This Canadian Gladiator Runs The Eliminator

The clanging of the crosswalk is like a fistful of hot needles into a skull as my temples throb with each painful ring and mercifully the train passes, screaming into the night. This is my second migraine this week and it, like the first, is of such ferocity it induces nausea with every movement. Even the tapping sound of this keyboard are like Ali jabs to the head but the train is two hours from being silenced and sleep is choosing to avoid me. I have become accustomed to this sound but me being used to it is little comfort tonight with an aching head and a body trying to ward off sickness. Outside some Japanese couples laugh and off they go in their small cars presumably to partake in whatever nightlife is offered to them in this small dot of a city. Earlier this morning, that me, would have joined them as I had planed to visit the darts bar and see if I could find these Yagi foreigners but, no, not tonight. Tonight I need to down half a bottle of Nyquil and doze. Seeing as how you can’t find such miracle liquid here I am going to half to tough it out, head buried under a pillow, until the final train and the final clang. This night might be the night I loose control and take my frying pan out to the crosswalk and beat the thing until it coughs out one last clang. I have never wished an inanimate object death before. Actually, that’s not true. I one wished death upon a plastic pink donut and, sure enough, lightening struck and a millisecond later the plastic pink donut was no more. Let that be a warning to you, crosswalk, I have amazing powers at my disposal.

Saturday, this particular Saturday, I run the Eliminator. Does anybody out there remember American Gladiators? This was one of those late night shows I stayed up to watch when I was in my early to mid teens. It really was the under card to Freddy’s Nightmares, a show so frightful it was given the dreaded 2AM timeslot where only insomniacs, infomercial addicts and hardcore horror fans were still awake. Freddy’s Nightmares, now a cult status icon of television, was a series of new tales of terror hosted by the almighty gloved one himself. I can’t remember a single episode and even recently, after having watched the ‘s show’s title sequence on YouTube, I could not recollect anything about the show at all except that Freddy was in it. What he did and what he said, well, you got me.

Nope, I can’t remember the show I stayed up so late to watch but I do remember pretty much everything about American Gladiators. Blaze, Thunder, Nitro, those steel ball cages, the joust, that ring game where contestants had to avoid being violently gripped by legs the size of bridge pillars and there was that strange shooting tennis balls game. (As a side note, and maybe I dreamt this, but sometimes there was a show that aired instead of American Gladiators where the premise was basically two teams of roller skaters knocking each other off an obstacle laden race track. Late night television sure was strange). There was also, of course, the finale to such a cheese fest of competition. This main event of the evening was a cumulative test of strength, stamina, endurance and patience. Though I am not swinging from rings, fighting it out with huge Q-tips, running up conveyor belts or avoiding bazooka fired tennis balls, this one Saturday of the month, I run an Eliminator of my own. The arena is the classroom. The opponents are children, the most problematic heathens so far. The event is five hours long. Five classes or events, if you will. I, ladies and gentlemen, am the player, the fighter and the victim. They call me the Canadian Gladiator. Lace up your boots, folks, helmets secured, because you’re going in with me. This is not a place for sissies and mamas boys. We’re going into the shit so if you want to wee wee wee all the way home get out now because once your in the thick of it there is no turning back.

Obstacle #1: Getting Up
This is as easy as it is going to get, maggots! You will arise at 0700 to the two alarms you have set, just in case one runs out of battery juice. Okay, move it move. Out of that warm bed and into a cold shower because you forgot to turn on the heater to warm the water. Spray on some deodorant because this day will make you stink and organize your materials, no time for the camera today, and race through door, breakfast will have to wait until it become lunch, because you have to make it to obstacle #2. What, your Games Book has been left behind. Sorry, soldier, it will have to make it on it’s own. The needs of the many outweigh needs of the few, so sayth Mr. Spock. Then again, that guy also sang The Ballad of Bilbo Baggins so why the hell am I listening to him?

Obstacle #2: The Train
Funny how it is the thing I depend upon so much is the thing I hate with every fiber of my beings on nights such as this. The train and me are like Edith and Archie. Morning trains are always packed and I have come to recognize where to stand on the platform to get on less crowded train cars. The ride to this particular school is a two train transfer and a one hour trip which is not bad considering what other company teachers have to go through to get to work. The train times for this school are sketchy at the moment and I haven’t mastered when the opportune time to get there would be which would be more time efficient. At the moment I just guess and wait.

