The book also shows, beautifully, the overwhelming bureaucracy of high schools – all of the inter-office memos are printed (some of them are hilarious) – and the notes passed back and forth between teachers – Sylvia Barrett (our lead character’s name) trying to get her sea legs in this new environment, which feels more like a correctional facility than a high school. There are series of conversations with her students, where she tries to get them under control (no small feat) – they refer to her as ‘teach’, they speak many languages, none of them very well, they are ghetto kids, and full of mischief and bullshit. The book is not written with a narrative. I remember reading it and there was one section, in particular, which made me laugh so hard that I still remember it, years later, almost word for word. I read it because my cousin Susan, who was a year older than myself, and basically the coolest and most admirable person alive to me was reading it (and yes, if she had jumped off a bridge, I would have too) – her guffaws of laughter made me intrigued. I read this laugh-out-loud funny book about a woman who goes to teach in an inner city school when I was a kid.
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