It is amazing what can get a parent to sit up and actually pay attention.
As a team, we have been trying to get Sassy Girl's mother in for a meeting since September. We have scheduled two meetings, where she was a no-show. She received a personal invitation to our second night of conferences and was again a no-show. She has never returned a phone call, and it's a miracle of nature if she actually picks up the phone when you call. She's received three copies of the letter that went out at the end of the first semester indicating that Sassy Girl was - surprise, surprise - failing all five of her academic classes. She never signed and returned the letter. In short, when it comes to parenting, she's missing in action.
So, the other day, when Sassy Girl got mouthy in Mrs. Language's class it was apparently having to do with a disagreement over a dress code violation. Sassy Girl was showing a bit too much cleavage and Ms. Language told her to go to guidance and get something else to wear. At this point Ms. Language was being nice and giving Sassy Girl a chance to avoid a discipline referral by changing her top. Sassy Girl didn't see it that way and she got really sassy and the long and short of it was she ended up in In School Suspension (insert Happy Dance here) for three days.
Well.
We finally heard from Sassy Girl's Mom. She took offense at the fact that her daughter who "was not dressed bad", got in trouble because of a dress code violation. (Well, actually it was her reaction to the dress code violation and her mouth that got her in trouble, but I digress.) She wrote a note on the back of the referral that basically said that we had no business telling her daughter that she was violating dress code.
Eight months we've been trying to get this parent engaged. Eight months. We've been trying to get her to communicate with us about failing grades (and I mean free-fall failing grades) and her daughter's horrid behavior (which is why she has the failing grades - she's perfectly capable should be be so moved to actually try). Not a word. She's ignored us, stood us up, basically disappeared. God forbid she actually talks to us about something that will impact her daughter's life forever.
But oh, Lordy, how dare we say her daughter is flashing her boobs!!! Now that's cause to get pissed.
Good gracious. I hope I have halfway normal parents next year.
Wednesday, March 04, 2009
Monday, March 02, 2009
A Perfect Gift for a Student Teacher
This is Mrs. Jayhawker's last week. She's phasing out of teaching and is spending more time observing me and some other teachers at work. It's been a really good experience for both of us - she's awesome and if she wasn't moving Up North after graduation, I'd love to have her on board here at The School. Too bad Mr. Jayhawker is getting transferred.
Mrs. Eagle, Mrs. Duck and I are taking her out to dinner on Thursday to celebrate, and I've knit her a lovely lace wool scarf that she will need when she relocates Up North. However, that may not be the gift she appreciates the most. That gift she got today.
Sassy Girl is back - yes! - in ISS for the rest of the week.
Sassy Girl is probably one of the most annoying kids we have this year. I wouldn't mind her being annoying if she was quiet, but unfortunately, she's one of the loudest girls I've ever seen. She shouts out constantly. Walking in a room is a production for her. She has a little group of friends who think she's funnier than all get out when she sashays into the room, but for the most part the kids roll their eyes and just wish she would Shut The Hell Up. She is, of course, in My Fourth Period Class From the Very Depths of Hell Itself, along with her little group of friends, and if you can get through the period without wanting to kill her, it's a good day. For her, it's all about the seventh grade social scene.
Mom, of course, has stood us up for two parent meetings that we called and scheduled. Now, she won't answer the phone or return messages. She doesn't want to hear it.
Anyway, Sassy Girl apparently really got mouthy during Mrs. Language's class and so Mrs. Language wrote her up. Mrs. Squirrel, worked the referral and of course Sassy Girl pulled her stunt that Mrs. Language was - gasp! - lying about the whole thing.
Now, granted, Sassy Girl isn't that bright to start with, but this goes beyond stupid. For one thing, she tried this stunt just a few weeks ago when she said Mrs. Jayhawker was lying, so Mrs. Squirrel had Mrs. Jayhawker come in and basically tell her side of the story, and the long and short of it was that Mrs. Squirrel gave Sassy Girl absolute grief about lying and put her up in ISS for three days (of peace and quiet). Every time a kid says that a teacher is lying, Mrs. Squirrel will find someone to cover our class, and we'll go in her office and tell our side of the story. As Mrs. Squirrel says, "it never works out good for the kid, and they end up with lying to compound their sins."
Please note that we are blessed - blessed - with administrators who have our back and who believe us.
So, Mrs. Language goes in, tells the story and in a matter of minutes, Sassy Girl is a wailing, sniveling mass of tears, snot and what not in front of Mrs. Squirrel's desk. Mrs. Squirrel is looking disgusted at the scene, tells Sassy Girl to "Dry it up!" and get her books and bounces her out to ISS.
And these three days of peace away from Sassy Girl are probably the best present Mrs. Jayhawker could wish for.
Mrs. Eagle, Mrs. Duck and I are taking her out to dinner on Thursday to celebrate, and I've knit her a lovely lace wool scarf that she will need when she relocates Up North. However, that may not be the gift she appreciates the most. That gift she got today.
Sassy Girl is back - yes! - in ISS for the rest of the week.
Sassy Girl is probably one of the most annoying kids we have this year. I wouldn't mind her being annoying if she was quiet, but unfortunately, she's one of the loudest girls I've ever seen. She shouts out constantly. Walking in a room is a production for her. She has a little group of friends who think she's funnier than all get out when she sashays into the room, but for the most part the kids roll their eyes and just wish she would Shut The Hell Up. She is, of course, in My Fourth Period Class From the Very Depths of Hell Itself, along with her little group of friends, and if you can get through the period without wanting to kill her, it's a good day. For her, it's all about the seventh grade social scene.
Mom, of course, has stood us up for two parent meetings that we called and scheduled. Now, she won't answer the phone or return messages. She doesn't want to hear it.
Anyway, Sassy Girl apparently really got mouthy during Mrs. Language's class and so Mrs. Language wrote her up. Mrs. Squirrel, worked the referral and of course Sassy Girl pulled her stunt that Mrs. Language was - gasp! - lying about the whole thing.
Now, granted, Sassy Girl isn't that bright to start with, but this goes beyond stupid. For one thing, she tried this stunt just a few weeks ago when she said Mrs. Jayhawker was lying, so Mrs. Squirrel had Mrs. Jayhawker come in and basically tell her side of the story, and the long and short of it was that Mrs. Squirrel gave Sassy Girl absolute grief about lying and put her up in ISS for three days (of peace and quiet). Every time a kid says that a teacher is lying, Mrs. Squirrel will find someone to cover our class, and we'll go in her office and tell our side of the story. As Mrs. Squirrel says, "it never works out good for the kid, and they end up with lying to compound their sins."
Please note that we are blessed - blessed - with administrators who have our back and who believe us.
So, Mrs. Language goes in, tells the story and in a matter of minutes, Sassy Girl is a wailing, sniveling mass of tears, snot and what not in front of Mrs. Squirrel's desk. Mrs. Squirrel is looking disgusted at the scene, tells Sassy Girl to "Dry it up!" and get her books and bounces her out to ISS.
And these three days of peace away from Sassy Girl are probably the best present Mrs. Jayhawker could wish for.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Lost Books, Lockers, and Lazy Seventh Graders
Middle Schoolers are a strange bunch.
When they hit sixth grade they are nearly beside themselves with joy over the fact that they actually get a real, honest to goodness locker. It's a rite of passage for them. In elementary school they kept their books (and various sundry other articles like string, tech-decks, parts of ink pens, broken crayons, and goodness always knows what else) in their desks, but when they hit middle school they grow up (in theory) and get lockers.
Of course, to hear the sixth grade teachers tell it, it takes about half a year for them to figure out how to open the darn things. I believe they may be stretching it a bit.
However, for some weird reason, we have a bunch of seventh graders this year who just don't feel the need to use their lockers and proceed to leave their books just about anywhere they drop. I find books on the floor of my room, under tables, left on counters, out in the hall, you name it. This bunch of kids, of course, rarely ever have their books in class because - surprise! - they don't remember where they left them! What's strange is these kids all have lockers that work perfectly fine. They just choose, for whatever strange reason, not to use them. Most likely they are preferring to hang in the hallway gossiping with their friends and just don't have time to fiddle around with a combination lock.
We have one kid, Lazy Locker Boy, who thinks that his homeroom teacher, Mrs. Social Studies, is the keeper of his books. And if she's not keeping his books, apparently they're residing in my room.
Think again, kiddo.
Mrs. Social Studies and I hit our limit this week when, for something like the two hundredth time, we found all of Lazy Locker Boy's books scattered in our rooms. I decided to go to the big gun and that would be Mrs. Squirrel, the administrator in charge of textbooks. Mrs. Squirrel is determined never to have the school lose a single book so when she finds out that kids aren't taking care of books, she gets really, really irate. Really. It drives her nuts that kids can toss a sixty dollar text book out in the hallway where anyone can steal it, lose it, mutilate it, and so forth.
And trust me, although Mrs. Squirrel is a nature lover and is a kind, big-hearted softie when it comes to most kids and small animals, when she's irate, she's downright scary.
I dropped off the pile of books that belonged to Lazy Locker Boy and explained the situation to Mrs. Squirrel. Her eyes blazed. She said to send Lazy Locker Boy to her and she'd give him his books after she gave him a lecture and informed him that the next time his books found their way to her office he'd earn a discipline referral.
Lazy Locker Boy slunk back to his class and seemed to get the picture. No books were found strewn through the team area yesterday.
However.
Due to the age of our lockers, and the generally poor condition they are in, we have a number of lockers in our area that are broken and that don't close. These are not assigned to anyone (obviously, since they are not secure), and are supposed to be kept empty and clean.
Guess what I found in one of these broken lockers today?
Oh yeah...some of Lazy Locker Boy's books.
They are now sitting on the desk outside Mrs. Squirrel's office. Tomorrow should prove interesting.
When they hit sixth grade they are nearly beside themselves with joy over the fact that they actually get a real, honest to goodness locker. It's a rite of passage for them. In elementary school they kept their books (and various sundry other articles like string, tech-decks, parts of ink pens, broken crayons, and goodness always knows what else) in their desks, but when they hit middle school they grow up (in theory) and get lockers.
Of course, to hear the sixth grade teachers tell it, it takes about half a year for them to figure out how to open the darn things. I believe they may be stretching it a bit.
However, for some weird reason, we have a bunch of seventh graders this year who just don't feel the need to use their lockers and proceed to leave their books just about anywhere they drop. I find books on the floor of my room, under tables, left on counters, out in the hall, you name it. This bunch of kids, of course, rarely ever have their books in class because - surprise! - they don't remember where they left them! What's strange is these kids all have lockers that work perfectly fine. They just choose, for whatever strange reason, not to use them. Most likely they are preferring to hang in the hallway gossiping with their friends and just don't have time to fiddle around with a combination lock.
We have one kid, Lazy Locker Boy, who thinks that his homeroom teacher, Mrs. Social Studies, is the keeper of his books. And if she's not keeping his books, apparently they're residing in my room.
Think again, kiddo.
Mrs. Social Studies and I hit our limit this week when, for something like the two hundredth time, we found all of Lazy Locker Boy's books scattered in our rooms. I decided to go to the big gun and that would be Mrs. Squirrel, the administrator in charge of textbooks. Mrs. Squirrel is determined never to have the school lose a single book so when she finds out that kids aren't taking care of books, she gets really, really irate. Really. It drives her nuts that kids can toss a sixty dollar text book out in the hallway where anyone can steal it, lose it, mutilate it, and so forth.
And trust me, although Mrs. Squirrel is a nature lover and is a kind, big-hearted softie when it comes to most kids and small animals, when she's irate, she's downright scary.
I dropped off the pile of books that belonged to Lazy Locker Boy and explained the situation to Mrs. Squirrel. Her eyes blazed. She said to send Lazy Locker Boy to her and she'd give him his books after she gave him a lecture and informed him that the next time his books found their way to her office he'd earn a discipline referral.
Lazy Locker Boy slunk back to his class and seemed to get the picture. No books were found strewn through the team area yesterday.
However.
Due to the age of our lockers, and the generally poor condition they are in, we have a number of lockers in our area that are broken and that don't close. These are not assigned to anyone (obviously, since they are not secure), and are supposed to be kept empty and clean.
Guess what I found in one of these broken lockers today?
