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Tuesday 7:45 a.m. Wolf Spider of Pennsylvania, Washington County School Basement, March 2026

This morning, when I got to my classroom at the hospital, a large “wolf-spider” was crouching calmly alongside the 3 bean bags left on the floor (that I didn’t clean up Monday, after school)

and as I scanned the room, prioritizing my next steps to prepare for the day, my eyes landed on Mr. Wolf the Spider. I immediately got weird about it, talking to him softly. No one else arrived yet, so I started pretending the spider was there on purpose, for me, to talk to me, to give me a sign, and also that I’m the queen of the wolf spiders Then I had to tell him, you needs to go hide before others come and want to kill you for no reason.

Last week, I even carried a small cockroach to safety outside of our classroom. In previous classrooms like with boys who primarily liked bullying, I’d have to hide this from them. I placed Cousin Cockroach higher up on the gym wall/pole.
Reflecting, I can’t guarantee to him he’ll be better off there That on our floor, and he also doesn’t need it my supposed help.
He’s a cockroach. I’m the one with no shell or ability to survive poison, extreme temperatures, dehydration, fire, nuclear warfare.
I’m the one that’s not safe. Cockroaches and those tiny water walruses— it’s the tiny, hardy things that will inherit the earth corporations destroyed for profit. [insert present tense] And my students, hell we could get trapped in here- the basement- and burn or drown or asphyxiate any day of the week.
It’s an old building with janky, shitty locks, bad ventilation, questionable structure, janky keys, broken door handles, and the unbreakable glass that they break once per week.

Anyway, the wolf spider was just fucking around. I said, for real, bro, you need to go on somewhere else. All the people are about to get here and one of them will step on you on accident, if nothing else. I don’t want someone else to see you and be screaming shit about a spider.

Plus, I have to put these black bean bags away, or the kids will think we get to start the day with movies, rather than how we have to earn them by doing a million difficult things (it will be the easiest thing, i swear, they make it the hardest) It’s hard for us too (the staff) getting up early, driving here, Making people do things yell and refuse?

You think I want to get up and talk to you all day? No, I wanna sit on my fattening butt and check my phone And I want everyone to fuck off too, but guess what we’re poor So I have to work, and you have to go to school here. So, I make them do shit like read and think about math (as much as I can) without them crashing out.

So, I got up to put the bean bags away (don’t call them black again!) I shook them off gently, trying to let Wolfie down easy, but dammit he had already jumped off, and I had already stepped on part of him. I got down on the floor and started trying to assess the damage.

Everything we do is filmed in seemingly technicolor detail, so i did hope nobody was watching me on cameras at the moment Two legs were fucked up. Listen, I told him, I really, really really really fucking sorry. Not as sorry as I was when I broke a young buck’s back leg with my stupid Chevy Cruise, on a rainy Wednesday 4pm, on a slippery road, right where I usually start to speed up and gun for home. So that- I’ll never forget. I begged for that lil guy’s forgiveness, but I don’t deserve it. None of us do. But the spider— don’t their legs grow back?

So I said to him, look I need to take you somewhere. You keep trying to stay in the most obvious, trample-able places, and I started trying to scoop him up with a paper But he was quicker, and kept jumping off He didn’t even land right, so finally I said suit yourself. He was against the side of the blue gym mat where Martinez likes to pass out after his meds kick in And it was really the safest spot he could have chosen besides the closet, which was my goal Even in there he might scare one of my teammates and they smash his guts

I don’t know if Wolfie made it or not, through the day. A couple minutes later, students arrived from their units. Martinez strode up to me and proudly pointed to his arm, “Look! Look! I’m getting a new roommate!” He was smiling, but also agitated. On his arm was an cresent red slash with bleeding puncture wounds on either side. You’re hurt! You’re hurt! I paged it, Can we have a nurse in 3? They got on the pager, We already know, they said, we’ll come soon I gave Martinez a napkin.
Is that a bite? I asked. Yes, he said, nodding emphatically. Who did it? He told me his roommate. So, a vampire bat then. A new roommate is certainly in order. I love Martinez. When I think of his laughter, and bright joyous face I laugh, myself. If I had nothing else to do, I would adopt that kid. But he’s willing to really hurt people who say no to him about food. And you just gotta say no, sometimes. He’s one of my favorites though. Another one of my favorites is obsessed with the Marvel Universe, and most of all, Spiderman.

