FALLEN LEAVES

By Roger Esty

I talked about Southeast San Diego the other day and the local high school,Lincoln. It wasn't that big in terms of enrollment. I think it was fewer than a thousand. When I was trying to latch on to a permament position,I sustituted there for a week. Not an easy gig.

Being a substitue teacher isn't easy anyway. The kids look at you as raw meat. In Southest San Diego in the late 80's,if you were perceived as being weak...well you were food for the animals. Being cunning was a way to survive by that time. The neighborhood was being devoured by gangs, Valencia Paek,Eastside Pirus,Bloods and Crips. Wearing the "wrong"color socks could cost you your life.

The old Lincoln High at that time was a two story structure. My slot was on the bottom floor. I had an aide in my classroom. The subject was U.S. History. Luckily the aide was a young guy like myself that had the class more or less under control. I was glad he was in there. But I could feel the anxiety on the campus. The kids were rough and many of the teachers wanted out. Transfer papers were a daily topic of conversation in the teachers' lounge. Many of the teachers were downright afraid of showing up to work. One guy even showed me his.38 he had hidden inside his briefcase.

On my last day of my assignment I was teaching the class about the founding fathers and how our Constitution was there for everyone. I don't think those kids believed a word of it. As I was trying to speak above the class noise,I was looking out the window and saw books falling . We were on a split schedule so on my break I went upstairs to the room above mine to find out what was the matter.

There was this teacher. A young guy like myself...well maybe 40 years old. (He was in his first year I later found out.) The guy had his head down on the desk and he's sobbing like a baby. All the while the kids were tossing books out the window.
"What the hell is going on?" I yelled. The kids stopped and turned around. They stopped tossing the books out the window. I think they stopped because they ran out of books. Just then the bell rang and they left the classroom on their merry way. All this time the teacher was still sobbing. He couldn't gather himself.

I left him there like that. I didn't know what to do or say. In a way I felt sorry for him,but in a way I didn't. Sometimes in this profession they want you to handle it on your own. Not much sympathy from the rest of staff or the students.