"Move, move, quickly!" she yelled at those of us who straggled behind. Her trademark black wig, her large, dark sunglasses, and the crimson red lipstick slathered on her lips gave her a cartoonish appearance.
"Sieg Heil," my friend, Kurt, muttered.
Her head snapped around to where we dragged our feet at the end of the line. "What was that?!" she demanded.
Kurt quickly answered, "Nothing, nothing at all, ma'am."
My head throbbed, my mouth felt like a dozen stuffed animals hibernated in it, and my stomach was already signaling revolt. Mrs. Wilty, our high school choir teacher and head chaperon of this senior year trip to Europe was known for her strict ways at school, but here on the streets of Rome she grew even more strident in her control and her admonitions.
Kurt moaned quietly. "Ohhh, my head." I nodded, but barely. It hurt too much. Truth be told, a small group of us had just made it back into the hotel two hours prior to our 7 AM wake up calls. The night life of Rome held too much fun for us not to unwrap that forbidden package. Although we were wily enough to outwit our sponsors, we were no match for the consequences of our revelry.
Mrs. Wilty and the other adult sponsors led the 40 seventeen and eighteen year olds past a cluster of older women sitting against the edge of a building where we were to eat breakfast. They were dressed simply, with sensible dark shoes and scarves covering their hair. They chatted animatedly among themselves, their deeply lined faces stretching into smiles as their hands helped to tell their stories with large gestures.
One who used a cane to prop herself into her chair chortled as the last of us sat at the outdoor tables near where they were, revealing a mouth about half full of teeth.
Mrs. Wilty made her way through the tables. "Each of you will get two fried eggs, bacon, and orange juice. Eat quickly, and clean your plates. We have to show our appreciation! Do NOT appear rude to the Eyetalians! We want the Eyetalians to like us!"
Although I couldn't see my face, I felt it turn green at the thought of the breakfast. Kurt's head drooped even lower as he braced his elbows on the table. "Do we have a problem here!" Mrs. Wilty barked as she stopped at our table. A feeble head shake No was all I could muster.
The breakfast plates were placed before us, a light brown moat of grease coagulating around each egg. I knew I could not eat it, although Mrs. Wilty was going from table to table to be sure everyone was finishing their breakfast. "Eat! Eat!" she admonished.
"Eat! Ea....ow!" she squealed and jumped before she stopped dead in her tracks and drew her hands over her rear end. Her mouth, outlined in that bright red lip color, made a perfect O.
The elderly lady with the cane slowly retracted it from whacking Mrs. Wilty's behind. Now she used that same cane to point to Mrs. Wilty. "You-eh," she said as she narrowed her eyes at the teacher. "Be-eh nice. Just-eh be-eh NICE." Her friends nodded in agreement and punctuated her words with rapid Italian assents. She held her stare and jabbed the cane once more at Mrs. Wilty. "Be-eh nice."
I am far removed from my 17 year old self in age and behavior, and I'm sure the elderly woman has long departed, but her voice still rings true. Be-eh nice. Just-eh be-eh NICE.
Showing posts with label field trips. Show all posts
Showing posts with label field trips. Show all posts
Friday, May 10, 2013
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
Riding on the Boy Bus
It had to happen. Just as when you haven't been picked for jury duty for years, and the summons is on its way in the mail... it's that little feeling that tickles at the base of your skull, near the pituitary, and works its way up. Your turn's next.
I had that feeling before I even got to the buses. On larger field trips, the students are separated by gender: boys on one bus, girls on the other. The girl bus is rank with privilege: good smells, lady-like laughter, and enjoyable conversation about shoes, makeup and clothes. The boy bus is...well...jammed with 13 and 14 year old boys. On this field trip to visit area universities, I drew the boy bus. My turn had finally found me.