Obstacle #3: Set Up
Okay, so now we are at the school. I would normally not be here again having just taught these classes a week ago but because of a staff meeting falling on the exact day I get my five stages of hell I have to repeat this dance again. Last time I was very fortunate as I had been teaching at the school all week and was able to lay out all materials needed the night before. This allowed me to arrive later with less set up. Not so today which accounts for the early rising time. This school is a mess compared to the others I have been to and finding all the materials I need is always a treasure hunt. So I arrive three hours before my first class to get all five organized and ready because they only allow me fifteen minutes between classes to set up. I never get the full fifteen, if any. Some parent is late or the kids don’t want to shuffle out when it is time. Even with everything prepared I have to be quick to ensure the next lesson is ready to go.

Obstacle #4: Class Number One – The Younglings
This is the youngest class I teach. They are three year olds and, last week, they were the best behaved of the bunch under the watchful eyes of parents. Today this was no the case. One girl was the leader of the classroom mutiny and half of the hour was spent chasing her and the others that followed her around. For this class I have the aid of the Japanese teacher who was rather lenient in her stopping of roughhousing leaving me to do the grunt work. When they were not little tornadoes of destruction they were attentive and did the dances and colored their pictures and, oh yes, coughed and dripped all over me. There is a flu going around that I had not yet caught yet. I guess the kids wanted me in the club. All coughs were directed in the area I happened to be in if not directly onto me and even with some tissue in the room I guess I was a much better nose wipe. Yuck! This stuff was like that old glue they don’t allow in schools anymore because it made kids totally high. Sticky and gooey.

Obstacle #5: Lunch
I bet you that last bit made you hungry. Yeah, me too. I have an hour for lunch between the first class and the other four. But, no, not really. One kid’s mother was late, showing up with an arm full of shopping bags fifteen minutes after the lesson. We were told in training that parents may have the tendency to abuse teachers by using them as babysitters squeezing out as much time as they can. We are supposed to put a stop to this if it becomes a trend. This mother is on notice. Now, when you factor in now that I need to be back at the class fifteen minutes before the start of the lesson should kids arrive early (again, parents sometimes will drop kids off early –once 45 minutes early- so they can get a break. I’ve had kids having to sit through half of other lessons because they were shipped off to me before class time) it all adds up to a half-hour for lunch. There are not many restaurants in the area to get something quick and the one place that did look speedy all had items displayed to which I had no clue to what they were. But hunger cares not for recognition and I purchased something that looked like chicken but tasted like corrugated cardboard. Oh well, better luck next time. Near the classroom there is a vending machine to offered this tasty looking KitKat drink. At least I thought it was a drink. Out popped a class jar with six mini KitKat bars in it. This was all well and good but I really wanted the KitKat drink my mind and stomach had imagined. If I had a blender in the classroom those bars would have been liquefied!

Obstacle #5: Class #2
This would be the best class of the day as they kids all seem to want to learn and are adorable. Two of the younger girls, though, took quite the liking to me and climbed all over me. One of them laid her head in my lap and tried to go to sleep. Nothing doing, missy. They were like walking suction cups and each time I pried them off within a few minutes they were stuck to me again like face-huggers. Once one of them sat on my shoulders and tried to turn me into a pony I drew the line and took the kid off of me. She looked up at me and smiled an innocent smile and battered her eyes. I swear she was doing this on purpose. It is hard to dole out the ugly stick when you’re trying to hold back your laughter.

Obstacle #6: Class #3 or The Battle of the Sexes
This class has one of my kids with a learning disability akin to ADHD, if not exactly that. She was just a fireball of annoyance and disruption last week. I had prepared for her by making my games this class less active and complicated. Wouldn’t you know it, she was absent. This class also has the most amount of students for any class thus far I have taught: 11. Half are girls and half are boys and both groups band together in cliques of the same sex on separate sides of me. The girls in this class are quite good when not being harassed by the boys. They don’t really pay attention when they are in their groups so I mixed them up today. This tactic worked well and it will be used in other classes. By this class the migraine is festering and I know there is not stopping where it is going. It is going to be one of those headaches. I am also feeling sluggish and start thinking one of those little nose wiping coughing plague carries has infected me with their virus. My involvement in the games from this point on will slowly become more like a person moving under water. The glass of my patience will also begin to dissolve.