Oh yeah...some of Lazy Locker Boy's books.
They are now sitting on the desk outside Mrs. Squirrel's office. Tomorrow should prove interesting.
Friday, February 20, 2009
Finding Jeff Spicoli
I went to high school in Southern California in the late 70's. Remember the 1982 movie classic, "Fast Times at Ridgemont High"? That, my friends, could have easily been my high school. We actually had surfing as a physical education elective and it wasn't unusual to see stoned out surfer dudes sitting in class like the character of Jeff Spicoli, played by Sean Penn. In fact, my best friend Diane and I were often selected (because we were smart, nice girls and weren't likely to get crushes on idiots) to help peer tutor some of these potheads in a feeble attempt to help them graduate.
So to say that I know a stoner when I see one is a pretty fair assessment.
I have had, since day one of school, Spicoli Boy sitting in a dazed stupor in my Fourth Period Class From the Very Depths of Hell Itself. He's not a problem behavior-wise outside of the fact that there are times I feel a need to check his pulse to see that he's alive and hasn't just passed away sitting upright with his eyes half-closed. He never has a pencil. He never has paper. He never has a book, a binder, and certainly not a clue. I'm stunned, quite honestly, that he can even remember his schedule.
So imagine my surprise when I pull his records and find out that this kid is (was) as smart as a whip and actually was advanced on his Big Deal Government Mandated State Tests in the past. He did manage to pass sixth grade, although he exhibited a slide academically. This year, however, it's not a slide, but an out and out free-fall.
Every single one of us on the team has tried to reach this kid, pulling him aside to ask what's up, getting guidance to talk to him, seeing if he needs help with his locker, you name it. We have all tried getting his dad in for a meeting (parents are divorced, he lives with dad) which was singularly unsuccessful. My first call was three weeks into the school year and Spicoli Dad, who didn't sound all that focused himself, said he'd "take care of it". I've lost track of the phone calls we've made home.
Finally, Spicoli Mom made contact with guidance and after a few false starts we managed to get her in for a meeting to discuss what, if anything, we could do for this kid...after all, he did announce to Coach Math and his entire class that he was going to take the year off and just cruise because he'd get passed on anyway.
(Well, he's right, and that burns my ass like you have no idea, but that's a topic for another post.)
Our big dilemma was how to tell Spicoli Mom, without coming right out and saying "hey, your kid is stoned in class all the time," that her kid is, well, stoned in class all the time. That's a pretty serious accusation to make (without a drug test to back it up) and that could get us into some hot water.
Spicoli Mom seemed pretty together, and with it, and expressed her concern about his drop in grades, performance, and all. She was particularly interested in the fact that her ex refused to meet with us, and told us that he feels that Spicoli Boy is old enough to be responsible for his own schooling and he wasn't going to "baby-sit" him. (Great parenting skills there, eh?) She mentioned being concerned about the kids he hangs around with in the neighborhood, including an 8th grader and some high school kids, and would like to see a change in his choice of friends.
We all expressed concern about his lack of performance, pencil, paper, book, you name it, mentioned how he was "zoned", "spaced out", "not with us", in class, how he jumped when you called his name, how he didn't seem to socialize with kids on the team, just the older kids after school, and they were trouble. We mentioned that if she was concerned about his friends, "who could, perhaps, be doing things that aren't appropriate, such as experimenting with drugs and alcohol," that perhaps she and her ex may want to consider a change of school (she lives in another zone).
She nodded, expressed more concern, and said she'd see what she could do. She called me the next morning and said that Spicoli Boy cried big crocodile tears and said he always did all his work and turned it in and we all lost it and never gave him credit.
Really.
So, wanna guess who got popped, finally, for having a bit of weed on him the other day?
Think Spicoli Mom gets it now?
I'm not gambling on that one. Perhaps the judge will make it a bit more clear for her.
So to say that I know a stoner when I see one is a pretty fair assessment.
I have had, since day one of school, Spicoli Boy sitting in a dazed stupor in my Fourth Period Class From the Very Depths of Hell Itself. He's not a problem behavior-wise outside of the fact that there are times I feel a need to check his pulse to see that he's alive and hasn't just passed away sitting upright with his eyes half-closed. He never has a pencil. He never has paper. He never has a book, a binder, and certainly not a clue. I'm stunned, quite honestly, that he can even remember his schedule.
So imagine my surprise when I pull his records and find out that this kid is (was) as smart as a whip and actually was advanced on his Big Deal Government Mandated State Tests in the past. He did manage to pass sixth grade, although he exhibited a slide academically. This year, however, it's not a slide, but an out and out free-fall.
Every single one of us on the team has tried to reach this kid, pulling him aside to ask what's up, getting guidance to talk to him, seeing if he needs help with his locker, you name it. We have all tried getting his dad in for a meeting (parents are divorced, he lives with dad) which was singularly unsuccessful. My first call was three weeks into the school year and Spicoli Dad, who didn't sound all that focused himself, said he'd "take care of it". I've lost track of the phone calls we've made home.
Finally, Spicoli Mom made contact with guidance and after a few false starts we managed to get her in for a meeting to discuss what, if anything, we could do for this kid...after all, he did announce to Coach Math and his entire class that he was going to take the year off and just cruise because he'd get passed on anyway.
(Well, he's right, and that burns my ass like you have no idea, but that's a topic for another post.)
Our big dilemma was how to tell Spicoli Mom, without coming right out and saying "hey, your kid is stoned in class all the time," that her kid is, well, stoned in class all the time. That's a pretty serious accusation to make (without a drug test to back it up) and that could get us into some hot water.
Spicoli Mom seemed pretty together, and with it, and expressed her concern about his drop in grades, performance, and all. She was particularly interested in the fact that her ex refused to meet with us, and told us that he feels that Spicoli Boy is old enough to be responsible for his own schooling and he wasn't going to "baby-sit" him. (Great parenting skills there, eh?) She mentioned being concerned about the kids he hangs around with in the neighborhood, including an 8th grader and some high school kids, and would like to see a change in his choice of friends.
We all expressed concern about his lack of performance, pencil, paper, book, you name it, mentioned how he was "zoned", "spaced out", "not with us", in class, how he jumped when you called his name, how he didn't seem to socialize with kids on the team, just the older kids after school, and they were trouble. We mentioned that if she was concerned about his friends, "who could, perhaps, be doing things that aren't appropriate, such as experimenting with drugs and alcohol," that perhaps she and her ex may want to consider a change of school (she lives in another zone).
She nodded, expressed more concern, and said she'd see what she could do. She called me the next morning and said that Spicoli Boy cried big crocodile tears and said he always did all his work and turned it in and we all lost it and never gave him credit.
Really.
So, wanna guess who got popped, finally, for having a bit of weed on him the other day?
Think Spicoli Mom gets it now?
I'm not gambling on that one. Perhaps the judge will make it a bit more clear for her.
Monday, February 16, 2009
Of Tears and Toys and Thank Goodness We Have a Day Off
One thing about dealing with seventh graders is that you have a wide - and I mean wide - variety in maturity levels when dealing with these kids. You have kids who are interested in more adult things such as girls/boys, cars, sports, and the like, and then you have kids who are more interested in more child-oriented things like action figures, dolls, Hannah Montana, and the like.
On an aside, it always cracks me up how a girl will start the year proudly displaying her Hannah Montana school supplies (backpack, binder, notepads, etc.) and by the end of the year totally deny ever having an interested in anything so lame!
I'm still hanging out being useful in guidance and was there when the Guidance Goddess got a phone call from me from Ms. Language. Apparently one of our kids was having a melt-down in class and she wanted me to remove him and calm him down.
I grabbed my box of tissues and went to her room.
The child in question is Animation Boy. I love Animation Boy. Absolutely love this kid. He is, unfortunately, in my Fourth Period Class From the Very Depths of Hell Itself (Fifth period has, amazing, relinquished this title this semester, most likely after having three of the biggest trouble makers withdraw from school and move out of the area). Animation Boy has Asperger's and has trouble staying on task and definitely has trouble dealing with kids his own age. He's great with adults but the kids are too snotty to realize how funny and clever he is - he loves to create computer animations and if they could see some of his stuff he'd probably be a lot more accepted. But kids are jerks to those who are different, and so Animation Boy tends to be a bit of a loaner.
When I got to Ms. Language's class, Animation Boy had his head on his desk, his eyes were puffy with tears and you could tell he was mad. I had him grab his things and we went to sit in the guidance lobby so we could talk and I could get to the bottom of whatever was bothering him. (I was lucky in that there were actually seats in guidance as it's been a wild weak with fights and all sorts of shenanigans, mainly brought on by a warm weather streak.)
Apparently Animation Boy was having a meltdown over an issue with a Bukugan toy.
Don't feel bad, I didn't know what a Bukugan toy was either. However, Animation Boy spent about twenty minutes with me explaining the toys, showing me the toy in question, and basically educating me on the whole Bukugan culture at The School. They are, as best I can tell, cute little balls that open up and change shape when you put them on metal. They have different energy levels and ratings and are very collectible among a certain group of my students.
I had a great time listening to this kid go on and on about something that was obviously important to him, and I did get to the root of the problem which had to do with a trade, a sale of toys, a stolen toy, a found toy, and a kid who really wanted this rare model of the toy. Animation Boy did do the right thing, realizing that the kid who bought the toy actually paid money for it, and even if Animation Boy found it, he probably shouldn't keep it, so he gave it to me to give back to the owner of the toy.
And I only went through two tissues!
On an aside, it always cracks me up how a girl will start the year proudly displaying her Hannah Montana school supplies (backpack, binder, notepads, etc.) and by the end of the year totally deny ever having an interested in anything so lame!
I'm still hanging out being useful in guidance and was there when the Guidance Goddess got a phone call from me from Ms. Language. Apparently one of our kids was having a melt-down in class and she wanted me to remove him and calm him down.
I grabbed my box of tissues and went to her room.
The child in question is Animation Boy. I love Animation Boy. Absolutely love this kid. He is, unfortunately, in my Fourth Period Class From the Very Depths of Hell Itself (Fifth period has, amazing, relinquished this title this semester, most likely after having three of the biggest trouble makers withdraw from school and move out of the area). Animation Boy has Asperger's and has trouble staying on task and definitely has trouble dealing with kids his own age. He's great with adults but the kids are too snotty to realize how funny and clever he is - he loves to create computer animations and if they could see some of his stuff he'd probably be a lot more accepted. But kids are jerks to those who are different, and so Animation Boy tends to be a bit of a loaner.
When I got to Ms. Language's class, Animation Boy had his head on his desk, his eyes were puffy with tears and you could tell he was mad. I had him grab his things and we went to sit in the guidance lobby so we could talk and I could get to the bottom of whatever was bothering him. (I was lucky in that there were actually seats in guidance as it's been a wild weak with fights and all sorts of shenanigans, mainly brought on by a warm weather streak.)
Apparently Animation Boy was having a meltdown over an issue with a Bukugan toy.
Don't feel bad, I didn't know what a Bukugan toy was either. However, Animation Boy spent about twenty minutes with me explaining the toys, showing me the toy in question, and basically educating me on the whole Bukugan culture at The School. They are, as best I can tell, cute little balls that open up and change shape when you put them on metal. They have different energy levels and ratings and are very collectible among a certain group of my students.
I had a great time listening to this kid go on and on about something that was obviously important to him, and I did get to the root of the problem which had to do with a trade, a sale of toys, a stolen toy, a found toy, and a kid who really wanted this rare model of the toy. Animation Boy did do the right thing, realizing that the kid who bought the toy actually paid money for it, and even if Animation Boy found it, he probably shouldn't keep it, so he gave it to me to give back to the owner of the toy.
And I only went through two tissues!
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Have Tissues, Will Travel
There are things they don't teach you in teacher school (like how to deal with drug-sniffing dogs).
Dealing with crying kids in the throes of emotional meltdowns is one of them.
Since I'm trying to make myself useful while Mrs. Jayhawker is tending to my classes, I seem to have become a tear magnet.
On Friday, Miss Reading asked me to help with a crying student of ours, Cheer Girl, who was bawling in the corner and wanted to go home. Fine. I can deal with this. I already had Pinball Boy weep all over me earlier in the week, so this should be a piece of cake.
