This is an exclusive SBSB news update! News so exclusive that we here at SBSB felt the need to copyright our this blog post.

The Lunch Teacher's (here and here) date with the Rubber Room came and went. When she walked into
school on February 26, she fully expected to sent to Michelle Nacht's welcome and dispersal unit on Gold St to find out which Rubber Room in the Bronx (Fordham Plaza or Zerega Ave) she would reside at. The Crack Team had it's fingers crossed for Zerega.

She had studied Star Trek trivia and other useless trivia to better able to segue into the insane conversations one gets into at the Rubber Room. Also, a stack of Eric Carle books was with her for her reading pleasure.

But she was thrown a curveball. She was not sent to Michelle Nacht. She was not reassigned. She is still teaching her class. This is great news for the parents and students who depend so much on her.

She is still facing these bullshit charges and was just assigned a damn fine NYSUT attorney.

My guess, as well as The Crack Team's, is that these are charges to drive her out of the school and into the ATR pool. And of course, a small fine of at least $2k just to drive home the point.

Luckily, The Crack Team has a contact over at 100 Gold St and has found out some interesting information on this case. The NYCDOE is about to introduce a pilot program, a new shock punishment regimen, on naughty and wayward teachers. The word is that the Lunch Teacher will be the first one this will be tried out on.

There are two punishment options being discussed.

Punishment #1 entails, in conjunction with new NYCDOE consultant Satan, "The Prince of Darkness," having the Lunch Teacher travel back with Satan to Hades in she will do lunch duty in the staff cafeteria in which she will be subject to one of Satan's "ironic punishments": she will be forced to do lunch duty for what will seem forever (In actuality it will be only a week).

Punishment #2 The Lunch Teacher will be forced to watch hour upon hour of watching this lunchroom etiquette (click here) film from 1960. The goal here is for the Lunch Teacher to show that she understands the proper social ramifications of lunch.


As of press time we are waiting with bated breath on the UFT to share if any of the above punishments violate the contract.

While sitting around in the Rubber Room at 1230 Zerega Ave last Monday, October 6th, we yet again found out that what others think of us, as if it were really a surprise.

Doing what one usually does in the Rubber Room the big macha, along with his two deputies, of 1230 Zerega Ave came to address all 11 of us. Why were we blessed with his presence?

A little background.

We are warehoused in the large, 10 table, approximately 36 seat cafeteria. In this cafeteria there are two vending machines (One for snacks, the other for beverages). We are also blessed with a former 7-Up soda refrigerator where we can store our food. We are also have a toaster and a microwave.

There is also a 42 inch flat screen LCD-HD TV in there. Hanging up in the corner. We can watch the TV whenever we want. Sadly there is no cable, we just get the over the air channels and whatever corresponding digital channels come along. We just don't have the remote. That is under lock and key by a receptionist, Mrs Forest Gump, in the enrollment center. No one know why she has such specialized attention.

The Rubber Room/Cafeteria at 1230 Zerega Ave.

About 10 days ago we decided to turn on the TV to watch the latest Channel 4 news when Mrs Forest Gump comes into the cafeteria to eat her lunch. We were then hoping to watch New York Live right after but Mrs Forest Gump would have none of it. She had to watch her stories. We were subjected to the Young and the Restless.

It was attempted that we have every right to watch the TV as her and out of courtesy she should at the very least consult with us, ask us, what we want to watch or if it is OK to change the channel. Her reply was quite typical;

"This is MY cafeteria, 'you people' don't even belong here."

Umbrage was taken at this and it was reported. It didn't have to happen this way. It could have been worked out, a compromise found. But Mrs Forest Gump had to insult and degrade us.

Which brings us to Monday.

So like Fielding Mellish had to listen to the general, I too, as well as my colleagues had to listen to the leader of the building belittle and humiliate us. 

He told us in no uncertain terms that we are not in a Rubber Room and we should not call where we are a Rubber Room. We are in the cafeteria.

That there are 180 people at the Zerega Ave complex and that it is very convenient to the 6 train, the Hutch, the Bruckner, the Cross Bronx and the Whitestone and Throgs Neck bridges. Oh, and the parking is out of this world.

There is no other place to put us at Zerega and this is where we must be as he talked condescending to us implying we should be grateful for the amenities we have (See above).

But he would like one thing from us. We must leave the Rubber Room, oops, the cafeteria from 12:30 to 1:30 so the rest of the staff at Zerega can eat lunch. Never mind that half the building is out at schools and whatnot and the rest are eating lunch at their desks. We must vacate or as he implied;

 "We can find other reassignment centers in the Bronx for you."

When asked that even if everyone in the building wished to eat lunch at that time there isn't enough room for everybody, he ignored that and shared that people wish to converse with one another at lunch and talk about the travails of the New York Jets and we will be inhibiting such dialogue.

We were told we can go to lunch (But not in the cafeteria), sit in the bullpens of our networks, sit in unoccupied meeting rooms, or the copy room. But NOT IN THE CAFETERIA!!

This is really unacceptable. We are professionals and human beings. We have already lost a great deal of respect and dignity from others, why must this person come in and kick us when we are down. The Leader even admitted that it was true that this decree was in response to the complaint about Mrs Forest Gump. The same Mrs Forest Gump that insulted the teachers in the Rubber Room last year and the same decree was declared. There is a pattern here for the Leader to notice. Mrs Forest Gump does not play and work well with others.

And if you are asking yourself is the cafeteria overcrowded due to the exodus of the Rubber Room inmates? Not exactly. Mrs Forest Gump has been the lone person having lunch there from 12:30 to 1:30 everyday and watching her stories unfettered.