One of my silly thoughts this morning was, maybe the spider is here for the kid. When we watched Spider Verse They asked, can a spider really do that? They have no idea what can really happen. and what can’t.

Is It Springtime

How long till I die and become a famous poet Do I have to go to prison and be a martyr for that or is this all leading to a world like my aunt created in her mind with an imaginary relationship and everything, am I delusional, so what’s the feeling then is it mania is it drugs is it the book, Dune is it all the books with narratives incorporating prophesies that are manifest, and people with specific parts to play and it culminates in the sequel which ends in a disappointing way

the people choose their poets

the poets choose the people

Worries:

are either of my checking accounts going to earn an overdraft fee today or will things clear in time

is anyone mad at me do they talk about me behind my face what do they think should be obvious to me that isn’t

what bridges have i burned that earned grudges against me

how will i survive prison without my dog

and my cat

without my stuff

when will i go to prison

how will i die, when, and such will my dog already have passed? i hope so

why do i have to get chunky. it’s not appropriate. yet i did nothing wrong but enjoy fries and bread, fuck you, fat belly

Nooo be nice to the belly Belly holds emotions Worried about ageing, how to age, How to let the young be righteous

Old Worry: Is there any way to feel better or not

Coincidence or no?

Back in 2014, I was in my 7th year of working for a Zionist, capitalist, high-political-donation business, #ESO #EllisSafdeye #Originals. They sold plastic shoes made in China to places in the U.S. like #Target #Walmart and #Payless and they acquired the license to brands like #Rampage #Thomasthetrain #Oilily, etc.

So, I worked in the corporate office in #NYC midtown as a #receptionist and #logistics #assistant processing #BOLs bills of lading. I answered the phone, (4 lines) I paged people, I announced #Minyan I received visitors I also read literature, wrote in my blog, and stalked someone online with unrequited interest.

Sometime around 2010, they fired the shipping manager (one of them) for selling overflow shoes at a table in Harlem, rather than throwing them into the dumpster. My first year there, I let all the plants behind the front desk die for no reason. I kept forgetting to water them and they all died.

I enjoyed living in #Brooklyn and working in #NYC but I was A green ear of corn and always poor. Even though I went to #gradschool at #Huntercollege on the Eastside, I didn’t know about world #politics or #currentevents (besides 9/11). I was just trying to be a #poet and #singer, and I mostly thought about #greatness #sadness and #infatuation But I read literature I know I hated Bush and was a committed democrat who felt real #hope about Obama (the weakest link).

I used to post random stuff on craigslist. Once I said I wanted Bush to die and the FBI contacted me saying, dontcha make no more jokes like that, little lady.

At work, I would receive the #orthodox men (we don’t shake hands with women) who came to ask for #alms for #Israel. My bosses treated them like peasants. They looked pretty dirty and full of head dandruff on the shoulders. I would get mad when they asked to charge their phone because I had that job a long time and stopped acting professional all the time. Charge your cellphone somewhere else. Go across the street to your electronics store. They’d ask to make copies with my personal copier. (it felt like mine after 5 years). More trouble out of my day. Like, I’m trying to drink this starbucks macha, eat my bagel, and read the NY Post.

My bosses, Alan, Joey, Morris, or Sonny (usually Sonny- the eldest family member still coming in to work in person) would make them wait for an hour, meanwhile they’re asking me to check on it, then come out with an attitude. Usually Sonny come out, finally, take the dusty begger in the little meeting room, and write the poor man a check for 15.00. Rude, or no? but it still seemed like Safdeyes viewed is as more than enough. That also made me not trust them (the people asking for alms). Maybe it was a ritual I didn’t understand, a performance.

They (ESO) would send out the oldest member of their company still coming to work, his name was Sonny, and I filed Sonny’s mail. I liked being in his velvet red, church like office with windows overlooking The Hudson river, the train yards, the shore, and New Jersey. I liked them, all of them, when hired in 2004, still had a Minnesota accent at times.

