Peaceful, Easy Feeling

Sometimes such simple things make me really really happy. This evening, I sat on my patio, eating a popsicle, reading a textbook and watching my dog play. The sun was setting, and for a few brief moments, I really felt peaceful. It was the first time in my life that I remember not having a nervous knot in my stomach without being high. For a few beautiful, tranquil moments, I knew peace. Then, of course, the inbred goatfuckers down the road had to ruin my zen-ness with firecrackers and drunken laughter... I remember why I don't own a gun.

I miss getting high- that's probably the biggest sacrifice I've made for my teaching. However, the desire is part of what makes me more reliable than the drug-sniffing dog they bring through the schools now and then. I can walk by a locker and tell you if there's green refreshments in it from a foot away! One of my kids last year would show up high, we all knew it, but no one could prove a thing. Coincidentally, the stoners and skaters all seem to like me best, so I was elected to talk to him. After a long conversation with the principal, where I was cautioned not to accuse him of anything, and a lot of other legal bullshit, I was trusted to talk with this young man. I laugh at the wording that they want me to use; "it has been brought to my attention that you have been having some difficulty with concentration lately..." Christ, if I said that to him, he'd think I was wearing a wire and never open his mouth! So, I get him in the conference room, and I ask him what's up? He looks at me knowingly- "he's been expecting this conversation", I think. He smiles and assures me nothing is up. Disregarding everything the principal has just said, I get in his face and say, "Don't give me that crap. Do I LOOK stupid? I have eyes and a nose that work very well, and I KNOW what's up". He stops smiling; I rarely get mad at the kids, so for me to get serious like that is a big deal. He assures me that everything is under control, which I disagree with. We talk back and forth for two class periods, me explaining the damage he is doing to his body, him maintaining that "it's no big deal". Finally, I think he got sick of my voice (I know I was sick of hearing it), and he agreed to speak with the counselor and tell his parents. He asked me to sit in when his parents came- that's an awkward situation, but I did it. As it turns out, he was not only using, but was also the second biggest dealer in the high school! Who knew? Anyway, as the other teachers were congratulating me on a great job, I felt like such a fucking hypocrite- if I could, I would have gone home and smoked a joint right then!