Fried-day again.

Yes, it's the last day of the work week. (And there was much rejoicing.) I'm halfway through my day, and holding my breath that the rest of it just goes by peacefully. I'm pleased to say that the chaos in my classroom is decreasing, bit by tiny bit. My students are learning that I am the boss and that they need to mind me. I've made dozens of phone calls, sent kids to the principal, you name it. And still my seventh period class talks. About nothing at all. About each others' mamas and how fat yo mama is. You know, the really important stuff. He stole my pencil, I don't like her. I finally just looked at a kid the other day and said, "I am not your babysitter." Yeah, that's rising above and disciplining well. Argh. Sometimes they just get to me. Anyone else want to parent 124 seventh graders?

On Wednesday we prayed in the morning for a breakthrough of some kind. I just couldn't take it any more! I got to school and asked if we could do some rearranging of my classes. I have three honors classes in the morning-- all small, less than 20 kids each, and three low level classes in the afternoon-- all huge, 30 or more kids each. So, I asked, could we combine the three small honors classes into two larger classes, since they're the well behaved urchins? And then split my three huge, nasty classes into four more manageable classes? Sure, said my guidance counselor. Thank heaven for Ann. She has been a huge help. So Ann did Part A of my request-- combining the three small into two larger classes. That was a great answer to prayer!

Thursday: enter more chefs, and the broth gets spoiled. According to other administrators, since other teachers are struggling with 45 and 50 kids per class, my problems were too small and I was given another class to fill the class period that was vacated when my three became two. I understand and am sympathetic to those teachers, but this was not the kind of breakthrough I had in mind.

Thursday afternoon: Ann apologized for not being able to hold to her word and split up my nasty kids. She also said she had found another class to put some of my kids to relieve me. Bless her.

Now it's Friday. We'll see what happens this afternoon-- if they kids are actually gone and we have some empty seats, I can put Quantavious and Dejon in opposite corners and get Johnny to close his everloving flapper. That is, if Sabrina and Quayshonda will stay separated, and Shala will stop flirting with Chris while I review Rounding Decimals.

Not that I'm frustrated with them or anything.

Next door is a veteran teacher of 30 some years from the northeast. I love his Boston-ish accent as it reminds me of my dad. However, Veteran Teacher is secretly known by me as Old Yeller. He keeps order, or tries to, by yelling angrily at kids. My class heard it through the wall yesterday and looked at me with wide eyes. I said, yes, you know it. You misbehave, and I'm sending you to his class. They were angels for a bit.

Old Yeller has his fine points as well. He has been a huge help in getting me acclimated to the school. He teaches many sections of the class I just was given, so he offered to give me his lesson plans daily so that I don't have extra work to do. That is a huge blessing. Except that I just learned that he doesn't really follow the rules of the district, so I shouldn't do what he does.

Do you see how everything is a warbled, tangled, spiral, chaotic mess? Up and down, up and down. Hope and despair, hope and despair. Stay or Red Lobster, stay or Red Lobster.

I'm seeing how this kind of economically depressed area is the enemy's playland. He has these kids living broke, poorly-parented, and hopeless lives. What better to ruin them with, my dear? They have little to no desire to learn or better themselves, and many won't live to see 18.

I'm beginning to see my role here. Dear friend Meg reminded me last night of God's heart for the poor, that He loves them and shows it over and over in the Bible. She also reminded me that when we care for the poor we are very close to God's heart, which is why I think I've been feeling so closely led by Him. I think my job is just to intercede for these kids and war for their souls.

My extraordinarily supportive and sweet husband apologized that he didn't make enough money to let me stay home. I told him that even if he earned a million dollars a day, God would still make me work here. There's a plan in all of this. Thanks for reading all of this, and thanks for your prayers, friends. They are making a huge difference in my spirit and in my classroom. Please keep them coming.

Tonight or tomorrow I'll post the latest wildlife adventures. Keep your eyes open for the snake in the street and turtle in the driveway.