I just made copies, scanned documents, and entered sales and shoe information into #AS400 #database I type fast, I can read literature while receiving visitors, I liked that job. I think that’s why I still dream about it so much, in such vivid detail. That’s how I stayed there 7 (or 8?) years, although I quit in 2013 to try teaching, immediately got scared of teaching, got hired back that summer, and then I got fired soonthereafter.

When they fired me we were in the middle of moving offices on the west side. I had felt that my boss hated me in a novel way, and didn’t trust me. He had accused me of lying about getting stuck during travel the last day of vacation and not coming to do all his data entry, filing, and answer his phone. The new office was nice as hell. Fancy. Clean They definitely were taking a step up. They had survived 2012 by only axing about 30% more of us (cut 20% in 2009) (the rest settled for a slight pay cut). Downtown Manhattan, the #occupy movement was doing it’s thing. They didn’t remove them yet, and I still thought about going.

Last night I dreamed I was getting fired again, Someone was accusing me of writing the wrong year on invoices Which were the grounds they used to fire me. In reality, I had just finished getting a teaching degree, and had only gone back to work there because I was broke, scared, and not sure about the future (if anyone would hire me as a teacher). Like in real life, they were disgusted with my errors. And I was defiant inside, knowing I wasn’t that high or fucked up. I can type fast and accurately. I don’t make mistakes like that.

Only recently (the past year), after learning more about Palestine Zionism, based on media breaking through to Americans on social media I thought about the timeline. Not too long before I got fired I had walked past one of the older, bigwig’s offices (Alan), and I liked him but I was mad at him. I scowled at him. He was asking us to re-do or do something that seemed obviously stupid, with data or data entry. I made mistakes as a corporate slave, but I always thought this was the biggest one. Because I used drugs, and I was probably in withdrawal and in a very bad mood, and I’ve seen my angry face in the mirror It’s worth firing someone over So I thought it was that, the evil eye that got me clipped I’ve always tried to keep it in check since then, with variable results.

But around the time I got fired, I was also moving out of the apartment Five of us had rented in Bedford Stuyvesant, Brooklyn. We were a random group of youngish adults (I was the oldest), and our original rental agreement was about 500 each, given the rooms were tiny and makeover oviously cheap and shiny, your quick fix it up traphouse project. Indeed while living there I talked to black neighbors (it was their neighborhood, we were outsiders), and found out the apartment’s history. It definitely WAS a traphouse (drug trade-make and distribute from), and my neighbor said right before the Hasids (orthodox Jewish men) bought it, “they killed a girl in there- the trans- there was so much blood.” I mean the gang killed the girl, not the landlords. The house was cleaned and sold to gentrification.

We lived there a year, and this was the time that I married Jason and we moved back and forth between apartments, escaping rent He was subletting his apartment out (illegally, also from orthodox Jewish men- his rental) to a mother and her daughter who were visiting and maybe moving to Brooklyn. But he got caught and evicted. I was pissed, overall, and also severely underweight, drinking and smoking,

When the landlords told us they planned to double our rent (they found European/Asian visitors willing to pay that), we immediately decided to leave and go our separate ways. They were sick of me anyway.

But I wrote an email to the landlords (ours) and I said
something like that your people keep doing this (gentrification crimes)— because they doubled our rent! and that’s why no one likes you.

Yes, that’s exactly what I wrote, I remember. That’s why no one likes you. I bet they looked up my employer, ESO, and reported it to them. Then I got fired. Why it take me so long to figure this out? Mostly always fearing I’m not a good enough worker, and deserve to get fired because I’ve internalized the “productive, loyal worker mind” so it feels a part of me. I punish myself for not performing perfectly like AI (which didn’t exist then).

What will I learn next? While our leaders learn nothing.

Sadly my instance (Todon) just spank me on the wrist for being openly for violence against U.S. and Is and anyone else representing elite, aggressive interests in other people’s property, life blood, and resources.

