Snickers
Friday, 28th November, 2008
I have been a poker pro for over three years now. I still enjoy it very much and am happy that I left my teaching job, but there are some things about teaching that I miss.
My first teaching job was at a high school in St. Paul. It is a very unique school in that it has high need kids on both ends of the spectrum. The school offers a great deal of IB courses which draw some of the best students around, but the school also draws many students from a poor area of St. Paul. There are students with no money and no family support who have it very rough, and there are students who come from very well off families who chose this school for its advanced academic programs. Everyone needs attention of some form at this school.
The school was also quite ethnically diverse. I think every race was a minority, which made it a really interesting place. I never had an issue with anyone ever caring what color anyone else was. If they wanted to beat your ass, it was because of something you did, not because of what color you were.
I was offered this job on the first day of school. It was my first job, and they were clearly desperate. I showed up on the 2nd day of school not knowing a damn thing. I didn’t know what I was teaching. I didn’t know where anything was. I didn’t even know how to take attendance. I was just going to try to survive.
My students slowly filed in for 1st hour. It was physics, so they were mostly juniors and seniors, and thus somewhat more mature and subdued.
“Are you a sub?”, I was asked. They had a sub the previous day, so they assumed I was just another sub. I am sure I looked like one, as I clearly had no clue. I explained to them that I was their “real” teacher, and attempted to take attendance.
I glanced down the list of names and quickly realized that I was going to be in huge trouble. There is a large Hmong population in St. Paul, and this list had names like Xiong and Gao and Nguyen on it. I was a white kid from Wisconsin. I had no idea how to pronounce any of these names, much less what Hmong even was. Wonderful. I’m gonna die up here.
I struggle through a few names and come upon one that I know I won’t butcher.
Isaac, Diane
“Diane Isaac?”
“Call me Snickers!!!” is the response I get from a rather large black gal in the middle of the room.
“You’re Diane?”
“Yeah, but everyone calls me Snickers.”
My initial thought was, “There is no way in holy hell that I am ever calling you Snickers, DIANE.”
This was it. I had to take a stand or they were going to run me into the ground and the year was going to be hell. I was ready to say something. What that was I am not sure, but then I realized that no one was laughing or acting like this was absurd. I scanned the room somewhat confused, and caught the eye of another black gal (her name was Tyshanna) sitting in the front row. She gave me a look that said, “Yup, everyone calls her Snickers. It’s no big deal.” Tyshanna almost seemed to empathize with my plight. I fully expected that every name I called from that point forward would be followed by a request to be called by some ridiculous nickname. It did not happen. There were nicknames like Liz for Elizabeth and Mike for Michael, but that is where it ended. Snickers was the only weird one. And everyone called her Snickers. Everyone. Even the principal. It simply was who she was.
As the year progressed, Snickers became one of my favorites. She was bright, worked extremely hard and was just a great kid.
A lot of what we did was problem solving. I’d introduce a concept, do a few examples, and then give them problems to work out in small groups. I’d walk around and give them hints when needed. I used to carry around a meter stick that was broken in half as I did this. I have no idea why, I just did.
One day after giving them a few problems to work out, I made my rounds and came upon Snickers, Tyshanna and another of their friends. They hadn’t quite gotten into work-mode yet, so I needed to threaten them. I could do that at this point.
“Snickers, are you going to get going on this, or am I going to have to paddle your behind with this stick?”
“You’re gonna need a bigger stick if you wanna paddle my behind.”