I pulled Cheer Girl into the waiting area of Mr. Enforcer's office, about the only quiet place we could talk, and listened while Cheer Girl sobbed out a story that went king of along the lines of "well Amanda and Stacey and this other girl, I don't remember her name - sob - and we're all friends - sob - and then there's these other girls in gym - sob - and they don't like Stacey - sob - but I don't know them - and they like Tristan and Derek and Stacey used to date Matt - sob - and they were giving us looks - sob - and then they started telling everyone - sob - that Tristan liked me, but I think he's a jerk - sob - and I'm not sure what their names are - sob - but they were telling people - sob - that I'm a slut - sob - and I don't want anyone to thing that of me - sob - and it's not true - sob - and I wanna go home!!!!"
Got that?
After about fifteen minutes of tears, I finally got her calmed down, did a little self-esteem talk, and convinced her that running and going home wasn't an option. She pulled herself together and managed to make it through the day.
And that was just the beginning.
Monday I managed to get tears out of another one of my kids when I read him the riot act about bullying and picking on another kid (who's mildly autistic). Honestly, the kid I was getting after isn't a bad kid, just a goober most of the time, but he needed to be reminded that picking on others was not going to tolerated.
Today I had to work a referral for a sixth grader who lost his mind in the lunchroom and stomped on a full container of orange juice. This isn't a really big deal, just ten points and an after school detention, but apparently my little juice stomper (who fully admitted to losing his mind and stomping on the juice container) had just come off being grounded at home and was afraid he'd go right back to being grounded. The tears flowed and flowed and flowed. Oh good gracious. I put a note on the back of the referral for mom and dad to call me with any questions, thinking that I could tell them that at least he owned up to his mistake and they might go a bit easy on him.
I can't wait to see what tomorrow brings. Regardless, I'm bringing along a big box of tissues.
Dealing with crying kids in the throes of emotional meltdowns is one of them.
Since I'm trying to make myself useful while Mrs. Jayhawker is tending to my classes, I seem to have become a tear magnet.
On Friday, Miss Reading asked me to help with a crying student of ours, Cheer Girl, who was bawling in the corner and wanted to go home. Fine. I can deal with this. I already had Pinball Boy weep all over me earlier in the week, so this should be a piece of cake.
I pulled Cheer Girl into the waiting area of Mr. Enforcer's office, about the only quiet place we could talk, and listened while Cheer Girl sobbed out a story that went king of along the lines of "well Amanda and Stacey and this other girl, I don't remember her name - sob - and we're all friends - sob - and then there's these other girls in gym - sob - and they don't like Stacey - sob - but I don't know them - and they like Tristan and Derek and Stacey used to date Matt - sob - and they were giving us looks - sob - and then they started telling everyone - sob - that Tristan liked me, but I think he's a jerk - sob - and I'm not sure what their names are - sob - but they were telling people - sob - that I'm a slut - sob - and I don't want anyone to thing that of me - sob - and it's not true - sob - and I wanna go home!!!!"
Got that?
After about fifteen minutes of tears, I finally got her calmed down, did a little self-esteem talk, and convinced her that running and going home wasn't an option. She pulled herself together and managed to make it through the day.
And that was just the beginning.
Monday I managed to get tears out of another one of my kids when I read him the riot act about bullying and picking on another kid (who's mildly autistic). Honestly, the kid I was getting after isn't a bad kid, just a goober most of the time, but he needed to be reminded that picking on others was not going to tolerated.
Today I had to work a referral for a sixth grader who lost his mind in the lunchroom and stomped on a full container of orange juice. This isn't a really big deal, just ten points and an after school detention, but apparently my little juice stomper (who fully admitted to losing his mind and stomping on the juice container) had just come off being grounded at home and was afraid he'd go right back to being grounded. The tears flowed and flowed and flowed. Oh good gracious. I put a note on the back of the referral for mom and dad to call me with any questions, thinking that I could tell them that at least he owned up to his mistake and they might go a bit easy on him.
I can't wait to see what tomorrow brings. Regardless, I'm bringing along a big box of tissues.
Saturday, February 07, 2009
Good Doggie, or The Most Interesting Things Happen When You Have a Student Teacher
Mrs. Jayhawker is flying solo this week (and doing a pretty good job of it, I might add), so I'm trying to make myself useful outside of my classroom. I've been getting a lot of team paperwork done, wrote a new benchmark quiz, and have done some one-on-one sessions with most of our kids to let them know what they need to do for the remainder of the school year to get academically promoted to eighth grade. For lack of a better place to work, I've sort of camped out in guidance, using a student laptop to work on stuff and hopefully lend a hand when needed (like the other day when Pinball Boy was having his meltdown.)
So, when Mr. Enforcer told me he'd need my help around 9 on Friday morning, I got curious.
"Something interesting going to happen?" I asked. I worked with him earlier in the year when we had a big deal disaster drill with some visiting consultants, and I knew they were coming back some time so I thought that might be it.
"Maybe," he said vaguely.
"Well, I have a student teacher so if there's anything she needs to know, I'd like to prep her," I said. I've been a sub and a student teacher and there's not much worse than being in a situation where you have no clue what to do.
"We may have some visitors and we may do a lockdown," he said. "Here's a print out of the procedure so she has it handy."
I thanked him, went in to see her (the kids were at their related arts) and gave her the lowdown, or what I knew so far. If she was lucky, it would happen at nine when all she had in the room were the kids that were supposed to show up for homework clinic.
I was on my way to Mr. Enforcer's Office when I heard him come over the intercom with the lockdown message. Kids were snatched into classrooms, doors went closed, and I hustled up to the front office to see a whole slew of law enforcement vehicles out front and a lot of officers in the lobby - with dogs!
Hey, it's a great day for a locker search!
It's no secret that drugs are a huge problem in schools, even elementary schools, sad to say, and even in schools in "good" communities. I taught in a nice rural area up North and we had a huge drug problem in that community (which always kind of made me shake my head when I'd hear parents yabber about how they moved to the country to escape the big city problems.) I've seen rich kids involved, and poor kids, and there's really no common denominator outside of the fact that they made some poor choices in life and were obviously missing something somewhere. We had regular sweeps, and managed to limit a lot of the drug problem at school because the kids knew that there could be a sweep at any time. True, they took the trade off-campus, but it did put a dent in the on-campus problems.
However, in the six years I've been at The School, we've never had a drug sweep. The first superintendent I served under absolutely refused to do so as he feared it would give the public the wrong idea. Honestly, I'd love it if they did the sweeps every quarter so the kids knew, like the ones up North, that bringing the stuff to school was a risk. Sadly, however, we've seen a big spike in drug trafficking in our area, including some rather large drug busts (one of which happened on parent conference day and made me wonder if perhaps some of my parents were a bit preoccupied with being arrested..) Our current superintendent decided it would be a good idea to sweep all the high schools and middle schools and see what they could find.
Mr. Enforcer gave me a bag of locker key masters and told me to go with one of the officers and sweep the sixth grade area. I ended up with an officer from a neighboring county who had a very sweet yellow lab who was prancing around and bubbling with excitement. It was obvious that this dog loved her job. We went through the sixth grade area, checked all the lockers, and the bathrooms, and came up clean. That was good.
"So," I asked the officer as we headed back to the main part of the building, "what would your dog do if she did smell something in a locker?"
"Oh, she'd sit down in front of it, like those dogs there," he said as we rounded the corner and spied two dogs sitting down in front of some lockers right outside my classroom.
Oh dear.
I knew who these lockers belonged to, and it wasn't even a surprise that the dogs got a hit on those lockers. One of the kids is the child of parents who deal in drugs (a well-known fact in the area) and has often been named as a source in the building although we've never been able to catch him with anything. The other is a kid who I've suspected was a user simply because of his demeanor most of the time. The officers searched these lockers, and came up empty for any illegal substances.
The only other hits were apparently quite a few down in the eighth grade wing, but again, a search was conducted and nothing was found. The officer I was with said that they often take the dogs to elementary schools and let the kids pet them and often the dog will indicate the presence of drugs on one of the children - they are so sensitive to the scent they will pick it up on clothing that a kid wears in a home where the parents are users. Considering the two lockers that were checked by my room, this didn't surprise me at all.
All in all it took an hour to sweep the building (and it was their second of the day) and then they were off to another school. Once the kids were released from lockdown and sent off to their classes the rumor mill began, so the teachers were instructed to let them know that they were put in lockdown to keep them out of the way, there was no danger, and this was a county-wide search and not a target at the school.
But you knew the rumor mill was going to go into high gear right away. Mrs. Language and Miss Reading asked me to come into their classes and talk to the kids about it ("Because you were in on the whole thing...") and I basically said that I wasn't telling them anything about what I saw, and if any of them heard from someone else whose locker was searched then they should consider it nothing but a lie and idle gossip because no students were out there and none of them have a clue what they are talking about. It didn't stop the kids from speculating (and amazingly, can you guess what names kept coming up? The kids who did have their lockers searched).
An unintended consequence of this whole thing? It got the kids so worked up that many of them started going to guidance and telling on kids they knew who had, in their possession, illegal substances. (Obviously, we didn't search the kids, they were in the classrooms.) By the end of the day we had expelled three for possession, sale, and use of prescription drugs. Raiding Mom and Dad's medicine cabinet has become big business for some of these kids (wonder how many of them are selling their own ADHD meds?) This is obviously a step up from a few years ago when my students were busy stealing over the counter cold medicine out of the bathroom cabinet and trying to get high off of that.
Just another one of those days that they don't prepare you for in teacher school...
So, when Mr. Enforcer told me he'd need my help around 9 on Friday morning, I got curious.
"Something interesting going to happen?" I asked. I worked with him earlier in the year when we had a big deal disaster drill with some visiting consultants, and I knew they were coming back some time so I thought that might be it.
"Maybe," he said vaguely.
"Well, I have a student teacher so if there's anything she needs to know, I'd like to prep her," I said. I've been a sub and a student teacher and there's not much worse than being in a situation where you have no clue what to do.
"We may have some visitors and we may do a lockdown," he said. "Here's a print out of the procedure so she has it handy."
I thanked him, went in to see her (the kids were at their related arts) and gave her the lowdown, or what I knew so far. If she was lucky, it would happen at nine when all she had in the room were the kids that were supposed to show up for homework clinic.
I was on my way to Mr. Enforcer's Office when I heard him come over the intercom with the lockdown message. Kids were snatched into classrooms, doors went closed, and I hustled up to the front office to see a whole slew of law enforcement vehicles out front and a lot of officers in the lobby - with dogs!
Hey, it's a great day for a locker search!
It's no secret that drugs are a huge problem in schools, even elementary schools, sad to say, and even in schools in "good" communities. I taught in a nice rural area up North and we had a huge drug problem in that community (which always kind of made me shake my head when I'd hear parents yabber about how they moved to the country to escape the big city problems.) I've seen rich kids involved, and poor kids, and there's really no common denominator outside of the fact that they made some poor choices in life and were obviously missing something somewhere. We had regular sweeps, and managed to limit a lot of the drug problem at school because the kids knew that there could be a sweep at any time. True, they took the trade off-campus, but it did put a dent in the on-campus problems.
However, in the six years I've been at The School, we've never had a drug sweep. The first superintendent I served under absolutely refused to do so as he feared it would give the public the wrong idea. Honestly, I'd love it if they did the sweeps every quarter so the kids knew, like the ones up North, that bringing the stuff to school was a risk. Sadly, however, we've seen a big spike in drug trafficking in our area, including some rather large drug busts (one of which happened on parent conference day and made me wonder if perhaps some of my parents were a bit preoccupied with being arrested..) Our current superintendent decided it would be a good idea to sweep all the high schools and middle schools and see what they could find.
Mr. Enforcer gave me a bag of locker key masters and told me to go with one of the officers and sweep the sixth grade area. I ended up with an officer from a neighboring county who had a very sweet yellow lab who was prancing around and bubbling with excitement. It was obvious that this dog loved her job. We went through the sixth grade area, checked all the lockers, and the bathrooms, and came up clean. That was good.
"So," I asked the officer as we headed back to the main part of the building, "what would your dog do if she did smell something in a locker?"
"Oh, she'd sit down in front of it, like those dogs there," he said as we rounded the corner and spied two dogs sitting down in front of some lockers right outside my classroom.
