January “Heat Wave” Sickens Students


Photo courtesy Mr. Ahnfeldt

When the heat in the classroom reaches "tropical proportions," it's time to take drastic measures. Mr. Ahnfeldt breaks the dress code, practicing a little civil disobedience.

Problems with the HVAC in the building caused temps to climb into the 80s and 90s in December and the first week back in January, causing teachers to move to new places to find suitable learning environments.

How hot was it?

Ninth grader Ethan Freygang said his English class had to move several days to find a better spot. “It was boiling in the room, and multiple students couldn’t do any work due to the heat, so Mrs. Turner moved us to a different room several days.”

Here’s a poem created by the Spoken Word Poetry class here at Doherty:

“How Hot Is It?”

A Poem By Mrs. Riecks’s Spoken Word Language Arts class

(Renee Tucker, Jaiden May, Oliver Slone, Neiomi Prieditis, Dylan Rickert, Ginger Tillson, Bryan Lyle, Tiffany Atkins, Jeffrey Wastler, Gena Howard, Naya Concepcion, Isabell Atkins, Thia Wright, Nick Glogowski, Sam Cooper, Hazen Thomas, Cassie Gregory, Mazen Qutob, Amber Sandry, and Mrs. Riecks)


Walking through the door–it should be like any other day–except, today the volcano sauna classroom immerses the teachers and the students with the heat. It is as if the sun is engulfing the classrooms, boiling the students brains.

You can see the flames from hell in every English Classroom. Each one feeling as hot as drowning in lava.

“It’s ok,” we say.

We like it when the AC doesn’t work; but only slightly more than being assigned essays in three separate classes.

Heat is not rare for Doherty High School, but this time we’re hotter than a stolen tamale.

They try to say it’s not hot, but this class got rot pot clot of sweat on it. The heat torches the English classrooms–it leaves no survivors.

These furnaces turn children to boiling ingredients for the worst recipe ever: take thirty trapped teenagers with energy levels tanking. Put them into a boiling pot filled with a lot of thoughts and add the sweat beads dripping slowly off foreheads, evaporating near instantly in the oven of a classroom.

You can hear them, can’t you?

Every cry, in every class–you can hear them melting. They scream about the horrible, hot heat.

“It’s ok,” we say with dibble dibble drop drop–sweat dripping off foreheads.

We rather enjoy drowning in our own sweat!

After all, it’s so hot in here, we don’t need a microwave to make popcorn.

Sure, it’s hot; it is also toasty

The heat is just…


Let me explain:

Why did the pig stop going to class?

He was bacon in the heat.