| Between Classes |
| I'm Phat! |
| by Randy Wm. Clark |
| Teacher finds relating to student lingo not so easy... |
It was January of 1982. My eighth grade year in junior high school could not have been better. My hair was parted down the middle and “feathered” back on the sides. All the hot men had their hair styled that way. My silk disco shirt was unbuttoned to my navel to expose the four chest hairs I’d recently cultivated. A pound of gold chains adorned my neck much like that of “Mr. T”. I even had a chick in the seventh grade. I knew everything in the world there was to know. The lingo, the talk of the local scene, the jive. Man, were those the days.
Cut to December 2005. I now sit in that same junior high not as a student but as an educator. Actually it’s more than that. Also a father, mother, psychologist, referee, drug counselor, interpreter of rap, warden, and birth control advocate. How the times have changed. How did I transform from a hip, hot, and now sorta guy who knew everything into a blundering idiot who apparently neither knows, understands, nor comprehends a thing?
Today’s lesson is in reference to creating a state Constitution in U.S. History class. My objective is to aide the kids in creating a branch of Government that will not be too powerful. I begin the lesson as I always do. Checking my plan book, inserting a breath mint, making sure the fly is zipped, and finally greeting the boy/girl class, of seventeen, with something educationally humorous to keep their attention for the next forty-five minutes.
“He dudes… you know what? At one time, I dated all of the Spice Girls at once. They named me “Old Spice!” ……. Silence ……. Not a grin. Not the slightest crack of a smile. I’d bombed. Quite possibly, I’d have to revert to my former “Civil War quotes of the day”. And then it hit me. I was not in tune. I needed to relate to these kids, get a tattoo, something pierced and learn their vocabulary. And that I did.
I found out I’m fat. Actually, I’m “phat” which isn’t overweight at all. It means they like me. Ashley even referred to me as a hottie! I’m also a “homey”. No, I’m not homely. It means I’m one with them. Like a kid, young in looks, actions and flair. Remember “Welcome Back Kotter?” I guess I’m quite like him. Cool! I knew I was already a “Dude” and could figure out what a “Dudette” was. I told Ashley she was one cool, phat, dudette. She informed me she was “kewl”, cool. Apparently in my pronunciation she picked up the misspelling. Did you know that “queer” isn’t queer at all and “retarded” is a common thing for many folks? Even those folks without a disability? Apparently, Luke really gets around. He’s a “Horn Dog”. A little carbon copy of myself so many years ago. Ok, I can dream can’t I? Sometimes they “gots” to go to the bathroom and my class is “funner” that math. If I don’t assign any homework they have “nuffin”. Man was this great stuff!
It was then that they educated me in reference to grammar, spelling and writing. “OMG, …The British are coming…the British are coming!”… hollered from the Old North Church by Paul Revere in Boston. Translated, “Oh my God, the British are coming!” Robbie asked about his last exam and the fact that he’d gotten so many questions incorrect. He pulled the paper from his backpack and read a question aloud to me. “Where was the Philadelphia Convention organized?” Robbie answered … “in a really big and old building…. JK …” apparently, “JK” means “Just Kidding!” I had no right to mark that incorrect, nor any other of his forty - nine answers with “JK” at the end because he was only joking about his responses. How terribly stupid of me.
Well, I “GTG”, I have cafeteria duty and today we’re playing music by some “Snoopy, Snoopy Dog” guy and “Twist Your Sister”. Yesterday they wanted to know if I had ever heard of the new rock bands “AC/DC” and “Aerosmith”!
Randy Wm. Clark
Mr. Clark is an educator in Maine.
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