Sandy was not a young girl anymore.
The simple truth was that she was still a young teacher, fighting to get vested to protect her job, and an expectant mother at the ripe age of 34 with no children at home and 2 miscarriages to dwell upon at those times when sleep did not come easily.
Her husband Raymond was working on Wall Street now in a cushy job with lots of perks. She hoped his voluptuous blonde secretary was not one of them. He was on her case quite often now to quit her job and stay nice and safe at home waiting for the baby to be born. The two miscarriages had taken a lot out of him as well. Sandy was not ready to hang up her red pen and detention pad just yet. If she could just get the elusive tenure, she knew her future was secure without depending on Raymond and his fickle bosses in the market.
The last few years had become progressively worse at Lincoln High School with the influx of Hispanic immigrants and transplanted black youth from the newly incorporated district on the other side of the tracks. Large segments of the white families who had lived in the Lincoln High School district slowly eroded out to the suburbs and the newer buildings built by costly bond issues approved with little opposition. The funds to maintain the older district buildings had remained constant but the costs continued to rise with pressures of union demands, hefty pensions, and increased need for costly repairs to deteriorating facilities.
Sandy was about five and a half months pregnant now and she was finding it increasingly difficult to climb the stairs to the third floor for her afternoon English classes and the detention hall that she ran on Thursdays and Fridays each and every week. This afternoon she was in the detention hall counting heads and marveling that the ratio of boys to girls in detention was getting more unbalanced each year. This new crop of boys, actually young men, as they were all in 17 to 18 years of age category, seemed to be more vicious than in previous years.
The count in her detention hall this Thursday was twenty boys and only two girls. Both of the girls were considered "hard cases" and had little regard for rules or regulations. Rosa Rosales was a known gang member and was reputed to be the "girl most likely to get on her knees for any reason". Shawna Johnson was intelligent, devoted to Black Nationalism and even further along than Sandy. The young teacher looked at her carefully because she looked like she was ready to pop at any minute.
Sandy really didn't know any of the boys in this group because they were from the slow group in the basement. Her English class was an AP class and most of the students were motivated to get good grades for a shot at college.
A little clique in the back of the room made her a little nervous because they looked much meaner than the average student at Lincoln High School. They all wore a similar black leather jacket and their hair was carefully combed back into the popular "DA" that was all the go for immature urban males.
Sandy was told by Mr. Adams from the PE classes that Lincoln High had the highest percentage of male students with juvenile criminal records. She almost laughed because it was a record that did not sound very much in Lincoln High school's favor.
She didn't interfere with the black leather jacketed students studied disregard of the detention hall rules because she was overly tired from the long day of instruction and grading papers. Instead, she pored over their school folders.
"Sonny" Lewis was 17 years old and the leader of the group of miscreants. He had a red circle next to his name which indicated he had a police file but such files were not available for the teachers to read. He also had a black dot which meant that he was under the sponsorship of child protective services. Usually that meant any attempt to include parents in any intervention process was out of the question.
"Bugger" Leroy Diamond was already 18 and his file indicated he had been on suspension on several prior occasions. A note in his file indicated he was almost expelled permanently for bringing a weapon onto school grounds. Several teachers had written little comments like "Watch this one carefully" or "Don't turn your back on this one".
Roscoe Green was also 18 and was considered to be still illiterate even though he was scheduled to graduate in less than six months.
"Pretty Boy" Ramirez was clean of dots but had a note that revealed he had been involved in numerous paternity suits from female students most of whom had already transferred out of Lincoln High School. A comment from the previous principal warned the female teachers that he had been cleared of charges of rape of a first year probationary female teacher. She had suffered a mental relapse and taken her own life before the charges could be finalized.
"Zorro" Hernandez was transferred into Lincoln high school from an inner city school because he had used a protractor to carve his initials on a female lunchroom worker for "dissing" him in the lunchroom. All teachers were warned to keep sharp objects out of his hands to avoid another incident.
She looked up from her desk when she smelled the acrid scent of a cigarette.
"Are you boys in the back smoking a cigarette?"
The 5 black jacketed youths smiled back at her with infuriating distain.
"You talking to us, teach?"
"Yes, Mr. Lewis, I am talking to you and your other 4 comrades in arms back there."
"You calling me a commie, teach?"
"No, Mr. Lewis, I am simply identifying the guilty parties who will be staying for another hour after the detention is dismissed."
The other students in the detention hall sniggered and Sandy could see it really pissed "Sonny" Lewis off to be singled out for punishment.
When the other students left after the bell, she moved down to the back of the room and instructed the five young men to write "I will not smoke in class" 100 times in their books. As she turned to go back to her desk, she saw them make obscene gestures at her and make fun of her rounded belly. She could hear a couple of them making the familiar "pussy smacking" sounds so common on all the street corners for any nubile young female walking past. She felt a stab of fear in the pit of her belly but the itch in her pussy overrode that subtle warning.
.... There is more of this story ...