I thought all sensible people agreed a group that wants to survive, much less beat them back, would have to be violent I hoped, cleverly so, like bandits, like guerillas, like the kid on Home Alone Like a Hollywood movie. All the animals fight together to beat the wolf off the farm. Unity overcomes an obstacle and the group saves the vulnerable baby, saves the pot of gold, saves the river from pollution Saves their grandparents, saves “democracy,” saves the “progress we’ve made over last 2,500 years— oops, I mean the devastation Latin cultures of Europe have wreaked on the world by colonizing it. Men across languages cooperated to destroy the strong women, and then the aristocracy destroyed the men.

Last night I was walking my dog for her pottytime before bed and I heard one of my neighbors' screaming voices, and pounding on the door of the house on the corner, which is a strong black house I mean a strong black mother runs it, and I’ve seen her come out with all her kids and make opposition high tail it out of there DON’T YOU EVER DON’T YOU EEEVVVERRR….do something but this was a teenage girl yelling hysterically. She was yelling so loudly she’d already lost her voice but kept up her verbal assault with a raspy hysteria. “He tried to kill me! My father tried to kil lme!” These things I heard from up the block.

By the time I got toward my house on the corner house, the drama unfolded. We (dog and I) sat on the front steps and watched, listened. Most of the neighbors were doing the same.

It was so dramatic and so boring. The girl wailed on and on, saying her father had thrown her on the ground and pulled out her hair extension FOR NO REASON, then she threatened the man inside with calling the police, and then she did, and they came. She also called an Op, after yelling WATCH WATCH WATCH WATCH THIS WATCH Saying, you need to come here and fuck my dad up, he hit me! And, he hurt the baby! He tried to shake my baby! The baby was about 7. Poor lil thing trapped between hell and hard place. Family yelled back for awhile from inside the house, but once the complainant called the ops and the police, it got silent in there.

One of my white neighbors came out to try to help the girl, who’s story changed quickly and considerably, and her main rages were about the hair coming out WHEN I JUST GOT IT DONE and FOR NO REASON The lady tried to help her calm down And encouraged not to talk to cops. The cops were green, young.

The gal soon changed from yelling threats and accusations to fake crying Also, her daughter started fake crying. Like mother like daughter, I guess. The gal wailed, NO THEY’RE HELPING ME, when the white lady kept trying to get her to stop saying MY DAD TRIED TO KILL ME to 3 cops and all their cars and lights.

I hate hearing cops on the street. To abolish cops, we need to stop thinking of them as helpers. They have nothing to offer. I went it before it even resolved. Gal was yelling ON NO YOU’RE NOT GOING TO ARREST HIM? YOU HAVE TO ARREEEEEHST HIM! More fake crying.

Good night. Even my dog wasn’t worried about this row and she hates the sound of fighting.

Do you think that Elon Musk looks like the lead singer from Tears for Fears? Are they random dopplegangers?

This morning (the first hour is the wildest), Sergei was in the gym, screaming the N word, antagonising staff assigned to encourage him into his classroom, and posturing, pushing, and personally insulting people Calling staff fat, lots of N word, bitch, pussy, lots of posturing (boy, you’re 100 pounds, max, anyone could take you down, and eventually they did).

I was starting our day in our classroom, and trying to manage the aural atmosphere. If a kid is screaming obscene words outside the door, and throwing objects like shoes or basketballs at our door, and all my students are getting upset, trying to go out there to get into the crisis reenactment, I put on louder video or music.

This morning I opted for one of my students’ #FAVORITE #songs Shout… Shout… LET IT ALL OUT These are the things we can do without! Come on! I’m talking to you! Come on!

We all sang that song loudly which overcame the sound of the kid screaming and crying, after finally getting the restraint he’d been begging for since he woke up

In a restraint, 4-5 adults hold you down, and wait for you to calm down. If you don’t calm your body (stop struggling against the restraint), within 10 minutes, they/we release you. If you walk away, sit, or stand calmly, we start entering “talk about the feelings and incident” phase. Let’s walk and talk. Then back to class, if possible.

The 80’s #music culture we’ve cultivated has helped us- our classroom surf the noise of despair right outside out door, let’s go 1984, rise up.

I will add that if anyone inside the room is showing aggression, we encourage them to leave. It’s a desperate situation. If the communication stays open between adults and kids, people can learn.