Oh dear.
I knew who these lockers belonged to, and it wasn't even a surprise that the dogs got a hit on those lockers. One of the kids is the child of parents who deal in drugs (a well-known fact in the area) and has often been named as a source in the building although we've never been able to catch him with anything. The other is a kid who I've suspected was a user simply because of his demeanor most of the time. The officers searched these lockers, and came up empty for any illegal substances.
The only other hits were apparently quite a few down in the eighth grade wing, but again, a search was conducted and nothing was found. The officer I was with said that they often take the dogs to elementary schools and let the kids pet them and often the dog will indicate the presence of drugs on one of the children - they are so sensitive to the scent they will pick it up on clothing that a kid wears in a home where the parents are users. Considering the two lockers that were checked by my room, this didn't surprise me at all.
All in all it took an hour to sweep the building (and it was their second of the day) and then they were off to another school. Once the kids were released from lockdown and sent off to their classes the rumor mill began, so the teachers were instructed to let them know that they were put in lockdown to keep them out of the way, there was no danger, and this was a county-wide search and not a target at the school.
But you knew the rumor mill was going to go into high gear right away. Mrs. Language and Miss Reading asked me to come into their classes and talk to the kids about it ("Because you were in on the whole thing...") and I basically said that I wasn't telling them anything about what I saw, and if any of them heard from someone else whose locker was searched then they should consider it nothing but a lie and idle gossip because no students were out there and none of them have a clue what they are talking about. It didn't stop the kids from speculating (and amazingly, can you guess what names kept coming up? The kids who did have their lockers searched).
An unintended consequence of this whole thing? It got the kids so worked up that many of them started going to guidance and telling on kids they knew who had, in their possession, illegal substances. (Obviously, we didn't search the kids, they were in the classrooms.) By the end of the day we had expelled three for possession, sale, and use of prescription drugs. Raiding Mom and Dad's medicine cabinet has become big business for some of these kids (wonder how many of them are selling their own ADHD meds?) This is obviously a step up from a few years ago when my students were busy stealing over the counter cold medicine out of the bathroom cabinet and trying to get high off of that.
Just another one of those days that they don't prepare you for in teacher school...
Wednesday, February 04, 2009
Pinball Bounces Out
I did not have a good day today. Pinball Boy has found himself, despite my best efforts to work with him, headed towards alternative school.
I hate it when kids I adore end up going to alternative school. (Long time readers (all two of you) may remember Stoopid Boy.) It breaks my heart. However, there comes a time when it's out of my hands and, as Mr. Enforcer said, "I've got to think about the other 24 kids in the class."
We had been, I thought, making headway. Mom finally got him on some medication so the hyperactivity was under control (no more crawling on the floor and leaping through the hallways which was huge). His grades were improving. He was staying out of trouble - finally. However, January came and something happened. Instead of being the sweet, loving kid we knew, he was getting smart, surly, and argumentative. He stopped trying in school, and he told us all that the meds were out at home and he didn't know when Mom was going to get more. He was talking back and generally finding trouble anywhere he could.
This week he not only missed after school detention (which is an automatic suspension for one day) but gave two different substitute teachers fits when Miss Reading was out with the flu. It was the straw that broke the camel's back.
I was in guidance working on some grade stuff (I'm having to stay out of my room a bit so Mrs. Jayhawker, my student teacher, can teach without the kids thinking she's not in charge) when Mr. Enforcer came looking for me.
"I need your help with a hysterical kid," he said, with a pained look on his face.
"One of mine?" I asked.
"It's Pinball Boy. He's going to alternative school and he's having a melt down."
"So you want me to play mommy?" I asked.
"Exactly."
Oh good gracious. Pinball Boy was a shaking, quivering, crying, sobbing mess. It took us quite a while to get him calmed down. He begged and begged and begged for just one more chance (honestly, he's a likable kid so he's been given a lot of chances, more than most, already). I ended up spending nearly an hour with him, getting him calmed down, talking with him about the pros of alternative school (the kids usually see a huge improvement in grades so he'll pass for the year), and how if he's really, really, really good they might send him back early (hey, it's happened).
What I really wanted to know was what happened last month that caused him to cease being the kid I knew and loved and turned him into a snotty little brat who didn't care about anything. And I finally - finally - got it out of him, in amongst the tears and the wails.
"My step dad got put in jail in January and mom works all the time and I never see her and I have to take care of all the little kids and I don't see my real dad enough!"
Oh crap.
I hate it when kids I adore end up going to alternative school. (Long time readers (all two of you) may remember Stoopid Boy.) It breaks my heart. However, there comes a time when it's out of my hands and, as Mr. Enforcer said, "I've got to think about the other 24 kids in the class."
We had been, I thought, making headway. Mom finally got him on some medication so the hyperactivity was under control (no more crawling on the floor and leaping through the hallways which was huge). His grades were improving. He was staying out of trouble - finally. However, January came and something happened. Instead of being the sweet, loving kid we knew, he was getting smart, surly, and argumentative. He stopped trying in school, and he told us all that the meds were out at home and he didn't know when Mom was going to get more. He was talking back and generally finding trouble anywhere he could.
This week he not only missed after school detention (which is an automatic suspension for one day) but gave two different substitute teachers fits when Miss Reading was out with the flu. It was the straw that broke the camel's back.
I was in guidance working on some grade stuff (I'm having to stay out of my room a bit so Mrs. Jayhawker, my student teacher, can teach without the kids thinking she's not in charge) when Mr. Enforcer came looking for me.
"I need your help with a hysterical kid," he said, with a pained look on his face.
"One of mine?" I asked.
"It's Pinball Boy. He's going to alternative school and he's having a melt down."
"So you want me to play mommy?" I asked.
"Exactly."
Oh good gracious. Pinball Boy was a shaking, quivering, crying, sobbing mess. It took us quite a while to get him calmed down. He begged and begged and begged for just one more chance (honestly, he's a likable kid so he's been given a lot of chances, more than most, already). I ended up spending nearly an hour with him, getting him calmed down, talking with him about the pros of alternative school (the kids usually see a huge improvement in grades so he'll pass for the year), and how if he's really, really, really good they might send him back early (hey, it's happened).
What I really wanted to know was what happened last month that caused him to cease being the kid I knew and loved and turned him into a snotty little brat who didn't care about anything. And I finally - finally - got it out of him, in amongst the tears and the wails.
"My step dad got put in jail in January and mom works all the time and I never see her and I have to take care of all the little kids and I don't see my real dad enough!"
Oh crap.
Carnival Time!
Steve Spangler is our host this week, and it's another good one! Be sure to spend some time at his Educational Science Fair!
Tuesday, February 03, 2009
Lemonade time...
The Bus Driver over at Tales of a Schoolbus Driver has bestowed upon me the “Lemonade” Award and it gave me some much needed blog love. Goodness knows, after the past two weeks I need a bit of love! Now I get to bestow it upon others!
Here are the rules:
1. You must link back to the person you received the award from.
2. You have to nominate 10 bloggers who are deserving of this award!
So, without further adieu, I hereby bestow The Lemonade Award upon:
1. Mrs. Cornelius over at A Shrewdness of Apes because she is a master at sarcasm and is one of the wittiest writers I've ever read. Her post a few years ago that was an open letter to idiot parents (something about using the UPS store as an address), was classic.
2. Cupcake over at A Truth Universally Acknowledged because she's an Austen fan (duh) as well and her descriptions of her geniuses leave me in stitches.
3. Chanman over at Buckhorn Road for reminding me, yet again, why I'm glad I don't live in California anymore.
4. Vegas Art Guy at The Desert Glows Green because I'm astounded at how much energy this guy has - does he ever sleep?
5. Elementary History Teacher over at History is Elementary because I totally borrowed her study guide idea (and it's rocking!) and because I can learn more reading her blog than I ever thought possible.
6. Happy Chyck over at Happy Chyck Wonders because I get depressed if she doesn't post much. She's just wonderful. And she edits yearbooks. Bless her.
7. Mrs. T. over at La Cucheria because she's another one I miss when she doesn't post much, she's funny, and I've found a lot of other good blogs through her recommendations.
8. Mr. Teacher over at Learn Me Good because his book rocks (buy it!) and because he's brave enough to teach 3rd grade, bless his little Darth Vader heart.
9. Princess Lionhead over at Princess Lionhead's Den because she's actually one of the few bloggers I've worked with in real life - she's a good friend and I miss her!
10. Secrets of a Middle School Secretary - she hasn't posted for a while, but when she does she reminds me of how much of the craziness the school secretaries keep at bay so we can do our jobs.
You are all wonderful!
Here are the rules:
1. You must link back to the person you received the award from.
2. You have to nominate 10 bloggers who are deserving of this award!
So, without further adieu, I hereby bestow The Lemonade Award upon:
1. Mrs. Cornelius over at A Shrewdness of Apes because she is a master at sarcasm and is one of the wittiest writers I've ever read. Her post a few years ago that was an open letter to idiot parents (something about using the UPS store as an address), was classic.
2. Cupcake over at A Truth Universally Acknowledged because she's an Austen fan (duh) as well and her descriptions of her geniuses leave me in stitches.
3. Chanman over at Buckhorn Road for reminding me, yet again, why I'm glad I don't live in California anymore.
4. Vegas Art Guy at The Desert Glows Green because I'm astounded at how much energy this guy has - does he ever sleep?
5. Elementary History Teacher over at History is Elementary because I totally borrowed her study guide idea (and it's rocking!) and because I can learn more reading her blog than I ever thought possible.
6. Happy Chyck over at Happy Chyck Wonders because I get depressed if she doesn't post much. She's just wonderful. And she edits yearbooks. Bless her.
7. Mrs. T. over at La Cucheria because she's another one I miss when she doesn't post much, she's funny, and I've found a lot of other good blogs through her recommendations.
8. Mr. Teacher over at Learn Me Good because his book rocks (buy it!) and because he's brave enough to teach 3rd grade, bless his little Darth Vader heart.
9. Princess Lionhead over at Princess Lionhead's Den because she's actually one of the few bloggers I've worked with in real life - she's a good friend and I miss her!
10. Secrets of a Middle School Secretary - she hasn't posted for a while, but when she does she reminds me of how much of the craziness the school secretaries keep at bay so we can do our jobs.
You are all wonderful!
Monday, February 02, 2009
Busted!
I have a student teacher, Mrs. Jayhawker (she's from Kansas) who is doing fantastic. I met her for the first time last year when she did an observation with Mrs. Eagle, and I was tickled to find out she'd do the first part of her student teaching with me. She's a Mom, has two middle school kids of her own, has subbed and has a lot more maturity and with-it-ness than some of the twenty-sometimes that come through my room during observations.
And she busted some cheaters.
We had our unit test on Friday, so I had Mrs. Jayhawker take them home and grade them over the weekend, while I took home the writing prompts and graded those. I figured the experience would be good for her. I got an email over the weekend telling me she suspected four girls (who all sit at the same table)of cheating as they all had identical answers (word for word) on their essay questions. In addition, two of the girls, who rarely pass a test on a good day, not only passed, but got A's!
This morning she showed me the tests and it was pretty obvious that there was some cheating involved. The same answers, the same misspellings, and my favorite, a couple of "floating" letters on the edge of the test where it looked as if someone asked for an answer, and another one of the girls had written it down for them.
Oh boy.
The worst thing is that these are good kids. Three of them were invited on our camping field trip for this spring (and have paid the nonrefundable deposit). Two of them should be regulars on the A/B honor roll. One is a basketball player whose mother manages the cafeteria.
To say I was disappointed (and let's be honest, a bit pissed off) was an understatement. Mrs. Social Studies and Ms. Language both looked at the tests and were just as upset as I was. So, we pulled the girls into my room before they went off to first period and see if they would come clean.
I started off asking them if they ever noticed the big "Make Good Choices" slide I have on my daily PowerPoint agenda. That's my mantra with these kids. I then asked them if any of them wanted to talk about the fact that they may not have made a good choice on Friday.
Silence. Serious, scared faces.
Mrs. Language gave them her mean face. Mrs. Social Studies shook her head in disgust. Mrs. Jayhawker took notes (I'm sure this was her "critical incident" she had to write about this week). The girls sat there.