Obstacle #7: Class #4 or The Class Where I Become A Stupid American
The headache is almost reached its peak and I am starting to cough now as well. Maybe if I also don’t cover my mouth and spray outwards towards the kids I can return the virus back them as if it were only on loan. This class has two kids that act like they were raised by wild animals. Straightjacket sizes for children were made for these two kids. Again, you have to note that last week most of these kids were on their best behavior because their parents were present. This led me astray under many false pretenses. I had been told by the guy who taught this day before me that it would be the day I dreaded all month, that one day that made me rethink the whole teaching English overseas thing. Last week, though difficult at times (especially the next class) it was not moral destroying in the least. It was not as bad as I imagined it to be and I scoffed at other teacher’s complaints in the communication notebook. I could hack this. Ah, but this week the swords were unsheathed and the fight was now on. Kids who were angels sprouted horns and long red tails and they were not afraid to use their pitchforks. This would not be more evident then in my final two classes. These two boys troublemaking is infectious and it spreads like smallpox. If the others were not distracted by them they were joining in. Things reached a climax near the end of class when they decided to start a pile on with one jumping full force on the other. The final strand inside of me that may have turned the headache away was broken. My left temple throbbed and suddenly the class was awash in red. I was a bull in a china shop and these two kids were tea cups rattling on the edge of a shelf. I abandoned my lesson and stood over them as I had done the kid the other day and shouted for them to stop. Unlike that other kid they didn’t. Humm, like the crane in Karate Kid 2 my best move had failed me. Another tactic then? I engaged in battle at a closer range. I got on my knees, right down low, and shot them the angry eyes and asked them if they had heard me. They laughed. The temples throbbed harder. “Do you think I am joking?” I know they didn’t understand me but the tone was enough. The kids broke it up. I took one and moved him to the other side of the room. The other said something harshly and all I understood was the word American. Later on I would look up what the other word was and it was “Stupid”. I returned to this kid and asked if he had something he wanted to say. He did not but when my back was turned he was again all venom. I corrected him by saying I was Canadian and then finished the lesson. I give these two one more chance and if they act the same way next time they will be split apart in my seating arrangements and teams for the remainder of the year.

Obstacle #8: Class #5 or The One They Warned Me About
Both my trainer and supervisor would warn me about this class. Notes in the communication binder would warn me about this class. Nothing like filling me with foreboding before I even step foot into the room. They were right, though. Last week, even with the parents watching, it was the worse class I taught in my short tenure with the company. I wouldn’t even consider what I did last week teaching. One kid has a learning disability. I was told what it was by the Japanese teacher but only in Japanese. Asking her to explain it to me yielded nothing in the way of better understanding the disability nor did an online search later. There was no information online. It is some kind of mixture of Down Syndrome and ADHD. I will come back to this in a moment. This kid is not the biggest problem in the class. Every lesson note has something about this Damian kid I will henceforth call Seed of Lucifer. Seed of Lucifer does not have a learning disability. He is just a bad kid and he is aware of it. This is what differentiates him for the other troublemakers in my other classes. Those kids are mainly just being kids, playing and horsing around. Seed of Lucifer, though, knows he is a problem and revels in it. You can tell this guy is trying to get under your skin. He’s wicked and he loves it. He is also violent and this is where my main concern lies. Last week he came close to punching another kid in the face. His parents did not stay to watch last week so he was not tethered to any possible repercussions. 45 minutes of last weeks class was spent trying to control him (and also the other kid with the disability). He would just look up at me and grin. His face was burned into my brain and this week he would be facing a different adversary. From the moment he came into the room the battle was on. He started walking around in a circle, eyeing me, smiling. He just kept doing this and would not stop. I let him go on for a bit. He was testing me, it was obvious. Seed of Lucifer was trying to see how far he could go with this new blood teacher. I asked him politely for his homework to check as we do at the start of every lesson. He grinned that evil grin and just kept walking in his circle. I was up with such speed that he didn’t have a chance to blink. My shadow over him I reserved my loudest of tones for him. The sheer force of my voice seemed to push him to the floor because he hit the bricks quickly, face down on the ground. The law had been laid down and he now knew it. Papa don’t take no mess! Defeated, he sulked off to the back wall and ignored me as I continued to ask for his homework. Okay, two could play at this game. I had the advantage here and I was not about to lose it. I just ignored Seed of Lucifer right back. I didn’t even call his name during attendance. The other kids tried to correct me saying that I had forgotten him but, nope, if he didn’t want to be part of the class like everybody else he would be treated at such. This may seem cruel but, trust me, it would work.

