OPEN FORUM: Bloody Battle In A CCSD Portable

By CRAIG HIGGENS

I think I was okay with this year up until I had to clean the blood off the whiteboard in the portable classroom where I work at a Las Vegas middle school.

The blood was from a fight that occurred on a Monday at the end of my sixth period, one period shy of the end of the day. Two girls in the class got into a fight because one called the other the ‘b-word.’ The offended party got up from her seat, said something to the effect of, ‘you don’t get to call me that’, and then proceed to pound on the other.

It was a pretty lopsided conflict. The girl who threw the first punch emerged without a scratch. The other had a map of gore trailing down the lower half of her face, along with a broken nose, concussion, and a full-set-of-teeth bite mark on her arm.

Afterwards, blood lay all over the portable: dark splatters on the carpet, splotches on my phone pocket and whiteboard, chunks caked on the metal clip underneath the board. Desks were scattered everywhere. A blood-soaked mask lay near the exit. I’ve seen bar fights that weren’t as bad.

That two teenagers could get into it like that disgusts me. Maybe because I grew up in a different generation.

Seventh period, I had to sub in another classroom, with no time to process what I’d just witnessed. There, a trio of girls watched footage of the fight on their phones, taken in the three-minute window I attempted to get the other students out of the room, then call for campus monitor assistance.

The girls in seventh period oohed and aahed at the way one of the combatants got the upper hand, like it was MMA. It’s like these kids see everything as just another spectacle, even when its their own classmates who are being put in the hospital. Video was out on Tik-Tok and the rest of the social media outlets these kids frequent by the next day, although realistically it was probably out there that afternoon: real-time in-school violence courtesy of the wonders of the internet, preserved for posterity.

After seventh period, I had to fill out a referral for my school, and a police report with CCSD police. Anybody who wants to defund the cops because of alleged racism or abuse has no idea of what it’s like to work in a portable classroom. As a teacher, you’re on an island, trying to manage upwards of forty kids or more, and that’s when they aren’t trying to kill each other.

The officer I spoke with suggested to administration I get a radio. Administration did not agree. Someone mentioned a white button attached to the wall underneath the intercom to call for assistance in the future. This was the first time in three years anyone told me what the button was used for.

I took one day off, then returned to work. My colleagues were impressed at my willingness to jump back in so quickly. Some thought I’d quit, and one even texted me, saying they would’ve stayed out for a week.

But I felt like my students have been through enough in the last eighteen months, what with COVID and distance learning and the constant turnover in our staff. The same week the fight happened in my room, we lost the office manager and a monitor to other schools. There are multiple openings across the skeletal staff, and no substitutes to take up the slack.

Some of my students didn’t see my actions in a positive light. A kid from one of my other sections described me as ‘helpless’ in the video. Others openly called me out on not separating the two. I tried to explain that CCSD is emphatic in its instructions regarding non-intervention in such situations, that there can be legalities involved, and that all that video they shot of the fight could be used to paint me as an abuser of one or more girls.

Judged by the yardstick of my peers, I’m brave for returning. By the schoolyard code, I’m apparently a coward who can’t guarantee the safety of my students from each other.

During the week, there were rumors of other fights, some of them planned with kids marching off in groups to the battlefield. I would imagine that stuff begins to fly, they’ll get out their phones, then make videos of themselves beating each other to a pulp, with a colorful upload to follow.

Friday came, and thirteen teachers called out sick. Thirteen, at a school that’s hemorrhaging teachers as fast as its students’ blood.

The girl who did most of the pounding on Monday said hi to me as she attempted to get to her first class. Administration quickly got her out pretty quickly, but just the fact that this individual was back on campus a few days after doing something that would put an adult behind bars is crazy all by itself. And we’re only into the end of the first quarter of the school year.

I can’t say for certain where this all leads. But in my twenties, I spent time in downtown New Orleans. Then, kids would shoot each other at the bus stop over shoes, or leather jackets with an eight-ball stitched on the back.

The situation at my school can only escalate. In my opinion, it’s only a matter of time before somebody decides to bring a knife to a fist fight, or a gun to a knife fight.

I suppose then if the aftermath includes body bags or shell casings on the ground, perhaps somebody will do something.

Craig Higgens is a rank-and-file CCSD teacher who resides in Overton.