We talked about how disappointed we were, how it was obvious something unusual had happened, how we were dismayed that they felt they had to stoop to cheating, how it takes at least two to cheat - one to copy and the other to let the copying happen.
Silence. Tears starting to flow for two of them.
I read the paragraph in the code of conduct that basically said I could write a discipline referral and they'd probably get detention or ISS or something. I opted, however, not to do that. Instead, I gave them lunch detention, they were having their seats changed, and they were taking the test again this afternoon.
And then Mrs. Language casually mentioned that we may not be able to take them camping as they've violated our trust. As a team we'd have to discuss it.
Silence and more tears.
I sent them on to their classes and Mrs. Social Studies said she was sure she could get one of the girls to confess. She did. She informed her that all four of them were engaged in the cheating.
When they showed up for lunch detention, they were a quiet, sober bunch. Part of the lunch detention ritual is that students have to write and sign a statement about why they were in detention and what they could do next time to stay out of detention. All of them admitted to the cheating and said they'd never do it again. They apologized. They groveled. It was obvious that the threat of getting kicked out of the camping trip made an impression.
During detention the basketball coach came in, saw her player's statement, shook her head and walked away in disgust. Player girl put her head down on her desk - in the meantime, her mother had emailed me back and said she'd support anything we wanted to do in terms of punishment, but did want us to know that she's grounded - no tv, cell phone, computer, etc. for an indefinite period of time.
They took their retakes sixth period. The results were as expected...one passed (the one the cheated off of) and the others bombed.
Figures.
And she busted some cheaters.
We had our unit test on Friday, so I had Mrs. Jayhawker take them home and grade them over the weekend, while I took home the writing prompts and graded those. I figured the experience would be good for her. I got an email over the weekend telling me she suspected four girls (who all sit at the same table)of cheating as they all had identical answers (word for word) on their essay questions. In addition, two of the girls, who rarely pass a test on a good day, not only passed, but got A's!
This morning she showed me the tests and it was pretty obvious that there was some cheating involved. The same answers, the same misspellings, and my favorite, a couple of "floating" letters on the edge of the test where it looked as if someone asked for an answer, and another one of the girls had written it down for them.
Oh boy.
The worst thing is that these are good kids. Three of them were invited on our camping field trip for this spring (and have paid the nonrefundable deposit). Two of them should be regulars on the A/B honor roll. One is a basketball player whose mother manages the cafeteria.
To say I was disappointed (and let's be honest, a bit pissed off) was an understatement. Mrs. Social Studies and Ms. Language both looked at the tests and were just as upset as I was. So, we pulled the girls into my room before they went off to first period and see if they would come clean.
I started off asking them if they ever noticed the big "Make Good Choices" slide I have on my daily PowerPoint agenda. That's my mantra with these kids. I then asked them if any of them wanted to talk about the fact that they may not have made a good choice on Friday.
Silence. Serious, scared faces.
Mrs. Language gave them her mean face. Mrs. Social Studies shook her head in disgust. Mrs. Jayhawker took notes (I'm sure this was her "critical incident" she had to write about this week). The girls sat there.
We talked about how disappointed we were, how it was obvious something unusual had happened, how we were dismayed that they felt they had to stoop to cheating, how it takes at least two to cheat - one to copy and the other to let the copying happen.
Silence. Tears starting to flow for two of them.
I read the paragraph in the code of conduct that basically said I could write a discipline referral and they'd probably get detention or ISS or something. I opted, however, not to do that. Instead, I gave them lunch detention, they were having their seats changed, and they were taking the test again this afternoon.
And then Mrs. Language casually mentioned that we may not be able to take them camping as they've violated our trust. As a team we'd have to discuss it.
Silence and more tears.
I sent them on to their classes and Mrs. Social Studies said she was sure she could get one of the girls to confess. She did. She informed her that all four of them were engaged in the cheating.
When they showed up for lunch detention, they were a quiet, sober bunch. Part of the lunch detention ritual is that students have to write and sign a statement about why they were in detention and what they could do next time to stay out of detention. All of them admitted to the cheating and said they'd never do it again. They apologized. They groveled. It was obvious that the threat of getting kicked out of the camping trip made an impression.
During detention the basketball coach came in, saw her player's statement, shook her head and walked away in disgust. Player girl put her head down on her desk - in the meantime, her mother had emailed me back and said she'd support anything we wanted to do in terms of punishment, but did want us to know that she's grounded - no tv, cell phone, computer, etc. for an indefinite period of time.
They took their retakes sixth period. The results were as expected...one passed (the one the cheated off of) and the others bombed.
Figures.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Big 'Ol Goose Egg
We had parent conferences tonight from 4:30 to 7:30 pm.
The conferences are open to any parent who chooses to come, plus we were encouraged to invite those parents we really need to see. Guidance had sent out failure letters a few weeks ago to 17 of our lovelies - which were supposed to be signed by a parent and returned, however, none have been - so we decided we would send a special invitation to these seventeen parents, plus a few others with kids who are borderline.
So, we reprinted the failure letters, attached an invitation asking them to come to the conference so we could figure out how to help their child, and stapled these into the kids' agendas.
Any guesses on how many parents The Team saw tonight?
Zero.
Nada.
Not. A. Single. Freaking. Parent.
I'm going to go bang my head against a wall.
The conferences are open to any parent who chooses to come, plus we were encouraged to invite those parents we really need to see. Guidance had sent out failure letters a few weeks ago to 17 of our lovelies - which were supposed to be signed by a parent and returned, however, none have been - so we decided we would send a special invitation to these seventeen parents, plus a few others with kids who are borderline.
So, we reprinted the failure letters, attached an invitation asking them to come to the conference so we could figure out how to help their child, and stapled these into the kids' agendas.
Any guesses on how many parents The Team saw tonight?
Zero.
Nada.
Not. A. Single. Freaking. Parent.
I'm going to go bang my head against a wall.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Carnival Time!
Sitting at home due to bad weather? Suffering the January blahs? Well, take a break and enjoy this week's Carnival of Education, hosted by The Reading Workshop!
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Germ Factories and Sound of Ice
Monday morning found Mrs. Social Studies crawling into class, unable to hear out of her left ear, her right ear wasn't much better, and her face was tingling. We found a sub and she went to the doctor and was diagnosed with a double ear infection. Before she left, she said it was weird not being able to hear anything the students were saying. In some cases, it might be considered a blessing.
Mrs. Social Studies was not alone. All three administrators are sick, with The Principal croaking her way through morning announcements as she's the only one with a voice. A whole slew of teachers were out with the flu and just about every other contagion available. And I had what I thought was perhaps strep throat (were talking pain, here) but the test came back negative and was diagnosed as a weird throat virus that's going around. Oh yippee. So it was ibuprofen, salt water gargles, cough drops, rest, and oh yeah, try not to talk.
They were calling for a Really Bad Winter Weather Event to hit our area, so we were all hoping for a snow day today. Honestly, with the number of kids sniffling and croaking in class and along with the amount of teachers that were sick as well, a snow day would have been a blessing.
Except it wasn't snow. It was ice.
When the alarm went off at 5:00, I checked the temperature (31 degrees) and looked outside. It was raining and everything was shining with a glaze of ice. The local news reported that school was closed, which was pretty much a no-brainer. Most of the counties in this part of the state closed due to ice.
Since I have trouble going back to sleep once I'm awake, I sort of lazed around a bit, watched the kitties wrestle and chase each other, and prayed we wouldn't lose power.
Mrs. Eagle called a few hours later to find out what I was doing.
"Just reading. Drinking hot liquids that make my throat feel better. You?"
"I've been up since 2:30 am," she said.
"Why on earth?" I asked her. Mrs. Eagle, like me, can be a light sleeper.
"That's when all the tree branches around the house started to snap. It sounded like shotgun blasts all night long. I kept wondering if one was going to come crashing through the roof," she said.
She had power still, which is a plus. According to the local news, there's quite a few places in the county that don't have any power and may not get any anytime soon. They are calling for more ice and snow tonight, and more power outages, so hubby and I have been collecting gear just in case - candles, the little portable generator, my Civil War reenacting cooking gear, the little BBQ, and briquettes. We figure if the power goes out and lasts more than a day or so, we can at least cook something hot to eat in the BBQ on the driveway. I used to do a lot of camping and cooking over open fires, so that skill may come in handy yet again. As long as I can make myself a hot cup of coffee, I'll be fine. Even if I have to make it in the rain and snow in my driveway.
As for school tomorrow? Who knows? We have parent teacher conferences scheduled for Thursday. Past experience points to the fact that the parents won't come out unless the weather is clear and dry. We may end up sitting there playing cards all night waiting for parents to show up.
That is if we even have school by then.
Mrs. Social Studies was not alone. All three administrators are sick, with The Principal croaking her way through morning announcements as she's the only one with a voice. A whole slew of teachers were out with the flu and just about every other contagion available. And I had what I thought was perhaps strep throat (were talking pain, here) but the test came back negative and was diagnosed as a weird throat virus that's going around. Oh yippee. So it was ibuprofen, salt water gargles, cough drops, rest, and oh yeah, try not to talk.
They were calling for a Really Bad Winter Weather Event to hit our area, so we were all hoping for a snow day today. Honestly, with the number of kids sniffling and croaking in class and along with the amount of teachers that were sick as well, a snow day would have been a blessing.
Except it wasn't snow. It was ice.
When the alarm went off at 5:00, I checked the temperature (31 degrees) and looked outside. It was raining and everything was shining with a glaze of ice. The local news reported that school was closed, which was pretty much a no-brainer. Most of the counties in this part of the state closed due to ice.
Since I have trouble going back to sleep once I'm awake, I sort of lazed around a bit, watched the kitties wrestle and chase each other, and prayed we wouldn't lose power.
Mrs. Eagle called a few hours later to find out what I was doing.
"Just reading. Drinking hot liquids that make my throat feel better. You?"
"I've been up since 2:30 am," she said.
"Why on earth?" I asked her. Mrs. Eagle, like me, can be a light sleeper.
"That's when all the tree branches around the house started to snap. It sounded like shotgun blasts all night long. I kept wondering if one was going to come crashing through the roof," she said.
She had power still, which is a plus. According to the local news, there's quite a few places in the county that don't have any power and may not get any anytime soon. They are calling for more ice and snow tonight, and more power outages, so hubby and I have been collecting gear just in case - candles, the little portable generator, my Civil War reenacting cooking gear, the little BBQ, and briquettes. We figure if the power goes out and lasts more than a day or so, we can at least cook something hot to eat in the BBQ on the driveway. I used to do a lot of camping and cooking over open fires, so that skill may come in handy yet again. As long as I can make myself a hot cup of coffee, I'll be fine. Even if I have to make it in the rain and snow in my driveway.
As for school tomorrow? Who knows? We have parent teacher conferences scheduled for Thursday. Past experience points to the fact that the parents won't come out unless the weather is clear and dry. We may end up sitting there playing cards all night waiting for parents to show up.
That is if we even have school by then.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Why I Have Really Grey Hair
I started going grey at 18, but I swear, the amount of grey has just exploded with this year's crop of seventh graders. I'll be solid silver by the time May hits.
Today we the last of our five benchmark days, and it was science. The kids hate benchmarks. They know they don't count towards their grades (although we put the score on PowerSchool so mom and dad could see it, should they care). They don't like that it messes up their routine. And they see it as a huge waste of time. Frankly, they really hate standardized tests of any kind.
I've been hearing the rest of the team moaning and freaking out over their scores which were just awful. It seemed they got lower as the week went by. So, when I went and scanned them this morning to see how they did, I wasn't expecting great things.
The good news? I had one proficient on the last benchmark. This time I had eight.
This is still, to me, unacceptable.
Mrs. Duck, Mrs. Eagle and I all had similar scores. Mrs. Eagle and I have never had scores this low in the three years we've been doing benchmarks. Ever. (Mrs. Duck is new to our school so she doesn't have any scores to compare.)
So I had a bit of a Come To Jesus meeting with these kids, especially since they couldn't wait to get their scores. They were sure they did fantastic.
I hated to burst their bubble, but burst it I did.
