Freiman's Missive to the populace

Freiman's Missive to the populace

Fourteenth Edition

Meditate upon the Octopus.

Unto my brothers and sisters in the Legion of Shadows
come greetings from Freiman the Minstrel

I have been working in education for about four years. During that time I have heard a number of wonderful "discipline" stories. Life may have been easier in the "bad old days" of corporal punishment, but I have never felt the lack for spanking to control a class. I like to think that if I am not smarter than they, then I am older and wilier.

Everyone is familiar with what the army calls "short-timer syndrome". The basic idea (in academic terms) is that on the last day of school, there is really no punishment available for relatively minor offenses, like cursing a teacher. I have solved that problem with an intervention rather than a punishment. A child that is disruptive often needs much closer supervision, so the child has to hold my hand while I walk them to either the bus or to lunch. This is such a dire threat that the children (particularly junior high school boys) would rather chew off their own arms. I have never had to actually carry out the threat. I save that one; it never fails.

When working with recalcitrant gym classes, it is sometimes helpful to allow kids to get out of "punishment laps" by being the fastest runner in the group. The kids end up running a lot harder and faster if they think that will get them out of running hard and fast.

I know one teacher (an SCA lady) who carries a roll of duck tape to fasten boys (or perhaps, in this instance, its "boyz") pants up in lieu of a belt. She claims that after the first five, no boyz were wandering around the hallways with their pants drooping.

My own personal best story came when I was subbing in a high school gym class. The class was just ignoring me, for the most part, when I decided to make them do five pushups each. The kids did them, and I had no trouble thereafter. I thought that was the end of it. Until the next day. I was "found" by one of the kid's parents. He was a very large Army Master Sergeant. He was easily more than five inches taller than me, and a weight lifter to boot. His head was bare except for a faint layer of razor stubble. He had the darkest skin I had ever seen on an American, and a long keiloid scar running from his left ear down to his jaw. He looked sternly at me and said in a deep Southern accent, "Did you make my little angel do pushups?"
Though terrified, I managed to say, "Yes, I did. It was gym class".
"Good," he said. "I've done a million pushups in this man's army, and she doesn't appreciate a single one of them."

The local high school and middle school share a campus with staggered lunches. The teachers at the local high school have found that lunch detention in the middle school science lab works wonders. In the lab, the detentionees (almost invariably boys) have to clean glassware, clean the fish tanks or the rabbit cage, or - the worst punishment of all - Dust the Specimen Cabinet.

The Specimen Cabinet is pretty high on the weird-shit-o-meter. The specimens were all in the lab supply room when the current teacher took over, and she says that the previous lab teacher doesn't know the origins of the stuff either. There are things in there that have dates in the nineteen fifties. Most of them were gross when they were put into their jars, and the passage of half a century has not made them any nicer. Children hate and fear the Specimen Cabinet.

The Queen of the Cabinet is a huge, nasty, pickled octopus. She is in a three gallon jar, with a huge, rusty, white lid. The label has yellowed with time, but the glass of the jar is clear as a bell, thanks to frequent dusting. The Queen is easily the most powerful image most of the kids have ever seen outside a screen, and she holds a terrible power over young minds.

Not too long ago, a sophomore from the high school had proven too much for his regular teacher, and he was sent to the seventh grade labs. He was polishing the jar of a four foot lamprey, when one of the seventh graders laughed at him. I mentioned that, didn't I? The junior high students are in the classroom while the high school students wash the dishes, clean the fish tanks, or (god forbid) Dust The Specimen Cabinet. Junior high schoolers laugh at them. There are very few repeat offenders.

Anyway, this student laughed at the offender, and the older boy threw the dust rag at him and threatened him. This would simply have made the young man serve another day of detention, but the boy compounded his error by calling the science teacher a "bitch".

Well, the boy just hadn't thought about why the school sends it's very worst students to this particular lady's lab. The students call her "the drill sergeant". Plus, I believe that she is the only teacher who is not afraid of The Queen.

Three minutes later the boy was standing in the corner, holding The Queen's jar about three inches from his nose. Every time he tried to look away, he was told "Meditate Upon The Octopus! Or you will be cleaning the INSIDE of the jar!" He stood that way for a full fifteen minutes, barring the few moments during which he was violently ill.

That was shortly before Christmas. By all reports, he may make the honor roll this semester.