The Weakling Fooled us, GD it! I should resign

He/she/they foooled ALL OF US AT THE SCHOOL Knowing that’s their mfkn modus operandi! I KNOW Patrick I know how he set his parents up, accusing them of abuse calling the police on them. They had to install cameras to prove he was lying. He openly admits he does it to get something he wants If people say no, he’ll threaten with reporting them And regularly reports tons of incidents that he makes up

I still fell for it. I said, Am I a racist piece of shit!? I asked all the adults involved, they said no, Patrick fooled ALL of us. Their therapist said the reason is the accusation resembled behaviors the accused has shown before: of being sexually inappropriate with classmates, and attempting to engage on social media in fucked up ways That classmates do not like, and report to their parents, who finally Have to decide if they want to sacrifice their entire family and life to this psychotic child that’s using terrorism to control them Or send the child to experts, people who are prepared to physically intervene to preserve safety, and who show up to work with kids like them. In between, some evaluations, but overall, it’s because both home and school have said: this child is way to dangerous for us to deal with. And also they’re ruining everything for everyone else. So they are sent away, to us, to me, and yesterday I was bragging.

I said this is why we make the big bucks (sarcasm/exaggeration, but true relative to average “basic” teacher salaries. SPED teachers get a little more.

But should I even collect my paycheck, given I believed a child-con-artist accusing a roommate of sexual comments, gestures, and also kicking, attacking him. Pat said he was terrified, I freakin’ GAVE HIM A HUG. I HELPED GET HIM INTO ANOTHER UNIT AND CLASSROOM.

Yo, do you remember that movie with a priest, and a lawyer- Richard Gere- the accused is Edward Norton. Edward was abused by a priest, the priest raped him when he was young. So later he returns and cut the priest up, throws his blood everywhere, makes it nasty. Then when he gets arrested, Richard Gere defends him on an insanity plea But at the VERY END, after everyone’s convinced Norton doesn’t remember killing the priest (he fakes an alternative personality, or performs it consistently enough in the court for the jury to get a not guilty verdict. But of course at the very end he reveals to his lawyer who’s feeling great about his success as a genius lawyer, that he was lying the whole time, and happy with killing the priest. He pretends the fake accent that he used in court, and laughs at Richard Gere.

So that’s what Patrick did to us. Why? Maybe because he is attracted to Leontae. They’re both probably gay. Pat is a girl, wears a rainbow unicorn onsie every day, and female mannerisms. Leontae is tall, dark black, with dignified mannerisms and obvious, constant emotional distress, broken up by happy moments walking high on toes striding around, looking off into imaginary lang, and grinning (Autism love to do their thang).

Patrick is probably scared of Leontae. But we watched all the video footage of them together on the unit and everywhere in the building and there was no evidence of Pat’s accusations. on video it actually looked like Pat is following Leontae around.

So there I was— helping shuttle Patty away from Leontae who wanted to really hit or hurt Pat for telling people he was saying sexually inappropriate things, and asking things about sex, I protected Pat, who had made the whole thing up.

So this morning Leontae was out there, waiting for Patty near his (new) classroom door. My point was, fine, let him get him. You can’t lie about people the way Patrick does. It is actual terrorism. All to get something you want. And he got it. He got a roommate, unit, and classroom change. And I helped him do it :(

I apologized to Leontae today. My teammate said don’t apologize to kids because they’ll use it against you, but I said, no I think we need to model how to make an appropriate healthy apology, like taking responsbility without making excuses, renewing the argument, or asking the injured party to make the injuring party feel better about hurting them

Taking responsibility is always good. Kids learn the lesson or they don’t.

When we saw Patty in the cafeteria during change of 1st-2nd lunch I said to them, I know you lied to us, now. And I said, You wouldn’t have to be afraid of Leontae right now (he was trying to hide behind staff when we came in- and we were protecting him!), if you HAD NOT LIED ABOUT HIM.

Like Leontae said, he lied on my name. facts. so I said, if Leontae goes for him again, let Patrick catch a few licks. That will stick better, as a lesson, than us rescuing him.

Leontae is a gentle, poetic person. And he’s gay. He doesn’t want to beat Patrick up. He wants to hug. I’m so mad I kicked him away from us yesterday, “rescuing” Patrick. In retrospect, the whole thing is trifling af. What a long week! Still grateful for it.