It was an interesting conversation. I laid it all there for them. Told them their scores were the lowest I've seen - and I knew they could do better (especially my advanced kids). Told them what they did well on (Mitosis) and what was weak (Cell organelles - this killed them as we spent weeks on this). Told them that last year the seventh grade overall had a 90% homework turn in percentage. This year? We're at 50%. I reminded them that they're only a year and a half away from high school - where there's no second chances, no late work, no passing unless you earn it.
They were pretty honest. They admitted to never studying their vocabulary words, not doing homework, not trying their best. They admitted, for the most part, that they don't like failure, but weren't motivated enough to really do much about it.
So I asked them what motivated them, what would get them to turn on the jets and start performing at the level I know they can.
The answer? There wasn't one. They couldn't really come up with anything that motivated them.
I find this tragic. And frustrating beyond belief.
Today we the last of our five benchmark days, and it was science. The kids hate benchmarks. They know they don't count towards their grades (although we put the score on PowerSchool so mom and dad could see it, should they care). They don't like that it messes up their routine. And they see it as a huge waste of time. Frankly, they really hate standardized tests of any kind.
I've been hearing the rest of the team moaning and freaking out over their scores which were just awful. It seemed they got lower as the week went by. So, when I went and scanned them this morning to see how they did, I wasn't expecting great things.
The good news? I had one proficient on the last benchmark. This time I had eight.
This is still, to me, unacceptable.
Mrs. Duck, Mrs. Eagle and I all had similar scores. Mrs. Eagle and I have never had scores this low in the three years we've been doing benchmarks. Ever. (Mrs. Duck is new to our school so she doesn't have any scores to compare.)
So I had a bit of a Come To Jesus meeting with these kids, especially since they couldn't wait to get their scores. They were sure they did fantastic.
I hated to burst their bubble, but burst it I did.
It was an interesting conversation. I laid it all there for them. Told them their scores were the lowest I've seen - and I knew they could do better (especially my advanced kids). Told them what they did well on (Mitosis) and what was weak (Cell organelles - this killed them as we spent weeks on this). Told them that last year the seventh grade overall had a 90% homework turn in percentage. This year? We're at 50%. I reminded them that they're only a year and a half away from high school - where there's no second chances, no late work, no passing unless you earn it.
They were pretty honest. They admitted to never studying their vocabulary words, not doing homework, not trying their best. They admitted, for the most part, that they don't like failure, but weren't motivated enough to really do much about it.
So I asked them what motivated them, what would get them to turn on the jets and start performing at the level I know they can.
The answer? There wasn't one. They couldn't really come up with anything that motivated them.
I find this tragic. And frustrating beyond belief.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
The Year of the Coma
Team leaders (such as moi) got an email from Guidance Goober with a link to PDF files of all the failure letters that The School sent out this week. If a student is failing two or more classes, a letter went home explaining the possibility of retention (which will rarely happen), summer school, non-academic promotions and so forth. The letters are to be signed and returned to the homeroom teachers, so that we know that the parents actually saw the letter and Junior didn't get home and destroy the mail before the parents came home.
Out of 103 letters that went out, any guesses on how many belonged to seventh graders?
Ah, come on...just guess...you know you want to.
How about 52?
Yup. Fifty-freakin'-two.
Mrs. Eagle's team had the winning number of 22. My team had 17 and the balance belonged to Mrs. Bunny's team.
Are we surprised? No.
Disappointed. Of course.
Seventh graders, as a rule, seem to go into a coma during the school year. From the recent brain studies I've seen on adolescent brains, there's actually hard science to back this up. It's called puberty, to be blunt. The body is putting so much energy into growth and hormones and all that makes this age group so annoying, and the brain pretty much flat lines for about, say, nine months to a year. We're lucky they don't actually lose cognitive skills. I'm surprised most of them are alert enough to cross the street without getting hit by a car.
If I had a dollar for every kid that failed my class as a seventh grader, then moved on to 8th grade and passed with A's and B's and then ended up - yes! - in honors science classes in high school, I could perhaps buy myself a nice new pair of Danskos. It's depressing.
That's seventh grade - the Year of the Coma.
Out of 103 letters that went out, any guesses on how many belonged to seventh graders?
Ah, come on...just guess...you know you want to.
How about 52?
Yup. Fifty-freakin'-two.
Mrs. Eagle's team had the winning number of 22. My team had 17 and the balance belonged to Mrs. Bunny's team.
Are we surprised? No.
Disappointed. Of course.
Seventh graders, as a rule, seem to go into a coma during the school year. From the recent brain studies I've seen on adolescent brains, there's actually hard science to back this up. It's called puberty, to be blunt. The body is putting so much energy into growth and hormones and all that makes this age group so annoying, and the brain pretty much flat lines for about, say, nine months to a year. We're lucky they don't actually lose cognitive skills. I'm surprised most of them are alert enough to cross the street without getting hit by a car.
If I had a dollar for every kid that failed my class as a seventh grader, then moved on to 8th grade and passed with A's and B's and then ended up - yes! - in honors science classes in high school, I could perhaps buy myself a nice new pair of Danskos. It's depressing.
That's seventh grade - the Year of the Coma.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Carnival Time!
BRRRR! It's cold out there, so hope on over to this week's Education Carnival at Education Examiner! Check it out - lots of good stuff there!
A Classic Question
From a phone message left for Mrs. Strawberry, the social studies teacher on Mrs. Eagle's team, after report cards went home on Tuesday:
"Hum, this is ________. I was just calling to see if you were the one who whited out my daughter's grades on her report card, or if she did it. Thanks!"
When Mrs. Strawberry called this mom back (after picking herself up off the floor from her laughing spasm) Mom explained that she pretty much knew who whited out not only this nine week's grades, but the grades from the last nine weeks, and the comments as well. She just wanted confirmation.
Hey, at least she got a phone call. No one on my team did.
"Hum, this is ________. I was just calling to see if you were the one who whited out my daughter's grades on her report card, or if she did it. Thanks!"
When Mrs. Strawberry called this mom back (after picking herself up off the floor from her laughing spasm) Mom explained that she pretty much knew who whited out not only this nine week's grades, but the grades from the last nine weeks, and the comments as well. She just wanted confirmation.
Hey, at least she got a phone call. No one on my team did.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
What a Little Bit of Relevance Will Do...
As I've mentioned before, our standards are changing next year. One of the grades getting worked over the most - SURPRISE! - is seventh grade science. We're losing about half our curriculum (matter and weather) to 6th and 8th grade, and we're inheriting new curriculum (DNA, genetics, geology, simple machines) from the 8th grade.
Peachy.
So, since the current 7th graders will get about nine weeks of matter - again - next year, and will miss DNA, genetics, geology, and simple machines, we're trying to cram some of this stuff in where we can so they don't hit high school without having been exposed to this stuff. (Of course they currently hit high school having forgotten nearly everything they learned in middle school so in some cases, it's a moot point.)
Since we're wrapping up the cell cycle, it was decided that this would be a good time to do a brief unit on DNA and genetics. Mrs. Eagle and Mrs. Duck have never taught this curriculum and it's been 8 years since I have, so we are, shall I say, a bit rusty.
Our book is void of any information on DNA outside of the fact that it's in a cell, so we've had to come up with ways to present this information to our kids. Fortunately, Mrs. Eagle and I went to a publisher's dog and pony show in December and got a whole bunch of free goodies that we're sort of test driving with this group of kids. (I'll be honest, I'm liking these materials.)
The past few days we've done Brainpops as introductions, and then moved on to some PowerPoints that we adapted from the sample materials. Since it's a lot of material to cover (and not much time due to benchmark testing - don't get me started) we are doing guided notes so the kids get the information down, and it's accurate.
I'll be honest. I love genetics. It's cool stuff. And it doesn't really get much more relevant for a kid than they realize how and why they ended up looking like they do, and how they go their nose from mom and their eye color from dad, and so on. It's neat. And you can talk about cool things like mutations (a good time to bring out the story of the Scottish Fold cats), and how diseases are passed on and just really cool stuff like careers and genetic engineering and, well, it's fun. Even if all you're doing is showing a PowerPoint and the kids are taking notes.
So here we are, the end of seventh period, and we've blasted through our notes and the bell has rung and two of my critters, Huggy Girl and Shy Boy come up to my desk.
"Shy Boy and I have decided that we'd rather stay in your class all day and learn about genetics than go to any of our other classes," said Huggy Girl. Shy Boy nods in agreement.
"Really?" I say. This is a surprise because these kids are not, not, not, A students - they're C, maybe, if they try, so this is something.
"Yeah, this was totally fun," says Huggy Girl. "We can't wait until tomorrow." More nods from Shy Boy.
Wow. I was stunned.
How often do you get a review like that?
Peachy.
So, since the current 7th graders will get about nine weeks of matter - again - next year, and will miss DNA, genetics, geology, and simple machines, we're trying to cram some of this stuff in where we can so they don't hit high school without having been exposed to this stuff. (Of course they currently hit high school having forgotten nearly everything they learned in middle school so in some cases, it's a moot point.)
Since we're wrapping up the cell cycle, it was decided that this would be a good time to do a brief unit on DNA and genetics. Mrs. Eagle and Mrs. Duck have never taught this curriculum and it's been 8 years since I have, so we are, shall I say, a bit rusty.
Our book is void of any information on DNA outside of the fact that it's in a cell, so we've had to come up with ways to present this information to our kids. Fortunately, Mrs. Eagle and I went to a publisher's dog and pony show in December and got a whole bunch of free goodies that we're sort of test driving with this group of kids. (I'll be honest, I'm liking these materials.)
The past few days we've done Brainpops as introductions, and then moved on to some PowerPoints that we adapted from the sample materials. Since it's a lot of material to cover (and not much time due to benchmark testing - don't get me started) we are doing guided notes so the kids get the information down, and it's accurate.
I'll be honest. I love genetics. It's cool stuff. And it doesn't really get much more relevant for a kid than they realize how and why they ended up looking like they do, and how they go their nose from mom and their eye color from dad, and so on. It's neat. And you can talk about cool things like mutations (a good time to bring out the story of the Scottish Fold cats), and how diseases are passed on and just really cool stuff like careers and genetic engineering and, well, it's fun. Even if all you're doing is showing a PowerPoint and the kids are taking notes.
So here we are, the end of seventh period, and we've blasted through our notes and the bell has rung and two of my critters, Huggy Girl and Shy Boy come up to my desk.
"Shy Boy and I have decided that we'd rather stay in your class all day and learn about genetics than go to any of our other classes," said Huggy Girl. Shy Boy nods in agreement.
"Really?" I say. This is a surprise because these kids are not, not, not, A students - they're C, maybe, if they try, so this is something.
"Yeah, this was totally fun," says Huggy Girl. "We can't wait until tomorrow." More nods from Shy Boy.
Wow. I was stunned.
How often do you get a review like that?
Friday, January 09, 2009
Here, there and everywhere?
Bully Boy, we think, is gone.
Bully Boy, of course, was in my Fifth Period From the Very Depths of Hell itself, and he was a piece of work. He could slam a kid into a locker right in front of three teachers and an administrator than deny that he ever did such a thing. It didn't matter that there were witnesses (and often times video)of his stunts, he never did anything wrong, it was everyone else's fault, and the world was picking on him. He threw things constantly and spent a great deal of time up in ISS. The ISS Teacher, who has the patience of a Saint and loves these kids like no other, could hardly stand him. He was rude, mean, had no work ethic, and basically was going no where but down-hill fast.
Of course, if you knew his story, it all made sense.
Bully Boy, when he showed up in August, wasn't even living with a biological family member. He was living with his mother's best friend who also happened to be his godmother. This woman, bless her heart, was trying to do the right thing for a kid who probably never appreciated a single thing she did for him - buying him a television, games, nice clothes, and keeping a roof over his head and food in his belly. His parents both have serious drug habits and spend a lot of time in and out of jail. Any money they may have go towards drugs so there's times Bully Boy went hungry when he was living with a parent. His dad, according to godmother, is a bully himself and most likely abusive. His lying and bullying are most likely survival techniques he's learned living in the conditions he's lived in.
He had, in short, been bounced from relative to relative and now to a family friend all his life.
He wasn't in school on Tuesday and when I sent out an email to my parent contacts with the new study guide, I got an email back from his godmother's mother (who works for the district and would print out the emails and give to her daughter who didn't have email), asking me to take her off the email list as Bully Boy was no longer living with her daughter.