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I have been working in education for about four years. During that time I have heard a number of wonderful "discipline" stories. Life may have been easier in the "bad old days" of corporal punishment, but I have never felt the lack for spanking to control a class. I like to think that if I am not smarter than they, then I am older and wilier.
Everyone is familiar with what the army calls "short-timer syndrome". The basic idea (in academic terms) is that on the last day of school, there is really no punishment available for relatively minor offenses, like cursing a teacher. I have solved that problem with an intervention rather than a punishment. A child that is disruptive often needs much closer supervision, so the child has to hold my hand while I walk them to either the bus or to lunch. This is such a dire threat that the children (particularly junior high school boys) would rather chew off their own arms. I have never had to actually carry out the threat. I save that one; it never fails.
When working with recalcitrant gym classes, it is sometimes helpful to allow kids to get out of "punishment laps" by being the fastest runner in the group. The kids end up running a lot harder and faster if they think that will get them out of running hard and fast.
I know one teacher (an SCA lady) who carries a roll of duck tape to fasten boys (or perhaps, in this instance, its "boyz") pants up in lieu of a belt. She claims that after the first five, no boyz were wandering around the hallways with their pants drooping.
My own personal best story came when I was subbing in a high school gym class. The class was just ignoring me, for the most part, when I decided to make them do five pushups each. The kids did them, and I had no trouble thereafter. I thought that was the end of it. Until the next day. I was "found" by one of the kid's parents. He was a very large Army Master Sergeant. He was easily more than five inches taller than me, and a weight lifter to boot. His head was bare except for a faint layer of razor stubble. He had the darkest skin I had ever seen on an American, and a long keiloid scar running from his left ear down to his jaw. He looked sternly at me and said in a deep Southern accent, "Did you make my little angel do pushups?" Though terrified, I managed to say, "Yes, I did. It was gym class". "Good," he said. "I've done a million pushups in this man's army, and she doesn't appreciate a single one of them."
The local high school and middle school share a campus with staggered lunches. The teachers at the local high school have found that lunch detention in the middle school science lab works wonders. In the lab, the detentionees (almost invariably boys) have to clean glassware, clean the fish tanks or the rabbit cage, or - the worst punishment of all - Dust the Specimen Cabinet.
The Specimen Cabinet is pretty high on the weird-shit-o-meter. The specimens were all in the lab supply room when the current teacher took over, and she says that the previous lab teacher doesn't know the origins of the stuff either. There are things in there that have dates in the nineteen fifties. Most of them were gross when they were put into their jars, and the passage of half a century has not made them any nicer. Children hate and fear the Specimen Cabinet.
The Queen of the Cabinet is a huge, nasty, pickled octopus. She is in a three gallon jar, with a huge, rusty, white lid. The label has yellowed with time, but the glass of the jar is clear as a bell, thanks to frequent dusting. The Queen is easily the most powerful image most of the kids have ever seen outside a screen, and she holds a terrible power over young minds.
Not too long ago, a sophomore from the high school had proven too much for his regular teacher, and he was sent to the seventh grade labs. He was polishing the jar of a four foot lamprey, when one of the seventh graders laughed at him. I mentioned that, didn't I? The junior high students are in the classroom while the high school students wash the dishes, clean the fish tanks, or (god forbid) Dust The Specimen Cabinet. Junior high schoolers laugh at them. There are very few repeat offenders.
Anyway, this student laughed at the offender, and the older boy threw the dust rag at him and threatened him. This would simply have made the young man serve another day of detention, but the boy compounded his error by calling the science teacher a "bitch".
Well, the boy just hadn't thought about why the school sends it's very worst students to this particular lady's lab. The students call her "the drill sergeant". Plus, I believe that she is the only teacher who is not afraid of The Queen.
Three minutes later the boy was standing in the corner, holding The Queen's jar about three inches from his nose. Every time he tried to look away, he was told "Meditate Upon The Octopus! Or you will be cleaning the INSIDE of the jar!" He stood that way for a full fifteen minutes, barring the few moments during which he was violently ill.
That was shortly before Christmas. By all reports, he may make the honor roll this semester.

Freiman's Missive to the populace

Fourteenth Edition

Meditate upon the Octopus.

Unto my brothers and sisters in the Legion of Shadows come greetings from Freiman the Minstrel

Unto my brothers and sisters in the Legion of Shadows
come greetings from Freiman the Minstrel