No One Cares About (your coffee)

After school, we help take the kids up to their units in the orphanage My most difficult student based on high intelligence (smart evil kids are way harder) was refusing to transition up. He used to spend transition time in another class, but they won’t transition with him anymore based on his insane asylum behavior (attacking, screaming, etc. usually over candy or a reward he didn’t earn)

So he was by himself in the gym and I decided to hang out, from a distance til somebody else can take him on His vocal chords are five stars He would excel as a cheerleader and in theater, and as a heavy metal singer I wanted to just wait and watch him but since he’s addicted to attention he started harassing me. After I didn’t respond to being called a dumb bitch, he knocked the coffee out of my hand It fell and spilled. I still didn’t respond, I just hustled my coffee into a locked room and returned. He started yelling how nobody cares about me Busted out of the gym, and broke down like a baby in the outer stairwell, crying in big, heaving sobs

That was my last moment with him, yesterday today’s a new day.

The Airforce and Navy Seals of Teachers

Alternate Title: we all protect the weakling

9:00 AM Martinez came in angry. He goes in and out of the classroom, despite being instructed to stay in with us, given the chaos in the gym.

In the gym, at least 3 kids are screaming at the top of their lungs, trying to break stuff, pounding on doors, yelling curses included worst ones than you might have ever heard.

Last week Martinez accidentally broke my teammates thumb during an angry mood. Today he tried to hurl a chair and other things His IQ is around 60. He’s autistic, “low functioning,” but “verbal.”

80% of the time, I can be a “Martinez whisperer,” and flip his mood to happy. He immediately reacts poorly to a stern voice. Today he called me a whore, told my teammate he hates her and will never be her friend again. he told all of us that he’ll shoot us all, and attacked our weakest member, Patrick, intermittently Violating other students personal space, taking their stuff, sitting at their desks, mad that we have school.

Andrew is also 100% mad that we have school, because it means there will be expectations. He’ll have to follow our schedule, (I barely even challenge him academically, academics come second to safety and physical emotional regulation).

He’s convinced himself that: He cannot tolerate not having scotch tape to create his art He has a right to make paper figure art 12/24 hours a day without interruption. Otherwise, it’s our fault that he starts yelling and threatening rampage and destruction. If we would just put on a movie and stop bothering him, he wouldn’t have to call us names and scream about it.

At the end of the day he was furious at me because we witheld his daily potential reward. He didn’t get the scotch tape and sissors and he didn’t get to print pictures from the classroom computer.

When he’s mad, he mutters to himself, rocks in his desk, shakes, grimaces, points at people, balls his fist at people, makes verbal threats, and cries. None of that really bothers me. I felt great about witholding the reward. He lost it because he complained dramatically about being asked to do simple tasks (our academic schedule), and kept engaging in back-and-forth argument with Sheldon, who spends all his time at school trying to instigate conflict with anyone and everyone. He cannot tolerate not getting his way, either.

See, kids do have “special needs.” But one very special need kids have is learning how to accept “no” and “not right now.” If adults who raised them haven’t been able to hold the line and have given in when annoying, aggressive, and unpleasant behaviors escalate, rather than letting the child take space to be mad, but also shown compassion and regulation that they can copy. Adults have to model the ability to accept disappointment and comfort kids who are disappointed once the rage (if it flares) subsides.

Many adults and parents can’t tolerate the idea of their child being angry at them. They take the fury personally, and are triggered by memories of being young, powerless, and disappointed, and in many cases, children are already MEETING ADULTS EMOTIONAL NEEDS OR TRYING TO, because their parent expects it.

Children are actually people. They have the full range of thoughts, emotions, all of that. They are extremely perceptive, especially about mood and body language. The worst thing adults can do to children is

expect children to meet their needs. needs for intimacy, needs to feel in control, needs to assuage fear needs of practical caretaking, parenting younger siblings because the parents are struggling with homelessness, incarceration, addiction and alcoholism. — in other words the war on poor people Most Children will do what they are asked to do. (the orphans could not) And by asking children to meet adults needs, the children are sacrificed

These students have been savagely sacrificed to adult needs. Which is why I don’t need anything from them, overall and on purpose. Adults should only ask other adults to meet their needs. Otherwise, you have children like my students, and they’re broken.