Hum. Interesting. I didn't pursue it for a few days because for all I knew, Bully Boy was still in our zone. However, today, curiosity got the best of me and I emailed godmother's mother back and asked if she knew what was going on as we hadn't heard anyone and Bully Boy was a no show.
Oh boy, did I get an earful. Apparently her daughter had to take a job in another part of the state and decided she couldn't take him with her. Part of her decision was she was probably just worn down with the effort of trying to help him pass 7th grade, and the other was the parents decided they wanted him back (they are both apparently out of jail). In the three weeks since we left for break, Bully Boy has lived with his father, then moved in with his mother, then lived with a grandmother, and now is back with his mother in another city nearby.
She hasn't bothered to even try to enroll him in school as no one has called to get his records.
As godmother's mother said, "I've known this family for years and they are nothing but a nightmare."
No kidding.
So right now, who knows where this kid really is, who he's really living with, and how long it will last.
Any bets on whether he'll graduate from high school? Or even make it to high school?
And whose fault will that be??? It should be the parents' but we all know that the government will blame the teachers, the schools, the administrators.
I feel like the government's scapegoat.
Bully Boy, of course, was in my Fifth Period From the Very Depths of Hell itself, and he was a piece of work. He could slam a kid into a locker right in front of three teachers and an administrator than deny that he ever did such a thing. It didn't matter that there were witnesses (and often times video)of his stunts, he never did anything wrong, it was everyone else's fault, and the world was picking on him. He threw things constantly and spent a great deal of time up in ISS. The ISS Teacher, who has the patience of a Saint and loves these kids like no other, could hardly stand him. He was rude, mean, had no work ethic, and basically was going no where but down-hill fast.
Of course, if you knew his story, it all made sense.
Bully Boy, when he showed up in August, wasn't even living with a biological family member. He was living with his mother's best friend who also happened to be his godmother. This woman, bless her heart, was trying to do the right thing for a kid who probably never appreciated a single thing she did for him - buying him a television, games, nice clothes, and keeping a roof over his head and food in his belly. His parents both have serious drug habits and spend a lot of time in and out of jail. Any money they may have go towards drugs so there's times Bully Boy went hungry when he was living with a parent. His dad, according to godmother, is a bully himself and most likely abusive. His lying and bullying are most likely survival techniques he's learned living in the conditions he's lived in.
He had, in short, been bounced from relative to relative and now to a family friend all his life.
He wasn't in school on Tuesday and when I sent out an email to my parent contacts with the new study guide, I got an email back from his godmother's mother (who works for the district and would print out the emails and give to her daughter who didn't have email), asking me to take her off the email list as Bully Boy was no longer living with her daughter.
Hum. Interesting. I didn't pursue it for a few days because for all I knew, Bully Boy was still in our zone. However, today, curiosity got the best of me and I emailed godmother's mother back and asked if she knew what was going on as we hadn't heard anyone and Bully Boy was a no show.
Oh boy, did I get an earful. Apparently her daughter had to take a job in another part of the state and decided she couldn't take him with her. Part of her decision was she was probably just worn down with the effort of trying to help him pass 7th grade, and the other was the parents decided they wanted him back (they are both apparently out of jail). In the three weeks since we left for break, Bully Boy has lived with his father, then moved in with his mother, then lived with a grandmother, and now is back with his mother in another city nearby.
She hasn't bothered to even try to enroll him in school as no one has called to get his records.
As godmother's mother said, "I've known this family for years and they are nothing but a nightmare."
No kidding.
So right now, who knows where this kid really is, who he's really living with, and how long it will last.
Any bets on whether he'll graduate from high school? Or even make it to high school?
And whose fault will that be??? It should be the parents' but we all know that the government will blame the teachers, the schools, the administrators.
I feel like the government's scapegoat.
Wednesday, January 07, 2009
All I Want is a Good Night's Sleep
I never seem to get enough sleep. This isn't anything new. There's just never enough hours in the day to do all the things I need - and want - to do. There's school, but after that, there's the gym, the errands that need to be run (allergy shots, the market, trips to the post office, the chiropractor, etc), then on home for supper which I make, we eat, and I clean up. Then laundry, checking email (and hopefully blogging) and grading papers and cleaning house and on and on and on. If I'm lucky I can get some reading in and some knitting as well.
And I don't even have my own kids, or it would be worse.
One of my students today said he was doing a survey of what video game system each of his teachers owned and wanted to know which one I had.
"None," I said. "We don't have one."
The whole class gasped in shock. What? Someone without a video game system?
"Really? Not one?"
"Not one," I replied.
"What do you do?" he asked again. The kids all looked at me, wide-eyed. Really? What does one do without video games?
"Oh, I run errands. I cook dinner. I do laundry, I play with my cats, I talk with my husband, I read (this brought some looks of sheer horror to some of their faces), I watch movies, or the news, or History Channel, I knit, I do all sorts of things."
And as I said this, I realized that if I didn't have so darn much to do, it would, just maybe, be possible to get something like eight hours' sleep at night. A video game system would just cut into precious sleep time.
And I need my sleep time.
It seems that most of The Team, as well as most of the other Seventh Grade Teachers are suffering from sleep deprivation this week. Part of it is coming back off two glorious weeks where we could, for the most part, sleep all we want. I celebrated by taking naps on the couch with a warm cat or two for company. It was delightful. However, now we're back here at school, with most of us getting up at 5:00 am or so, and our minds are now fully engaged with all the drama and pathos that is Middle School.
Which is why, we discovered, most of us are waking up in the middle of the night and find that we can't go back to sleep.
For the past three nights I've awakened around 2:30 or 3:00 am and found that I can't go back to sleep. My mind just won't shut off. I try not to think of anything outside of pleasant sleepy thoughts, but my mind drifts off to thinking about an upcoming lesson, how we're going to handle our homework slackers this semester, things I need to do for a team meeting, and on and on.
And I'm still awake when the alarm goes off.
Sigh.
When is spring break?
And I don't even have my own kids, or it would be worse.
One of my students today said he was doing a survey of what video game system each of his teachers owned and wanted to know which one I had.
"None," I said. "We don't have one."
The whole class gasped in shock. What? Someone without a video game system?
"Really? Not one?"
"Not one," I replied.
"What do you do?" he asked again. The kids all looked at me, wide-eyed. Really? What does one do without video games?
"Oh, I run errands. I cook dinner. I do laundry, I play with my cats, I talk with my husband, I read (this brought some looks of sheer horror to some of their faces), I watch movies, or the news, or History Channel, I knit, I do all sorts of things."
And as I said this, I realized that if I didn't have so darn much to do, it would, just maybe, be possible to get something like eight hours' sleep at night. A video game system would just cut into precious sleep time.
And I need my sleep time.
It seems that most of The Team, as well as most of the other Seventh Grade Teachers are suffering from sleep deprivation this week. Part of it is coming back off two glorious weeks where we could, for the most part, sleep all we want. I celebrated by taking naps on the couch with a warm cat or two for company. It was delightful. However, now we're back here at school, with most of us getting up at 5:00 am or so, and our minds are now fully engaged with all the drama and pathos that is Middle School.
Which is why, we discovered, most of us are waking up in the middle of the night and find that we can't go back to sleep.
For the past three nights I've awakened around 2:30 or 3:00 am and found that I can't go back to sleep. My mind just won't shut off. I try not to think of anything outside of pleasant sleepy thoughts, but my mind drifts off to thinking about an upcoming lesson, how we're going to handle our homework slackers this semester, things I need to do for a team meeting, and on and on.
And I'm still awake when the alarm goes off.
Sigh.
When is spring break?
Tuesday, January 06, 2009
What are they feeding these kids?
The chickadees rolled back in today. It was pretty typical. They were excited and gabby - after all they hadn't seen each other for two whole weeks - and about six of them couldn't remember their locker combinations. Nothing out of the ordinary with that chain of events.
However.
Am I the only one who is astounded - just astounded - that you can actually notice a growth spurt in a kid in a two week time period???
Honestly, Pinball Boy is now my height! He wasn't my height on the last day of school before break, but today I could stand there and look him in the eye. It freaked me out so bad, I called Mrs. Social Studies over (she, like me, is not exactly tall).
"Is it me, or has Pinball Boy grown?" I asked her as Pinball Boy stood there and giggled and smiled, loving the attention.
She looked him up and down, and her eyes widened. "Oh my gosh, he is taller! What on earth did your momma feed you during break!?"
Pinball grinned and giggled some more and said she fed him lots of good stuff.
Well, it's working. That kid took a leap in height, and he wasn't the only one. Another of my homeroom kids, who was a frail tiny thing two weeks ago, had to have added on an inch, as well as some weight, during break. Amazing.
Of course I added to my frame as well, but it was all in my butt and my stomach. Such is life. It's back to Weight Watchers and the gym.
However.
Am I the only one who is astounded - just astounded - that you can actually notice a growth spurt in a kid in a two week time period???
Honestly, Pinball Boy is now my height! He wasn't my height on the last day of school before break, but today I could stand there and look him in the eye. It freaked me out so bad, I called Mrs. Social Studies over (she, like me, is not exactly tall).
"Is it me, or has Pinball Boy grown?" I asked her as Pinball Boy stood there and giggled and smiled, loving the attention.
She looked him up and down, and her eyes widened. "Oh my gosh, he is taller! What on earth did your momma feed you during break!?"
Pinball grinned and giggled some more and said she fed him lots of good stuff.
Well, it's working. That kid took a leap in height, and he wasn't the only one. Another of my homeroom kids, who was a frail tiny thing two weeks ago, had to have added on an inch, as well as some weight, during break. Amazing.
Of course I added to my frame as well, but it was all in my butt and my stomach. Such is life. It's back to Weight Watchers and the gym.
Monday, January 05, 2009
Easing into the New Year
Alas, it is over.
No more sleeping in. No more sitting in my jammies doing sudoko puzzles until noon. Not much college football left to watch (I swear, Daddy Bird and I watched just about every bowl game there was). No more afternoon movies with Hubster.
Yup, it's back to school.
We went back today. The kids, however, did not. I happen to love this. It gives us a day to kind of ease back into the routine (getting up at 5:00 am takes some getting used to again) and we get some good in-service time in.
Tomorrow, the chickadees come back to roost. Hopefully Santa gave them some work ethic and motivation for Christmas, but more likely he just hit them over the head with the hormone hammer. We'll see. It could be a pleasant surprise.
The good news is two of our worst-behaved and lowest achieving students withdrew on the Thursday before break. One, to a pre-adoptive foster home which is something this girl needed. She had the most useless foster parents I've ever encountered (wouldn't return calls, answer emails, basically were non-involved with this kids' academic and behavior problems) and she needed to be somewhere where someone might actually give a rip about her. The other was a young man who was living with his aunt and since he didn't bother to put forth any effort he was failing all his classes and was spending way too much time in ISS for back talk and generally being a pill. His father decided enough was enough and off he went to live with him in...North Dakota. Talk about a culture shock. I hope he has a warm coat because he's going to need it.
As for me, I need a nap.
No more sleeping in. No more sitting in my jammies doing sudoko puzzles until noon. Not much college football left to watch (I swear, Daddy Bird and I watched just about every bowl game there was). No more afternoon movies with Hubster.
Yup, it's back to school.
We went back today. The kids, however, did not. I happen to love this. It gives us a day to kind of ease back into the routine (getting up at 5:00 am takes some getting used to again) and we get some good in-service time in.
Tomorrow, the chickadees come back to roost. Hopefully Santa gave them some work ethic and motivation for Christmas, but more likely he just hit them over the head with the hormone hammer. We'll see. It could be a pleasant surprise.
The good news is two of our worst-behaved and lowest achieving students withdrew on the Thursday before break. One, to a pre-adoptive foster home which is something this girl needed. She had the most useless foster parents I've ever encountered (wouldn't return calls, answer emails, basically were non-involved with this kids' academic and behavior problems) and she needed to be somewhere where someone might actually give a rip about her. The other was a young man who was living with his aunt and since he didn't bother to put forth any effort he was failing all his classes and was spending way too much time in ISS for back talk and generally being a pill. His father decided enough was enough and off he went to live with him in...North Dakota. Talk about a culture shock. I hope he has a warm coat because he's going to need it.
