Getting to Know Each Other--Dec 2014

[falstius]

I've got a PhD, but so does almost everyone else I know so it doesn't really feel like a big deal. I think the one I brag about the most is that my work is (a small) part of the ATLAS detector at CERN which has maybe found the Higg's Boson. I've always thought of myself as a scientist though so I'm really proud of over coming my non-athletic youth and biking across Switzerland and down through Tuscany to the Mediterranean.

 

I know talespinner said no kids, but I'm also very happy with this little guy http://forum.reapermini.com/index.php?/topic/16800-reaper-baby-pictures/?p=940199

Edited December 5, 2014 by falstius

[Jokemeister]

Question 27: What personal accomplishment of yours are you most proud of (kids don't count)?

 

This is the kind of question I would dread in interviews and which I hate having to deal with every year during my performance review.  In a corporate environment, I've learned to lie and talk up my achievements.

 

I absolutely detest this question - but you are about to get the honest answer that I normally never give out (adv of internet anonymity and all that!).

 

The reality is that, while many things I do aren't bad - I honestly can't say that I'm legitimately proud of anything I have done.  And this isn't just due to a false sense of humility.  I look at everything I have done and I can see all the areas where I made a mistake or where something could have gone better if I had a bit more intelligence/foresight/planning etc etc etc.  Every accomplishment I have seems to be marred by something which stops me from enjoying it.

 

For example, other people talked about their accomplishment of getting a degree.  My accomplishment here was marred by some personal motivation issues I had in my final year which meant that I really didn't enjoy my final year and couldn't wait to get into the workforce.

 

I don't even have the excuse of having had a rough life.  My life is, and has always been, boring and sedentary - which is actually the way I like it.  I'm very much a creature of habit and have zero interest in going on wild adventures (obv, this doesn't apply to my imagination).

 

Maybe that's what I should be proud of - the fact that my life is boring and sedentary.  Seems a strange thing to be proud of though.

[Flamehawke]

Can also be something to be proud of. There are people who would love to have boring sedentary lives.

[Colonel Kane]

I have to rule out the five biggest??? 4 kids and the fact the oldest is an adult is flaming awesome.......

Other than those have written two articles for a fanzine call a rave the Labyrinth by Small Niche Games. While not large they so how creative I think I can be. I have more in the works and I have also stared a super secret project that I have only shared with three other people. It is creative and very ambitious of me. I hope to have it done in a year or so and then I'll see where I'll go from there.

[dsmiles]

Question 27: What personal accomplishment of yours are you most proud of (kids don't count)?

Um...things. That I have accomplished. That I am proud of. Yeah, those things.

[MarkA]

Hummm it would either be completing my dissertation or, as a therapist, helping people to intrinsically make desired changes in their lives.

[Dr.Bedlam]

When a student comes out successful.

An example: (Cut and pasted from its original posting)
 

All because Subway's credit card machine was dead.

 

It wasn't a bad day at work, as days go, but I just wasn't on my game that day. Bleh.

 

So when it finally came time to exit, I decided I was due a treat. Decided to stop at Subway on the way home, get my favorite: teriyaki chicken twelve inch with sweet onion sauce, lots of baby spinach, bell peppers, banana peppers, olives, lettuce, and triple onions. Mmmmm. Like a salad, but in a sandwich! And I knew disappointment when I pulled up in front of the place and saw the hand lettered sign, CREDIT CARD AND DEBIT MACHINE BROKEN CASH ONLY SORRY FOR THE INCONVENIENCE.

 

Well, booger. My mouth is set now. Where to eat? I glanced around. Mamacita's? No, I want something to take home. Wendy's? Bleh. Schlotzky's? Neh. Fatso's BBQ? 

 

...mmm... not what I would have thought of first... but if I get take out, I can get all the free onions and pickles I want. It's not a salad sandwich, but barbecue's good. And it's cheap! So I swung over and parked.

 

Ordered a couple of sandwiches and fries. The young lady trotted off to get my order... and left a young black guy standing at the counter staring at me. Weirdly. In a way that kind of weirded me out. Until he noticed my casual day T-shirt and asked, "You worked at Pseudonymous Middle School?"

 

I looked at his face again. He DID look familiar... I glanced at his ID badge: MICHAEL

 

...and then it hit me: MICHAL.... pronounced "Michael." I'd first heard that name from years earlier. He was one of my first classes of kids, back when I'd first started working Special Ed, behavior unit. I remembered his name, too. At my first Parent Night, Michal's mom had screamed it in my face.

 

"His name is MICHAL, and there ain't no [expletive deleted] E in it!" she had snarled loudly, all WAY up in my face. "All them OTHER Michaels have E's. This one DOES NOT, and you better RECOGNIZE!"

 

I had made no issue of Michal's name. Considering some of the bizarre things parents name their children, Michal was no trouble. Hell, the longer I teach, the more I wonder if some of them specifically do that just to mess with everyone who will have to deal with their child; we get some with names specifically spelled in such a way as to be unpronounceable on the first bounce... I've had kids who had names like "John," but spelled it "Terhorski." But apparently, Mom has dealt with enough people who tried to tell her how to spell "Michael" that she feels a tad hostile in advance to the likes of me.