I love my male students and female students equally. I enjoy the direct communication style of boys; their take charge attitudes, and their budding gentlemanliness. But the boy bus is...well...the boy bus. I was to be the only female on board this day on a lengthy field trip. I had some misgivings, but I pasted on a smile, even as I glimpsed my colleagues jovially laughing on the girl bus, and resolved to make the best of it.
I learned some things.
On the boy bus:
1. In your instructions to the boys as you are leaving the school, as you try to delicately broach the subject of controlling body odors (because of a prior bus incident found here) and fumble for words, the straightforward boys will understand when one raises his hand and says, "Oh, you mean for us not to fart too much?"
2. In preface to a question as to why a certain girl might act like she does, a boy across the aisle asks you, "You used to be a girl, right, Mrs. M.?"
3. The boy who is sitting immediately behind you begins his conversation with you like this, at approximately 30 decibels louder than normal conversation, "IgotupSUPERSUPERearlythismorning!Howhasyourmorningbeen?Huh?Huh?OMG!OMG!WearegoingtohaveSOSOSOmuchfunonthisfieldtrip!!!" You see three Venom drinks in his open backpack (super-caffeinated energy drinks) and the empty cans of another two. You pick up the three and hide them away.
4. The boys have won a behavior incentive and get to choose the radio station that will be playing on the bus stereo system. They have chosen a heavy metal station whose catchphrase is "Loud and Proud, 24/7" and covers even the 7:30 AM hour. The air guitars and air drums being played all over the bus do provide a respite of entertainment from the battering ram active inside your head.
5. As you near the first university, a faint odor whiffles past your nose. It is only moments later, though, when a runaway train of smells barrels through your sinuses. Behind watering eyes and a narrowing throat, you investigate and find at least 12 boys liberally spraying themselves, their arm pits, and even their shoes with all manner of manly body sprays and colognes. Hair gel is being passed around and all variations of spikes are coaxed from short hair styles. In answer to your choked inquiry as to why, they smile and one answers, "College girls!"
6. On the return trip, allow yourself to become an active participant in conversations about Hemi diesel engines, which rims are the best for a Ford F150 truck, and how much torque is required to really pull a trailer up the hill near the school. Wantonly sprinkle the conversation with words like head gasket and turbocharger without regard or knowledge as to even what part of speech they are.
7. You imagine you are swimming in a sea of testosterone while they talk excitedly about the newest line of Case tractors, the great scope one of the dads got for a hunting rifle, and why A-Rod costs his team too much money. Look at your cute shoes and let your mind longingly spin what you could have been talking about on the girl bus, all the while nodding your head and pretending to understand what they are talking about.
8. Smile when one boy tells you he's glad you rode the bus with them because, "You're cool!" and other boys nod, smile, say thank you, and express their appreciation on the way out of the bus.
The boy bus...is...well...maybe not so bad after all.
I had that feeling before I even got to the buses. On larger field trips, the students are separated by gender: boys on one bus, girls on the other. The girl bus is rank with privilege: good smells, lady-like laughter, and enjoyable conversation about shoes, makeup and clothes. The boy bus is...well...jammed with 13 and 14 year old boys. On this field trip to visit area universities, I drew the boy bus. My turn had finally found me.
I love my male students and female students equally. I enjoy the direct communication style of boys; their take charge attitudes, and their budding gentlemanliness. But the boy bus is...well...the boy bus. I was to be the only female on board this day on a lengthy field trip. I had some misgivings, but I pasted on a smile, even as I glimpsed my colleagues jovially laughing on the girl bus, and resolved to make the best of it.
I learned some things.
On the boy bus:
1. In your instructions to the boys as you are leaving the school, as you try to delicately broach the subject of controlling body odors (because of a prior bus incident found here) and fumble for words, the straightforward boys will understand when one raises his hand and says, "Oh, you mean for us not to fart too much?"
2. In preface to a question as to why a certain girl might act like she does, a boy across the aisle asks you, "You used to be a girl, right, Mrs. M.?"