There was a parole, or maybe a commutation, today at the Zerega Ave Rubber Room.

As mentioned the other day, Rudy Baylor as reported here on Monday, received a new suit, a bus ticket and a ride to the deep end of the ATR pool courtesy of our friends at the DOE. We all bade him a fond farewell, wished him the best and went back to waiting. And waiting, and waiting for whatever fate awaits us.

Now there are 11 of us left. Coincidentally, we are all, we the exception of one (Who happens to be on the cusp of 40), over the age of 40. The vast majority are male and/or of color. But all of us share a few similarities. We are independent of mind and counting the days.

Two weeks ago I wrote about Tito Landrum and how OSI came for him. The poor guy has his meeting just a few days ago and he has been a wreck. He is walking around the last few days in a fog, just in shock. Almost 20 years in the system and it can all go down the toilet because anything a child says is gospel and teachers are deemed guilty unless they have the fight in them to prove themselves innocent after being kicked in the face for months.

Last year I wrote about my lack of human contact where I was assigned. In some ways that was better than I have it now. In a surreal way the Rubber Room at Zerega Ave resembles, rather is, Death Row. Death and doom are all around me. At least at 4360 Broadway I could create my own fantastical world.

That's what it's like. We sit around day after day, week after week and so on and wonder when our doom is coming or if will we get a last minute call to save us. Worse, we sit there wondering if this is all some kind of dream that we can't yet wake ourselves out of. 

We are in a large lunchroom with is akin to the day room in the pod on Death Row. A dozen people who didn't know one another before thrown into this Kafkaesque rabbit hole sit there and do nothing other than read the paper, read a book, sleep, or dream of a better place for themselves.

Since there are about a half dozen networks at Zerega and 3 district offices the building is always buzzing. People (As it is their right), come in and out of the lunchroom we are confined to mostly polite to us but mostly ignored, as if they can catch what we have; DOE Cooties.

The DOE wants to break us, destroy us, and be rid of us. The only difference between the Rubber Room and Gitmo is that the prisoners of Gitmo are treated with more respect and have better accommodations. We get what? A hard plastic chair that is not made to be sat in for nearly seven hours and a hard dirty table.

And like Gitmo, the longer we are held without knowing why or having our cases adjudicated, one becomes more radical in their thinking and more resentful to those responsible for their imprisonment.

Dignity and respect go without saying, but sadly it is going without.

Amnesty International, where are you guys?

I have been transferred.

For those that recall, last year I spent my Rubber Room time at 4360 Broadway. Worse, I was held captive alone for over 6 months until I was allowed compatriots. I shared with the readers of this blog my captivity, my friends, and how I acclimated myself to the whims of my captors.

I am now at 1230 Zerega Ave in the Bronx where there not only 3 district offices but about a gazillion networks and other support staff as well. Better, I am no longer imprisoned alone. But the more things change, the more they seem to stay the same.

There are about a dozen or so prisoners there and each and everyone one of us are above 40 years of age. Most are male as well as people of color. What does this tell you? A lot!

Today was a normal day as usual in the Rubber Room. People were counting the hairs on their arms, counting the ceiling tiles, and other assorted time wasting activities when a network HR director came into the cell block with a nerdy looking white guy no older than 27 years old.

They were both standing in the door jam when they motioned for Colonel Hogan. Tito looking confused got up out of his seat and walked towards them.

Looking at the nerdy white guy, I notice something out of place. Well, yes...besides the fact he was nerdy.

He was wearing a dress shirt and tie, but more intriguing was the stenographers note pad and pen he was carrying in his right hand. I smelled the stench of OSI (Office of Special Investigation) and bolted up from my seat.

I whisked myself out of my chair and went out into the hallway where Tito was being led away as a death row prisoner was being led to the execution chamber. My spider sense tingled.

I called out to Tito not to answer any questions from this Nerdy Guy, that he had a right to having someone represent him.

Nerdy Guy, told me several times to mind my business. I told Nerdy Guy that Colonel Hogan had a right to be represented either my a union rep or anyone else with the union. Nerdy Guy was having none of this.

He demanded to know who I am and I introduced myself. He told me his name was Eric Black, OSI operative.

Eric said that he was not going to be asking Tito any questions but again implored that I mind my own business. I again told Eric aka Nerdy Guy that Tito had rights. Besides I thought to myself, if he wasn't planning on asking him any questions, why then was he carrying that notebook and pen?

Eric aka Nerdy Guy won out and Tito went into a room alone with him. Luckily it was over in less than a minute.

All Eric aka Nerdy Guy did was hand Colonel Hogan a letter. Oh, and chastise me by pointing his notebook several times in my face and screaming, "It's your fault this became a bigger deal than it had to."

Who know what could have happened? If no one spoke up to remind Colonel Hogan of his rights or reminded Eric aka Nerdy Guy of Colonel Hogan's rights perhaps there might have been questioning and Tito could have been a witness against himself.

Worse, why would Eric aka Nerdy Guy not only not allow Colonel Hogan his full rights but feel the need to deride anyone who wishes to advocate for Tito?

Perhaps he is making up for some serious Freudian physical shortcoming and the only way he can counter that is by making himself seem like a tough guy by bullying and intimidating others.

We suggest that Eric aka Nerdy Guy treat teachers he deals with in the future with respect. If he is unable to do that The Crack Team suggests he returns his associates degree from the community college from which it was earned post haste as well as returning the magic decoder ring he got in his Cocoa Puffs to the good folks at General Mills in the same speedy fashion.