... just step out into the school's hallway and start shrieking for help. Loudly. And once an assistant principal, a school officer, a couple of teachers, and some random "who the hell are you and what the hell do you do at this school?" people finally do come to your assistance, start screaming and carrying on like you're some crackhead on a re-run of "Cops."
Truly, not a particularly professional manner in which to behave. As I look back on the course of events, I wonder what the trigger was. Let me break this down.
Mr. B (once again) rearranged his classroom.
Quiet Boy took a seat and then dragged it to the far side of the room.
Mr. B nicely asked that he return the desk to its prior location (hey! I'm gay! Don't screw with the interior design, uh.. I mean "environmental modifications").
Quiet Boy began to drag his desk back to its original location. "I'm a Grown Man" Boy gets in Quiet Boy's face.
After this point, I'm really at a loss as to the sequence of events. Suffice it to say, a pushing match erupted. On a normal day, I can handle this. However, this pushing match resulted in my tall bookshelf being tipped over. Books flew everywhere. EVERYWHERE.
And this is when Mr. B lost contact with reality.
I stood in the hallway proclaiming, "For as long as I'm a teacher here, I will not, I repeat not, have these children in my classroom. Do you hear me? Do you? I want them out! OUT! Get them out! Get out of my classroom, IAGMB! Get out, QB! Out! Out! I don't care where you go, just get out! Get them out of my classroom, officer! Get 'em out! I won't tolerate this nonsense! I won't! Look at that mess! Someone could have been hurt! I could have been hurt! Get them OUT! OUT! OUT! OUT!"
At this point I begin to reestablish contact with reality.
The boys were removed. I returned to my class and closed the door. By this time, the majority of the students had returned the bookcase to its upright position and restocked the shelves.
I stood at the front of the class and had nothing to say.
I just wrote on the board:
"QUIET READING PERIOD"
I walked to the back of the room. A moment later I heard one of my female students ask:
"Why we gotta quit reading? What's a Quit Reading Period?"