3. The boy who is sitting immediately behind you begins his conversation with you like this, at approximately 30 decibels louder than normal conversation, "IgotupSUPERSUPERearlythismorning!Howhasyourmorningbeen?Huh?Huh?OMG!OMG!WearegoingtohaveSOSOSOmuchfunonthisfieldtrip!!!" You see three Venom drinks in his open backpack (super-caffeinated energy drinks) and the empty cans of another two. You pick up the three and hide them away.
4. The boys have won a behavior incentive and get to choose the radio station that will be playing on the bus stereo system. They have chosen a heavy metal station whose catchphrase is "Loud and Proud, 24/7" and covers even the 7:30 AM hour. The air guitars and air drums being played all over the bus do provide a respite of entertainment from the battering ram active inside your head.
5. As you near the first university, a faint odor whiffles past your nose. It is only moments later, though, when a runaway train of smells barrels through your sinuses. Behind watering eyes and a narrowing throat, you investigate and find at least 12 boys liberally spraying themselves, their arm pits, and even their shoes with all manner of manly body sprays and colognes. Hair gel is being passed around and all variations of spikes are coaxed from short hair styles. In answer to your choked inquiry as to why, they smile and one answers, "College girls!"
6. On the return trip, allow yourself to become an active participant in conversations about Hemi diesel engines, which rims are the best for a Ford F150 truck, and how much torque is required to really pull a trailer up the hill near the school. Wantonly sprinkle the conversation with words like head gasket and turbocharger without regard or knowledge as to even what part of speech they are.
7. You imagine you are swimming in a sea of testosterone while they talk excitedly about the newest line of Case tractors, the great scope one of the dads got for a hunting rifle, and why A-Rod costs his team too much money. Look at your cute shoes and let your mind longingly spin what you could have been talking about on the girl bus, all the while nodding your head and pretending to understand what they are talking about.
8. Smile when one boy tells you he's glad you rode the bus with them because, "You're cool!" and other boys nod, smile, say thank you, and express their appreciation on the way out of the bus.
The boy bus...is...well...maybe not so bad after all.
Friday, September 2, 2011
How to Entertain Your Teacher on a Field Trip
Dude, listen up. If you're a teenager going on a field trip, especially a 13 hour one, here are some cool things you can do to entertain your teachers. Those teachers work hard for you, and they deserve some fun in their lives.
1. In the dark hours of the morning before the sun has come up, open the sack lunch your mom made for you. Pry open the sandwich, see that it is tuna, decide you don't want it, and stick the sandwich under your seat. Later on in the day, when the temperature is over 100 and the bus air conditioner has quit working, your teacher will have a great time searching for what is creating that crazy smell.
2. With a group of your friends, sing The Lazy Song by Bruno Mars over and over and over and over and over again until it sticks so well in your teachers' brains they cannot get it out of their heads and are haunted by it. They need good music in their lives, too.
3. Especially if you are male, engage your other male classmates in a silent-but-deadly fart off contest. It is automatic disqualification if any one makes a noise with it. Your teacher will appreciate you keeping those around you quiet.
3. In the restroom of the museum, wait until your teacher is fully engaged in her stall. Then, loudly yell out, "OMG! Annie just walked out of the museum with a strange man!" Annie is your best friend in the 8th grade and you don't want to see harm come to her. When your teacher bolts out of the bathroom stall, wild-eyed, and Annie walks out of another stall in the bathroom, just shrug and say, "Oops, my bad. Must have been someone else." Teachers need more excitement in their lives.
4. In the middle of a freeway you and your class are having to cross on foot in one of the largest cities in the U.S., stop in the center of the freeway, place your folder between your knees and take your jacket off to readjust it. Move slowly when your teacher implores you to hurry. Your rural upbringing has made you savvy to the ways of traffic in large cities and you want your teacher to know you are mature enough to handle it.
5. Repeatedly motion to passing 18 wheelers to honk their loud diesel horns. This will break up the monotony of a quiet bus and your teacher will appreciate you keeping it lively.
