It's Only Tuesday?

In French we say, 'de prendre les choses en main'. In English that translates to: I have enough of this @$&%.@%$#* and I'm going to find a solution (because there always is one) and remedy this tumor brewing in my side whose name is Lorvens. So, I did. I had put him in the corner one too many times for my taste today. To the point that, at lunch time (only 11am), I threw up my hands and said, 'I'm done'. This is, the point of tears done, the breaking point, je N'EN PEUX PLUS avec cet enfant! Then, I sat down, had lunch with other teachers and hashed it out. I took their advice and re-arranged my room. We'll see if he finds a away to misbehave now! The four groups of tables were all in the middle of the class, surrounded by the cubbies. So, I moved the cubbies into the middle of the class, forming a 'U' shape and blocking the vision of the groups while they're working; one is in the middle of the U (the youngest), one is to the left (M. Lorven's group, who is just above the youngest), one to the right (a little older and competent) and in the back corner (most mature, already displaying signs that they can function alone, ie, know what a 'line' is and how to get into one and repeat a word when you say it). They can't see each other. Now, hopefully, when we ask them to go to their groups, they can be a little more concentrated on their 'work' and I won't feel like I'm slowly degrading as a human being watching an uncontrollable circus unfold before my eyes every morning at 7am.
So! I worked until 4, until everything felt right. I even made the customary 'stop light' for behavior; red you don't get a sticker; yellow, keep working; and green, sticker; with their names on clothe's pins. And I took it upon myself to make progress charts for each group. We have a lot of wonderful assistants who 'stop by' and 'watch' and then 'leave'. Apparently, they are unsure of what they could possibly do with children, so I've decided...solution. Each group will have a chart, for the day, week, whatever and and will let us know whether the members of that group are, for example, holding their marker correctly, using their right or left hand (or both), have good grips, can recognize their names or colors, are able to follow simple directions and be in a group; anything we're working on that week. So that, EVERYONE has something to do and we know the progressions of our kids and can adapt our groups accordingly and eliminate boredom or children staring off into space; only I get to do that on the days the coffee doesn't kick in.
However, on my walk home I found out that we can get fresh eggs from the gardeners. When I asked how much I was told for nothing, because the eggs come from our chickens! Our chickens? Yes, we have 24 Jamaican laying hens in our...garden! What! I was living half a life here. I promptly went to visit them, they are beautiful. And the garden, I guess I found it, I didn't see any vegetables. We do have some corn that I've heard is okay. The teachers planted swiss chard last year. So, ah, another way to de-clench and exhale from the day.
The worst part is, this Lorvens kid comes from a entirely un-nurturing environment. I have yet to meet his mother, but he is the second of three boys (his oldest brother is at the school and I've been told he was just like Lorvens is now, great) and his father works in the states. He lives in an unsafe and raucous part of St Marc and given his actions on the playground, just acts out what he sees in his world at home. He literally pulled a chip of mulch out of his back pocket the other day that had splintered and formed a dagger-like edge and began to wave it in front of a group of bigger boys who were taunting him. I felt like I was watching a street fight of teenagers. You want to show him that there's another world and so many other ways to express yourself, but it's so hard when he will be constantly surrounded by that one. And, when he drives you insane all day. However, at times, he is so sweet and if you catch him you will find him helping someone put their shoe back on or helping the smallest kid in our class, Camison, put his belt back through the loops, or pick up everyone's napkins at the end of breakfast and throw them away. I quickly found out this last caper was just a way for him to peruse around the cafeteria. Smart, stubborn, and independent. Sound like anyone we know? Perhaps why we're bashing heads.
Anyway! Below are pictures from class, old and new, and from the chickens!!