 

I was wrong, of course. That's just how Mike's mom dealt with her fellow human beings. With hate, aggression, and a barely leashed viciousness that led most people to back the hell off because she seethed with hate, aggression, and barely leashed viciousness.  Oh, she also didn't like anyone calling him "Mike." His name was MICHAL, [expletive deleted x3]! 

 

Found out later that she'd discovered he LIKED being called "Mike," and beat the doggy doodle out of him with a belt for it. His name was MICHAL, [expletive deleted of great intensity]! And you better TELL those other boys that your name is MICHAL! WITH NO [expletive deleted] "E!" AND I BETTER NOT EVER HEAR YOU SAY OTHERWISE!

 

I did fine with Michal. He wasn't really a behavior kid. He was in there because his MOM wanted him there, because he was SUCH A ROTTEN, MISBEHAVING, BAD LITTLE BOY!

 

When I worked psych, we had lots of kids like that. "He MUST be bad," the parent would say, "because he is ALWAYS doing things that I have to BEAT him for!" There are a surprising number of parents who simply do not understand your basic child. Even worse, there are a surprising number of parents who simply assume that beating the doggy doodle out of the child with a belt or paddle or whatever is the default answer to any factor of the child that one does not like. Like making noise, being goofy, acting like a child, or in some cases, having the wrong father, breathing too heavily, having feelings, or simply existing improperly.

 

We had fun with Michal's mom his eighth grade year. You see, I have to submit periodic evaluation forms on all my kids. When I worked the Behavior Unit, one of the basic ones was "what's the kid done lately?" How has he misbehaved?" Michal's problem was that he almost never acted out. Ever. He was fraggin' angelic next to the other kids I had. Furthermore, he had no academic difficulties; he was actually pretty sharp. And that made my job harder. I was geared to stupid, poisonous children, or kids with psych difficulties. Much as I liked Michal, he simply did not belong in my class, and there was no reason he couldn't cut it in the regular ed classes.

 

So I said so. Finally, the department called a meeting, and we pulled him from the Behavior Unit.

 

His mother about popped an O-ring. 

 

We went through a month long period where me, the principal, the secretaries, and the campus cop literally evolved a drill every time that woman set foot on campus, and she did so at least twice a week. Procedure called for her to check in at the office and get a visitor badge. Oh, HELL no, Michal's Mom could not be bothered with THAT! No, no, she'd wander in the front door and:

 

(a) Launch a frontal assault on the principal in her office... regardless of who else might be in there. Michal's Mom did not wait. Or make appointments. Or anything but storm the hell in and begin her strident speech, usually peppered liberally with expletives not normally permitted on the Reaper boards.

 

(b) Hunt through the building until she found Michal, and then drag him out of class to scream at him in the hallway for whatever transgression she'd discovered since he left the house that morning.

 

© Invade the Special Ed office, regardless of who was in there or what was going on, and howl and froth at the department head, secretary, or anyone handy. Including, once, another parent who did not work for the district and came durn close to decking her.

 

(d) Stride into my classroom like she owned it, terminating any teaching, education, or anything else until such time as her grievance had been addressed, or I had simply listened to her rant for a while.

 

All of these eventually resulted in a nearby person running to and hitting the nearest panic button. The intercom would come on, the secretary in the main office would immediately realize that Mrs. Mike had gotten in, and the cop would be summoned and sent to collect her. She'd scream and holler and argue with any administrator, but she would actually OBEY the COP. She wouldn't SHUT UP, but she would at least motivate towards the door or the front office, spouting and foaming the whole time. 

 

One of the more interesting incidents came when she stormed into my room that month to launch into the now-familiar complaint that we COULD NOT simply shuffle her son into any classes we thought appropriate, that SHE WAS THE PARENT AND SHE HAD RIGHTS, and I countered by blocking her way and moving towards the door, maneuvering her into the hall. By now, the kids knew the drill, and Michal got up to go hit the panic button.

 

"OH YOU WILL NOT!" she screamed at Michal. "I WILL BEAT YOUR WORTHLESS [butt] WHEN YOU GET HOME!"

 

"Ma'am," I said, much more calmly than I felt, "you have just threatened your child in front of a public school teacher. By law, I must now contact Child Protective Services and report this incident."

 

"YOU CAN'T DO THAT! HE IS MY BOY! I HAVE THE RIGHT TO DISCIPLINE MY BOY!"

 

"The fact remains, ma'am, that I must contact CPS and report this. If I do not, I could go to jail."

 

"I WILL SUE YOUR WORTHLESS [butt] AND THIS WHOLE [expletive deleted] SCHOOL INTO HELL AND GONE!"

 

"That is your privilege, ma'am. But now I must call CPS and report this incident. As well as your entering my classroom and screaming profanity."

 

If looks could kill, I'd have been powder, right then and there. By this time, I had her into the hall, though, and round the corner came the cop and one of the veeps, at a jog. 

