I’ve written more referrals in the past six instructional days (6) than in the previous one thousand forty-three (4).
 The other thing with those girls is that they are now getting with guys from my various classes, (Spring has sprung! Spring has sprung!) and are extending the nature of the relationship to that traditional role wherein the familial elder (me, apparently) has to grant some kind of permission before the whole novios thing takes off. So now we’ve got this scenario going where I’m chastising male students for not discussing with me beforehand the nature of their gross adolescent romantic plans. Like I want to hear any of that.
 Seriously, I got dumped on last month. HP C is not rocking, because of these four loud girls, one given up kid, but we’re doing okay, and with 23 CST 1s and 2s, I’m holding it down.
Next, the deluge.
Enter, project kid, who I’m trying to rescue and rehabilitate (#24). Enter, two 8th grade girls who should have been in HP C since the beginning of the year, got dumped in the wrong class, and are coming back in to receive the instruction the deserve (#25 and #26). Enter, frequently absent girl with a host of self-described issues; she completes work, but can all attempts to engage in partner and group work (of which there is much this time of year) is an adamant non-starter (#27). Enter, kid who got kicked out of three middle schools in the last 18 months, hung out with us for a few weeks, withdrew, and is now back, without binder, backpack, or any inclination to work (#28). Enter, kid who got kicked out of his continuation school for non-attendance and drug use (#29). Enter, two kids who got moved to a higher level math class and so are making a parallel move into my class, bringing with them a refusal to work, inexplicable crappy attitudes, and just a host of crummy, petty annoyances (#30 and #31).
All this happened over the course of like two weeks. Twenty-three percent of the class is brand new. With the exception of the two returning 8th graders, every kid is a project kid, someone I’d eventually get on my team, given sufficient time and relationship building. We don’t have that time. And I’m tired. And it’s end-game time. And we weren’t doing so hot before. And they all connect with each other in their pursuit of dead-end shittiness, luring two-three other kids out of the boat and into the dark water. Suddenly the room is packed, and instead of struggling with the loud girls and the kid who lives to antagonize, I’m struggling with the loud girls, the kid who lives to antagonize, the redemption project kid, the two kicked-out of everywhere kids, one of the returning 8th graders who can cause problems after her A-quality work is finished, the in-check-but-barely kid who now is just completely lost to us, a calm poor-worker who has decided to up the ante on me, and anyone else who thinks all this crap is more interesting that indirect characterization.
Instead of going into our work with 90 percent of the kids fundamentally down, and I’m at about 60 percent, and you just can’t work like that. I’m cancelling projects and reevaluating end-of-the-year work because we lack the culture and stability to complete anything, trying to find a way to put that other 40 percent in a box that doesn’t look or feel as good as the way the rest of us roll, but there’s just too damn many of them, and too much of the other 60 percent too enamored of the new way of things to make fundamental change.
Six weeks left and I don’t think I can get em back.