They cannot tolerate their feelings. They don’t know how to calm down. They haven’t seen adults calm themselves down. They’ve seen rage and racism. They’ve been targeted and neglected. They will be incarcerated, hospitalized, or ideally, in a functional group home when they graduate. They graduate according to individual goals, And they graduate no matter what. 21 is the oldest school can go for them.

At my job, there’s a lot of work looking for new homes for these kids. They were so consistently unmanageable that they’re sent to the cuckoo school It’s hard to convince another school or foster parents to want a child who’s aggressive on a daily basis, and may burn your house down, who has emotionally disturbed feces/urination behaviors, who abuses younger children, who may stab somebody with a fork (use plastic sporks) who can’t be left alone with pets, who should never be left alone at all. Don’t take your damn eyes off them or you’ll be sorry. This is a burden that has to be spread out, it can break an individual adult.

Last month, one of our housekeeping staff got fired because she slapped a student who came up to her, demanded a hug, and then spit on her (his modus operandi). I was on her side. She shouldn’t be required to deal with the students. She’s cleaning up their literal messes and didn’t train for composure given insane circumstances. I think they hired her back, though, it’s not a fun job, I bet. Lots of soiled linen. She was rude to me more than once, but got nicer over time. I’m on her side.

Patrick is a weakling that we conspire to protect (and dammit we fail). He’s a “girl.” I think he really is a girl or female, and wants to be, but has no power to do much about it. He jokes about being called girl names. He wears a onsie every day, with a tail, over his clothes. He stands with his hands at his nape like a little squirrel. He has big sad eyes, or mischievous, a dirty mullet for hair, and missing, gray teeth. He’s hard to understand, his voice doesn’t carry. He told me on Monday, when I asked “What’s new?” about the weekend Patrick: I’m pregnant with a unicorn Kid loves unicorns and Christmas lights, draws 100’s of the lights, I’d die trying to protect him! Thankfully I didn’t have to, yet

At the beginning of the day, he reported that Leontae had kicked him again, and threatened him not to tell, and being sexually inappropriate, pulling his pants down So as a team, we reported that stuff and set the process in motion.
Then Leontae’s therapist came down, and took him out, and told him off. He came back pissed off thinking snitches get stitches and tried to attack Patrick 3 times. I blocked for him twice and had to hustle Patrick to another classroom Leontae punched him in the head over my head, with his long arms.

Leontae is twice Patrick’s size. That triggers our desire to protect him as a basic decency.

I was sad Leo’s arm/fist reached Pat’s head because only last week, Sheist hit Patrick over the head, HARD (from behind, of course) with big, plastic, sound-cancelling headphones And it gashed his scalp, beneath the “business in the front” part.

When Leo got him, and I rushed Pat out, taking him to another room, while trying to get the stupid classroom door unlocked, I held up my leg and kicked Leo back. That’s what he gets, ay? I yelled HELP HELP and my new teammate who’s a big, fit sports guy He grabbed Leontae in a one-man hold While I jiggled the key to room 10 until it opened.

Walked back to my room, another student has crashed out and is being restrained after having the best day he’s ever had.

The school day ended, and I spent the rest of the day following up to make sure that Leo or Pat was moved to a new unit, and the roomateship would be no more. And this occurred.

If our students have repeated sexually inappropriate behaviors, we refer them to a brother program that specializes in that treatment Our program is more for severe Autism, IDD, and less consciously deviant students. Our student are slower. That doesn’t mean you can’t get hurt, even just accidentally, like tripping during a big commotion. My teammate broke her ankle like that, last year. I have multiple teammates and it changes. I’m the teacher. They have other positions that support me and the students.

At one point, even I was running away from Martinez in the gym He tore his hat off and threw it down. He can’t catch me, jogging. I’m really never mad at him. But I’m worried about him.

All the students act out the most against the weakest members. Sheist has punched 3 students in the back, people who won’t hit back. We try to talk to them about self-defense too, but some kids just won’t. Some kids really depend on adults to keep them safe. To get the predator away from them. I tried to talk to Patrick about kicking as a possible self-defense move. Could you think about kicking? the next time?

