My husband is an art teacher in the inner city public school system. As an incredibly talented artist, poet, and writer, he can't get supplies, has had his schedule repeatedly changed and added to, and has long since given up projects in ceramics, painting, needlework due to the mischief that occurs when the materials and tools necessary for these projects are put in the hands of students.
Yesterday, he came home with this story of a first grader in one of his art classes:
"A young boy in the class has 'anger management issues'. He is belligerent. He gets off the bus pushing and shoving, cutting in line, bullying other kids. Yesterday, shortly after his teacher brought the class to art, he left his seat and moved to the table of another girl and stood over her, glowering and fuming, and finally shouting out, "Get out of my face!" My husband got this all sorted out and moved some students around to different seats. Minutes later, he was up again, standing over another girl in another part of the room and screaming at her to 'leave him alone'. This second incident was too much, so my husband called his mother and then proceeded to try and coax the boy out into the hall to talk to his mother on the phone. He was, of course, reluctant, and all the while my husband was trying to de-escalate the situation and get the boy out of the room, the class was chanting, "Get mad, Conner! Get mad, Conner!" Eventually the boy exited, spoke to his mother and went down to the office."
What's the point to relating this story? I'm not sure, but it's shocking, horrific, and a window into the inner city classroom that no one but the teacher (and the students) fully see.