6. If a classmate in the back of the bus throws up in the aisle, stare at it as it sloshes past long enough so that you throw up, as well. Your teacher will be happy that her lesson about empathy for others has taken hold in your heart.
7. When your bus driver drops your group off at a Jack in the Box that is a gathering place for scary/homeless/tranny/crackheads, smile widely at some of the citizens therein while your teachers organize the back of the line. When one approaches you and begins talking nonsense, remember your teacher's admonition to you not to talk to strangers. Reach in your backpack and find the information paper on the field trip you were supposed to have given your mom, you know, the one with your teacher's personal cell phone number on it. Give it to the crackhead tranny, because this person probably just wants information on your trip.
8. Later, on the bus ride home, when your teacher's cell phone rings and she becomes agitated, hangs up, and asks who gave a crackhead her phone number, let her know that it is probably the cool person you met at the Jack in the Box. She's been teaching you all about characterization, and she will be happy that you found a very interesting person to write about.
9. Write a note of thanks to your teachers for taking you and your classmates on the field trip and get everyone to sign it. You've had a great day and you want them to know it.
10. Smile widely when you see how much it has melted their hearts.
1. In the dark hours of the morning before the sun has come up, open the sack lunch your mom made for you. Pry open the sandwich, see that it is tuna, decide you don't want it, and stick the sandwich under your seat. Later on in the day, when the temperature is over 100 and the bus air conditioner has quit working, your teacher will have a great time searching for what is creating that crazy smell.
2. With a group of your friends, sing The Lazy Song by Bruno Mars over and over and over and over and over again until it sticks so well in your teachers' brains they cannot get it out of their heads and are haunted by it. They need good music in their lives, too.
3. Especially if you are male, engage your other male classmates in a silent-but-deadly fart off contest. It is automatic disqualification if any one makes a noise with it. Your teacher will appreciate you keeping those around you quiet.
3. In the restroom of the museum, wait until your teacher is fully engaged in her stall. Then, loudly yell out, "OMG! Annie just walked out of the museum with a strange man!" Annie is your best friend in the 8th grade and you don't want to see harm come to her. When your teacher bolts out of the bathroom stall, wild-eyed, and Annie walks out of another stall in the bathroom, just shrug and say, "Oops, my bad. Must have been someone else." Teachers need more excitement in their lives.
4. In the middle of a freeway you and your class are having to cross on foot in one of the largest cities in the U.S., stop in the center of the freeway, place your folder between your knees and take your jacket off to readjust it. Move slowly when your teacher implores you to hurry. Your rural upbringing has made you savvy to the ways of traffic in large cities and you want your teacher to know you are mature enough to handle it.
5. Repeatedly motion to passing 18 wheelers to honk their loud diesel horns. This will break up the monotony of a quiet bus and your teacher will appreciate you keeping it lively.
6. If a classmate in the back of the bus throws up in the aisle, stare at it as it sloshes past long enough so that you throw up, as well. Your teacher will be happy that her lesson about empathy for others has taken hold in your heart.
7. When your bus driver drops your group off at a Jack in the Box that is a gathering place for scary/homeless/tranny/crackheads, smile widely at some of the citizens therein while your teachers organize the back of the line. When one approaches you and begins talking nonsense, remember your teacher's admonition to you not to talk to strangers. Reach in your backpack and find the information paper on the field trip you were supposed to have given your mom, you know, the one with your teacher's personal cell phone number on it. Give it to the crackhead tranny, because this person probably just wants information on your trip.
8. Later, on the bus ride home, when your teacher's cell phone rings and she becomes agitated, hangs up, and asks who gave a crackhead her phone number, let her know that it is probably the cool person you met at the Jack in the Box. She's been teaching you all about characterization, and she will be happy that you found a very interesting person to write about.
9. Write a note of thanks to your teachers for taking you and your classmates on the field trip and get everyone to sign it. You've had a great day and you want them to know it.
10. Smile widely when you see how much it has melted their hearts.
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