaperone addicted to a game called "Twisted Metal 2."

Now, if you've read my other entries, you know what I do I tend to focus on exclusively, so they all had a good laugh watching me play that game, get the hang of it, and be jumping around like a madman. For some reason, I pulled out a lot of '70s phrases for that game. I usually played as a tank called Warthog, and when I ambushed one of the enemy vehicles (for example, the Evil Clown in the ice cream truck), I'd jump out of the shadows firing all my missiles and yell "Surprise, Sucka!" When I got hit by missiles from another enemy, I'd say "Jiiiive Turkey!"

Piratelike -- Not all the students were up to our standards. In fact, we went with another school from our district. I won't say much in specific detail for privacy reasons, but I will say this: they took just about everything that was done for them for granted, and disrespected the adult sponsors. A minor example: On our way out of the hotel one time, we rode in a pair of county vans.

I looked over at the other van, and one of the smaller girls was riding in the passenger seat. I exchanged looks with our school's Deputy and rolled down my window, motioning to them to do the same. "You can't have her ride in front," I said. "The airbag would kill her in a crash." The Deputy said the same thing. What did we get? Rolled eyes, sighs, a few sotto voce comments, and a lot of giggling. Finally they moved themselves out of danger.

Now. When a science teacher and a law enforcement officer tell you, on a field trip, that you are in danger, and they have been charged with your safety -- is mockery really the best response? I would have fallen over dead with shock if that sort of response had come from one of our students.

Piratelike -- By the end of the trip, needless to say, I was highly aggravated. Every time we stopped on the way back, the other school managed to turn it into an extended 30 minute delay. The last straw came at the last rest stop: we went inside, used the restrooms, got all our crew back together, then went out to the vans. Well, there were 14 people total, sitting in the vans, waiting, when two of the kids from the other school said that they'd only come back to get their money (they'd left it in the van the first time) and needed to go back inside to get donuts. 30 minutes later, they finally came back out.

One of them passed our van, and said a smart remark to someone else inside. No one understood it -- I guess it was a verbal drive-by. I just rolled up our windows and said to Ben, "Translation: Yo - Ho - Ho." (Piratelike).

Endgame: Logan's Run

Ninjalike: we made it home, safe. In the end, that's what matters.

But maybe there was one casualty.

We live in a very youth oriented culture. The elders, respected in other cultures, are sidelined, their wisdom discarded, their opinions ignored, their bodies and faces repellent to the MTV generation. Ultimately we're isolated, alone, locked away in rest homes, hospital beds, and forgotten like a plastic bag, used and tossed in a dumpster.

My experience with that other school reminded me of Logan's Run. Many of their comments were about superficial things: appearance, age, clothing. At every turn, I heard only negative comments about anyone who was over 30. And as an adult over 30, I encountered only disrespect and grudging compliance from that group.

Logan's Run: in a future society, at birth, the image of a rose was tatooed onto the palm. The dye was slightly radioactive, and the color of the rose changed over time: first blue, then yellow in adolescence, then red in adulthood. When the rose darkened, at about age 30, the citizens were required to turn themselves over for voluntary execution.

Logan's Run was an extension of its time. The Vietnam War had produced a generation that blamed their elders for the mistakes of the past, leading to the phrase "Never Trust Anyone Over 30." In the City of Domes, this was carried to its logical conclusion: death to them -- the ultimate sanction.

I felt a bit of that. And I became aware that this is a common feeling. Maybe I've been a bit blind, teaching at this rural school, where the kids are so enthusiastic when they see an adult is willing to make learning fun. I saw a little bit of that other America, the land of privilege, the land of princesses that shout "Off with his head!" when the soup is delivered too cold.

Were I an eskimo, I'd say today, I see that my ice floe is waiting.

The world has become Piratelike.

Yo ho ho.

Posted on March 30, 2008. and has been viewed 130 times.