Mayor de Blasio, to his credit, has stated he'd get rid of the trailers. I envision getting a bunch of lawn chairs, a barbecue, a large party, and blowing them up. But, you know, we'd do it the safe way, like they do with outdated casinos in Vegas. They sort of implode. That's kind of anti-climactic, but there's nothing that says you can't follow up with a fireworks show, or the Rockettes, or something festive.
I've been expelled from the trailers. It's odd to be in the building, to hear the bell ring, and not instinctively run like hell out of the building. I can now be just about anywhere, and make it to my classroom without too much of a struggle. Of course, after my decade of exile, I kind of feel like I no longer belong in the building. I haven't got a tattoo or anything, but I kind of feel like I deserve one.
Despite Mayor de Blasio's good thoughts, he still hasn't told our school, or any really, what the hell it is we're supposed to do after we blow up those trailers. I mean, sure we'll clean up after our barbecue, and whoever blows up the trailers can haul away the debris. Sure we'll salt the ground to make sure nothing ever grows there again, and it's my fond hope they name the site for me. Nonetheless, there will still be a problem.
The problem, of course, is those darn students. Where are we gonna put them once the trailers are gone? In our school, the trailers represent 8 classrooms. In Richmond Hill High School, they have an entire yard full of them. I've never counted, but it looks like an entire civilization out there. And all over the city there are trailers here, trailers there, trailers everywhere.
Will they build extensions on the buildings that host trailers? There aren't any plans to do so. Personally, I'm not persuaded the "Let's do whatever and hope for the best" line of thought is the most productive. And yet that appears to be the plan.
Unfortunately, that sort of thinking ought to be left with Mike Bloomberg, Joel Klein, and the other abominations we've suffered though over this last interminable decade.
Views expressed herein are solely those of the author or authors, and do not reflect views of my employers, the United Federation of Teachers, the MORE Caucus or any other union caucus.
Stories herein containing unnamed or invented characters are works of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.