 

*************************************

 

And here he was, working at Fatso's Barbecue. Nineteen years old. We had a nice little chat. He wasn't living at home any more; crashing on a friend's couch, kicking in on the bills, and saving money. He was most of the way through his degree! "That's right, gonna be a twenty year old with a DEGREE!" he crowed. Just making money until he could afford to jump back in and leap through those last few hoops. It was good to see him. I can't take credit for his success. Only thing I ever did that was any good for him was getting him out of my class. But it still felt good.

 

The girl came back with my food, and we shook hands, and I paid and left. I noticed on the way out that his badge read MICHAEL.

 

Not MICHAL. 

 

MICHAEL.

 

And as I write, I wonder: did Fatso's misprint his badge? Or did he finally tell his mother to go to hell? Kind of wish I'd asked....

[pcktlnt]

*clap clap* Dr. Bedlam. 

[Talae]

Thanks for the story, Dr. Bedlam.

 

I have a number of stories that I could tell that showcase why teaching middle school is my proudest accomplishment, but I will just leave it at: some kids come to school needing more than academics. Helping with that has been something that helps to make sure I feel human on a regular basis. I wouldn't trade it for the world.

[TaleSpinner]

Well done Doc.  Made my night.

 

Sorry about the no kids thing.  You can talk about your kids, I was just really looking for something more you; otherwise, I feared we'd all gush about our kids.

 

 

 

My answer to 27

 

Having her accepted by Reaper was kind of a watershed moment for me.  Even though they'd produced minis of mine before her, sculpting a woman was like leveling up.

[ShadowRaven]

Doc, I love your stories, but that one. Damn man, that was something. Because of the topic I KNEW it would end awesome, but I was on the edge of my seat.

 

A for me, I don't have any one thing I am really super proud about. I've got a lot of little things that I have a bit of pride in. Most of them revolve around being that person who just listens when peoples lives, or even just their days are going down the crapper, I've been that guy who just listens when they need to talk. It's a small thing, but it pleases me.

[falstius]

...

Sorry about the no kids thing.  You can talk about your kids, I was just really looking for something more you; otherwise, I feared we'd all gush about our kids.

You were totally right to prohibit kids, since I think most parents would feel guilty not listing them and these way we get a better diversity of answers.  But, rules are meant to be bent.

[Dr.Bedlam]

So... Talae said basically the same thing I did, but without my usual rambling and digressing and yammering. Concise, and to the point.

I don't mean to bash parents. Most parents do fine, if not better. But ghod help you, in Special Needs, I think you meet every human in your vicinity who should have had to take a test or pay a fee or beat Death at chess or something before being allowed to be responsible for a little human. Helluvit is that every so often, I tell that story (or others like it, with the names changed to protect the guilty), and people look at me and laugh and say, "Dang, Doc, you sure can spin the hooey with the best of them. NO ONE is THAT bad! But it's a funny story!"

No, I'm here to tell you that's not even the craziest parent I had to deal with in my time. But there's Talae, and there's me, and quite a few others, doing our durndest for the kids' sake.

I'm also very pleased with how my daughter turned out, but I'll be concise about that, and shuddup before I get embarrassing...

Edited December 5, 2014 by Dr.Bedlam

[ShadowRaven]

No Doc, I know exactly what you mean. A relative of mine used to work front desk at a police station. They had a pair of persons who had a child together once. They where under court orders to exchange the child at the police station because they where unable to coexist peacefully in the same place long enough to hand the kid over and say 'see you next week' without causing a scene that I was given to understand nearly turned to violence on more than one occasion. There are some people that really are a waste of gravity

[Talae]

So... Talae said basically the same thing I did, but without my usual rambling and digressing and yammering. Concise, and to the point.

 

I don't mean to bash parents. Most parents do fine, if not better. But ghod help you, in Special Needs, I think you meet every human in your vicinity who should have had to take a test or pay a fee or beat Death at chess or something before being allowed to be responsible for a little human. Helluvit is that every so often, I tell that story (or others like it, with the names changed to protect the guilty), and people look at me and laugh and say, "Dang, Doc, you sure can spin the hooey with the best of them. NO ONE is THAT bad! But it's a funny story!"

 

No, I'm here to tell you that's not even the craziest parent I had to deal with in my time. But there's Talae, and there's me, and quite a few others, doing our durndest for the kids' sake.

 

I'm also very pleased with how my daughter turned out, but I'll be concise about that, and shuddup before I get embarrassing...

I was actually going to type a story and decided it would not add to the conversation as much as it would take away from the overall point. We both care for the kids we teach.

 

Just today, one told me she would be evicted tonight. I let her sleep in class. Another told me his parents let him know this morning that they are divorcing. He got an alternative assignment to do more drawing than writing. A third decided to eat a pen cap and dump rocks in my sink. This one I decided warranted a phone call. Alright, maybe that example doesn't belong. She is an odd one, though - that is for sure.

 

The perks of this job outweigh any downfalls.