One of my kids used to bite another kid in the arm, he did it like 10-20 times. Every single time, the bitten kid would look up Confusedly, pointing to the boy hanging off his forearm, and not even be able to form the words. I would knock the arm out with an imprompru karate chop Not too hard, just to separate them, but we could not get the bitten party to do anything but freeze. The bitten party would even giggle- a bit of fawn. That’s sad!

I really get animated protecting victims from bullies but the most impossible thing – or the goal- would be for them to feel safe enough, to pick a self defense strategy. It can be sneaky. You can use a weapon. You can do it later, delayed. But you’re worth it, kiddo.

Andrew is a fighter. He wanted to attack both Martinez and Leontae, but was convinced to let it go. He tried everything to convince us not to hold him accountable for earlier behavior. Ranting, evil eye, crying, acting like he truly would not survive.

It feels good to be the calm one. Show em how to do it. Setting boundaries, not taking things personally. Following through with consequences, not falling apart when he shakes and tells me how mean I am, haha!

Today was a lot. And I’ve written a lot. Driving home, I thought how drivers deserve to crash, and so does the U.S.

Minneapolis in summer was worth its own time and date stamp

Here it goes: i love you mom

i love you, city— i loved being what we were then

and what we are now, too, that’s the gift from all of you,

It’s a poll about candy, and a memory

for girls and, for us

holding onto mom’s skirts, from the van in the hot parking lot

into the cool, department store: SEARS, things were in our budget

Pick out dresses for Easter Sunday, and sets to wear

for school graduation, the limit you’ll spend is 100 each

Generous, a week of work, at least

Are swedish fish a bright memory for other 80’s kids?

vote yes or no, below.

For us, yes, because my mom bought them at SEARS

in south Minneapolis

My true, true, true, truest home

Somehow (impossibly? fictionally? coincidentally?

HOW?!!!)

Racking my brain: IT CAN’T BE RANDOM

HOW MY HOME is the war site

THE WAR FOLLOWed us Stalking our black and brown friends

STINKY CLAWS, THE OLD, white ENTRAILS

WHITE DEVILS FOLLOWed us, seeking witches to burn

Overview: #Minneapolis in 2026 makes me personally proud— I’m yelling,

“GO, HOMETOWN! KEEP #VIOLATING #DHS #ICE #illegal #OCCUPATION!”

Minneapolis isn’t perfect, has a bloody history, not

easy for any black or “othered” people there, or anywhere

The #resistance has been unbelievable in response

How they been fighting back, how they been clever

#clown them with nonviolent #pranks and #traps like throwing #snowballs and #homealone movie type shit- your creativity for peace deserves a nobel prize!

(And they gave you one)

THAT keeps our #spiritsup #kopfhoch —this means keep your head up

in German. German is not an evil language,

Of course there is a white devil there, born as Jesus died

But Americans who judge Germans

are ignorant of their own history.

The Nazis and the Stasi came AFTER American slavery

and Jim Crow Apartheid.

Not all German people are bad.

European boundaries are not the real boundaries.

OK, swedish fish hold the motherish memories, the city, the summer,

Chicago Ave. and Lake Street, our neighborhood.

My mom, our mother so clearly wanted to get what we wanted

to please me, shopping, she and I would would go on and on,

store to store, she’d increase the amount of of money she’d spend on an outfit

for ME, just so I’d feel quality cute, in something that looked great on me.

Our parents wanted to give us what we dreamed of, even

fancy college, fancy degrees, time spent on adventures

Of course, they started with each other, making silly dreams come true

Taught us the laughter of survival, insanity when the wind blows you back.

Minneapolis is not perfect, the names name the genocide, as a place

that always belonged to others, Dakota and Lakota

All the names prove their history, may they last and someday flourish.

I swam in Nikomis, at sunset, my baptism, and I miss it, the lake.

I miss the time of candy at SEARS, the terrible journey to air,

Mom crashing out, getting mad, dragging us out of there, then

get us an ice cream cone to cool down, laugh it off-

that was ours, we had something.