I’ll get back to Seed of Lucifer against the wall there shortly but now let me continue with my learning disability kid. I will not get angry with her or shout at her, at least I will try not to. It is not her fault she being disruptive. I have worked with learning disabilities and mentally challenged kids before and I know that you need a lot of patience. This girl is actually very smart and knows what she is doing but she cannot concentrate on anything for longer then a few minutes. She would best be educated in a one on one environment where lessons could be catered to her learning style. Learning problems are in my famil and these types of disabilities need to be catered to differently then other kids. I cannot get angry or loose my temper or even look down upon people with these problems because, honestly, I have my own issues. Five years ago I began having problems remembering the spelling of simple words. My spelling was never very good (yes, and here I am teaching English) but suddenly I had to concentrate on the way to spell words like “television” or “apartment”. The trilogy of “there” “their” and “they’re” became sentence stoppers. The word would eventually click it would cause me to think about them where I never had to before. I also started to say words that were far from what I really wanted to say, mixing up sentences. I remember the time I noticed it was when I was trying to say “soccer ball” once and it came out “chocolate bar”. It was not a passing thing as it happened frequently enough to be a problem. Over the years, this is something I have come to control by talking slower but it still slips out every now and then. The biggest problem came with my writing. You may even notice this problem in this journal but I do my best to edit it down. Words that don’t belong in my sentences turn up there just the same. There, it just happened twice. What I actually wrote before correcting was “Words little don’t belong on my sentences…” More and more I look up at my finished paragraphs find words that don’t belong there. Finally, when I am hand writing something I will often forget to put a letter at the end of the word, especially when things should be plural. My mother does this all the time when she speaks but in reverse where she will add an S to something that should have one. I have researched all these symptoms and can not find any information. I am sure they are no unique to me and though not an extreme disability it is one all the same so my understand of such problems is extremely elevated. The challenge is catering to a kid who really needs one on one lessons while not ignoring the rest of the class. When you add Seed of Lucifer to the mix, last week, the class ended with me feeling as though I really hadn’t done anything for the other kids who maybe wanted to learn something. These are 12 and 13 year olds, by the way, the oldest I teach. My day begins with the youngest and climbs to the oldest and it is there where I have the most problems. The other students realize that this girl is hindering them because they keep telling her to calm down, or get out of the way or stop what she is doing so they can listen. You can see that they ostracize her and that is kind of sad because when they come down on her she just goes off into her own little world and colors. I don’t want to tell them to stop because, really, they help me to control her but I also don’t want her to feel left out. The best I can do is keep trying to include her but not donate all my time to it.

What became of Seed of Lucifer, you may wonder? Well, he must have realized that his ignoring me was not getting him the results he wanted. I kept trying to include him even if he didn’t join and after a half-hour he gave up and came and sat with the rest of us and it was like a total reversal in behavior. He became the best of the bunch. Who was this guy? Will this continue the next time we meet? Who knows? I have my doubts that one duel is not going to end this battle. At the end of class I pulled him aside and explained to him as best as I could, mainly using gesture to accentuate my English, that next time he has to show me his cards like everybody else and he has to listen and act better when he comes into my classroom. I don’t know if he understood but he said “o.k.” and gave me a high five as he left. We will see.

And so the day ended with another late parent which prevented me from tearing out of there leaving smoke tracks behind me. This parent was nearly a half-hour late and so I played handball with the student while we waited. When the parent did show she bowed low in apology. I smiled as I put her on notice. The day was over, my head pounded and the flu was circulating through my body. I ached like I had just participated in a triathlon but I had survived the Eliminator. I cleaned up and left the classroom knowing that I would not have to live this day again for another two months. The sky was a beautiful black and a full moon was over head. In front of the train station somebody was playing an acoustic guitar. He sounded like a Japanese Dylan. I wanted to ask him if he knew any English tunes but I was too tired to join in this night and I caught my train for home and tried to pass out on the couch but the train put an end to that and here I am again putting it all down.