Bathroom Break

I stepped out of my classroom and overheard the following from another teacher: "Let's pretend we are in the Underground Railroad."

Ok... What is Dorothy doing now and how long until she and her class are out of the hallway? My own 4th graders were restless and antsy to go to recess, which was to begin after their afternoon bathroom break.

But upon checking to make sure the hallway was clear, I found Dorothy, my 3rd grade co-worker, sternly monitoring her own group, keeping them in line and in check with her "Underground Railroad" simulation.

"You got to be quiet or you get caught, and I don't wanna get caught," she barked as she moved up and down their line. "And if you get caught (indicating one student), you all get caught (indicating the rest of the class)--and then you got killed," she added matter-of-factly.

I had to turn away and chuckled quietly at that point. She was too much! But I give her class credit. They stood quietly in order, waiting for the rest of their classmates to finish thier bathroom break and rejoin the Railroad.

You see, these are the extremes we teachers are forced into when we work in an environment that demands militant discipline, lest one be considered an ineffective teacher who lacks classroom control. Granted, Dorothy took some creative liberty with her "Underground Railroad" approach on how to behave in the hallway, but it seemed to be working. No one moved,talked or even looked around. The students had been somewhat scared into submission.

But then, as is usually the case, one of her kids pushed his luck and made a goofy noise. We've all got that one kid. I knew this was coming; I think that's why I stuck around in my doorway.

Dorothy walked up to the noise-maker, slowly and deliberately. She bent down and spoke to him up close and personal, right at his level. "You know Harriet Tubman?" she said, looking him dead in the eye. "See, she led a bunch of slaves to freedom on the Underground Raildroad. But if they gave her trouble, she put a pistol in their face and said, 'I shoot you myself!'"

Then Dorothy stood straight up and walked away. "Like I said," she continued as she patrolled the kids,"I don't wanna get caught."

Damn...now I had to leave the hallway altogether. I couldn't laugh in front of her class, so I went back into my room and laughed in front of mine. "What's so funny?" they asked. What could I say? And yet, one of the girls near the doorway, one of Dorothy's former students, had overheard enough so that she had a clue. She said, "Hey, I wanna play that game that Ms. W is playin'."

"What game?" I asked.

"You know, the 'Underground Railroad' game."

"Oh, she's not playing," I answered. "Ms. W is pretty darn serious about them being quiet in the hall."

As I finally lined up my class for their long-awaited bathroom break, I heard Dorothy down the hall, now at her own doorway, still reprimanding that one noisy kid. "Oh, you want me to get caught, don't you?" was the last thing I heard her say. Lucky for him, he'd reached the safety of his classroom. In Railroad terms, that's the school equivalent of the Ohio border. Lucky too, that Ms. W wasn't packin' that day.