As for me, I need a nap.
Saturday, December 27, 2008
Carnival Time!
The good bowl games aren't on, you've shopped yourself out, and you're still munching on left over peanut brittle and sugar cookies - why not hoist yourself out of that easy chair and take a gander at this week's Education Carnival hosted by the Big Wonk himself!
Friday, December 19, 2008
The Best Gifts...Ever!
I'm always just flattered and tickled to death when a student of mine presents me with a Christmas card or even a gift. A lot of my students have families where there's more month than money so the fact that they spent anything, even a dollar for some bubble bath at the Dollar Store, really touches my heart. I love the homemade cards (complete with misspellings - I'm supposed to have a "happy and heathy Christmas" this year), and the drawings of stout reindeer and flying cats (figure that one out) make my day. Even the coffee mugs (and we teachers have more coffee mugs than a Starbucks, don't we?) are appreciated.
However, every once in a while you get a gift from a student that really lets you know that they thought about it, carefully selected it, and it was definitely a gift that was intended for you and no one else.
Freckled Boy gave me one such gift this year. I love this kid. He's in my homeroom, and sits right in front of my teacher station. He's always the first kid in every morning, and he's made it his mission to take all the chairs down every day while at the same time engaging me in some of the most interesting conversations. He asked me this morning if I'd be here for a few minutes after the students were dismissed. Apparently his mother was bringing a few presents for him to hand out and he wanted to make sure I'd get mine. I assured him I'd be here, and then promptly forgot about the conversation with the craziness that is the half day before break.
After the buses rolled and the other kids were dismissed, I was walking back to my room and he came up with a shoebox-sized box wrapped in holiday paper.
"Merry Christmas Mrs. B!" he said as he handed me my gift and dashed off to deliver another one to Mrs. Language. (I found out later that he gave her a stapler!)
I went back to my room and unwrapped my package. First, I had to take off the outside paper. Then unroll lots and lots of tissue paper. And finally got to an object about 10 inches long that was also wrapped in paper. A giant pencil? A pen? What on earth?
It was a screwdriver.
Now this may not sound like the best gift ever but you have to kind of understand the back story here. Earlier this year my handy little screwdriver (both flat head and phillips head) was stolen from my pencil cup. I loved this screwdriver and used it all the time. It tightened the screws on the hole punches so they stayed in place. It allowed me to disassemble the hand crank pencil sharpener to remove the broken pieces of colored pencil that got stuck inside. It let me fix chairs and tables which are slowly falling apart on a regular basis. There probably wasn't a day that went by that I didn't use that thing. And it was stolen and that really ticked me off. We had a rash of thefts that week, and that was just icing on the cake.
Freckled Boy was actually standing in front of me when I discovered the missing screwdriver and he'd seen how often I'd used it. So he got me a new one. Granted this one is a lot bigger (I definitely won't be working on pencil sharpeners with this one!) but the fact that he took the time to think about what I really needed and then went out and got it, really made my day.
I totally love the little curly ribbons he tied on the top. I kept them on it when I put it in my pencil cup. It's an awesome screwdriver!
Just when I didn't think it could get any better, my team came trotting around the corner with sneaky grins on their faces and a big silver bag with shiny paper sticking out of the top. What on earth???
Inside? A big huge bottle of Bailey's Irish Cream and two Bailey's glasses, and a great card thanking me for being a great team leader.
Ahhhhh. Made me want to cry. I've got a great, wonderful, fantastic team!
However, every once in a while you get a gift from a student that really lets you know that they thought about it, carefully selected it, and it was definitely a gift that was intended for you and no one else.
Freckled Boy gave me one such gift this year. I love this kid. He's in my homeroom, and sits right in front of my teacher station. He's always the first kid in every morning, and he's made it his mission to take all the chairs down every day while at the same time engaging me in some of the most interesting conversations. He asked me this morning if I'd be here for a few minutes after the students were dismissed. Apparently his mother was bringing a few presents for him to hand out and he wanted to make sure I'd get mine. I assured him I'd be here, and then promptly forgot about the conversation with the craziness that is the half day before break.
After the buses rolled and the other kids were dismissed, I was walking back to my room and he came up with a shoebox-sized box wrapped in holiday paper.
"Merry Christmas Mrs. B!" he said as he handed me my gift and dashed off to deliver another one to Mrs. Language. (I found out later that he gave her a stapler!)
I went back to my room and unwrapped my package. First, I had to take off the outside paper. Then unroll lots and lots of tissue paper. And finally got to an object about 10 inches long that was also wrapped in paper. A giant pencil? A pen? What on earth?
It was a screwdriver.
Now this may not sound like the best gift ever but you have to kind of understand the back story here. Earlier this year my handy little screwdriver (both flat head and phillips head) was stolen from my pencil cup. I loved this screwdriver and used it all the time. It tightened the screws on the hole punches so they stayed in place. It allowed me to disassemble the hand crank pencil sharpener to remove the broken pieces of colored pencil that got stuck inside. It let me fix chairs and tables which are slowly falling apart on a regular basis. There probably wasn't a day that went by that I didn't use that thing. And it was stolen and that really ticked me off. We had a rash of thefts that week, and that was just icing on the cake.
Freckled Boy was actually standing in front of me when I discovered the missing screwdriver and he'd seen how often I'd used it. So he got me a new one. Granted this one is a lot bigger (I definitely won't be working on pencil sharpeners with this one!) but the fact that he took the time to think about what I really needed and then went out and got it, really made my day.
I totally love the little curly ribbons he tied on the top. I kept them on it when I put it in my pencil cup. It's an awesome screwdriver!
Just when I didn't think it could get any better, my team came trotting around the corner with sneaky grins on their faces and a big silver bag with shiny paper sticking out of the top. What on earth???
Inside? A big huge bottle of Bailey's Irish Cream and two Bailey's glasses, and a great card thanking me for being a great team leader.
Ahhhhh. Made me want to cry. I've got a great, wonderful, fantastic team!
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Popsicles Anyone?
We have our first snow day of the year today.
Well, actually it's more of an ice day since that's what's on the ground - and roads - hence the cancellation of school. It pretty much rained all day yesterday. However, when I left my house yesterday morning at 6:00 am it was 55 degrees on my front porch. When I got to school fifteen minutes later it had already dropped to 45 degrees. It continued to drop - and rain - all day long and by yesterday evening ice was starting to form.
Having spent about fifteen years up North where it snows and ices and generally is ugly from about November through March, I have some experience driving in stupid weather conditions. However, when ice is in the picture, I'm not driving anywhere. It's dangerous and it's scary and there's too many idiots with testosterone poisoning who think that because they have a four wheeled drive vehicle they can drive at high rates of speed on icy roads and nothing bad will happen to them. Wrong.
So I have a day off and I'm not terribly excited about it.
Why? Snow days are precious. We get three a year and using one right before we get off for our Christmas break is a waste of a perfectly good snow day. We can see the light at the end of the tunnel, so to speak. Snow days are better spent in the deep dark depths of January and February and even March where we don't have many extra days off, the weather is gloomy, the kids are cranky, and it seems like forever until there's something to look forward to.
But at least I'm not out there driving on that mess!
P.S. Some of you have commented on still having school in very cold snowy weather, so I probably haven't explained how things work down here. I was stunned - stunned - the first year I was here and a snow day was called as it was barely snowing (at least in my opinion as an economic refugee from Up North). However, maybe only 20%, at most, of our kids walk to school. The rest are bused in, some from about an hour away in the rural parts of the county. There is also no such thing as a straight road here. Everything is hilly, curvy and there are more rivers, branches of rivers, creeks and whatnot to cross to get anywhere in this area. So, when it gets icy (and we get more ice than snow), it gets treacherous and no one wants to be the person responsible for a bus crash on an iced over bridge or narrow rural road. So, they cancel school.
Well, actually it's more of an ice day since that's what's on the ground - and roads - hence the cancellation of school. It pretty much rained all day yesterday. However, when I left my house yesterday morning at 6:00 am it was 55 degrees on my front porch. When I got to school fifteen minutes later it had already dropped to 45 degrees. It continued to drop - and rain - all day long and by yesterday evening ice was starting to form.
Having spent about fifteen years up North where it snows and ices and generally is ugly from about November through March, I have some experience driving in stupid weather conditions. However, when ice is in the picture, I'm not driving anywhere. It's dangerous and it's scary and there's too many idiots with testosterone poisoning who think that because they have a four wheeled drive vehicle they can drive at high rates of speed on icy roads and nothing bad will happen to them. Wrong.
So I have a day off and I'm not terribly excited about it.
Why? Snow days are precious. We get three a year and using one right before we get off for our Christmas break is a waste of a perfectly good snow day. We can see the light at the end of the tunnel, so to speak. Snow days are better spent in the deep dark depths of January and February and even March where we don't have many extra days off, the weather is gloomy, the kids are cranky, and it seems like forever until there's something to look forward to.
But at least I'm not out there driving on that mess!
P.S. Some of you have commented on still having school in very cold snowy weather, so I probably haven't explained how things work down here. I was stunned - stunned - the first year I was here and a snow day was called as it was barely snowing (at least in my opinion as an economic refugee from Up North). However, maybe only 20%, at most, of our kids walk to school. The rest are bused in, some from about an hour away in the rural parts of the county. There is also no such thing as a straight road here. Everything is hilly, curvy and there are more rivers, branches of rivers, creeks and whatnot to cross to get anywhere in this area. So, when it gets icy (and we get more ice than snow), it gets treacherous and no one wants to be the person responsible for a bus crash on an iced over bridge or narrow rural road. So, they cancel school.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
When Smaller is Better
As I've mentioned before, we have a somewhat legendary class of seventh graders this year. We've been hearing about them for the past few years, beginning with the elementary teachers who were thrilled to see them move to middle school. (Interestingly, it wasn't one group from one elementary school - all three of the schools that feed into our building had a wild group of kids.)
The sixth grade teachers last year were ecstatic when they moved on to the 7th grade. Cheering and dancing in the halls doesn't begin to describe the joy.
This year the seventh grade teachers are counting the days until the end of May.
This was, coincidentally, the same year that Mrs. Eagle, Mrs. Robin and I volunteered to teach an 8th grade health class (Mrs. Robin taught 6th grade health), with a different group of kids every nine weeks. The drawback to this was that we had to cram five classes of seventh graders into four classes in order to give us the open period to teach the health class.
Most likely with any other group of kids (like the wonderful group we had last year) this would have worked out fine. With this group it was a recipe for disaster. We had our proof when we took our first benchmark.
I had one kid proficient. ONE. Uno. That was it. Mrs. Eagle and Mrs. Robin fared a bit better, but overall we still had only eight kids proficient in the entire school. What makes this even worse is that in the past, we've always been tops in the county when it came to scores, and our kids have always done better than their peers, despite being a low-income building with a fairly unmotivated population.
This was completely unacceptable to us, so as soon as we saw our scores we asked The Principal to come to our data chat to figure out what was going on.
What was going on was that we were spending so much time on management issues that we had precious little left to actually teach science. Our rooms are oddly shaped and somewhat small and we had kids crammed in there with every seat filled (and then some). The kids, who had trouble getting along with each other on good days, were having real problems with each other when they were crowded into our rooms. Even The Principal commented on the different feeling our rooms had with about five to six extra kids compared to the other teachers.
So, The Principal drafted some wonderful souls (librarian and guidance counselor) to take over the health classes, and we got to move kids from each of our big classes, thereby lowering the numbers, into an fifth section of science. This started right before Thankgsiving. It gave us a chance to build a class and put kids in there that were a good mix, as well as giving us a chance to separate kids who had no business being in the same room together.
I can't believe the difference.
I told the kids right up front why were doing this ("Your benchmarks were unacceptable which tells me you aren't learning what you should be.") and told them that this was one idea we had to help solve the problem. Three kids actually came up and thanked me for moving them to the new class so they could actually learn something. How often does that happen? I was able to get some kids away from each other, and the entire class noticed. My homeroom had four boys in there who could be case studies for severe ADHD. Two of them are now in the other class and my homeroom is actually somewhat peaceful.
Now granted, these classes aren't perfect (Fifth Period still gives me hives) but it's a whole lot better. The kids even noticed. A lot of them were delighted, after a few days, when they realized they were getting a lot more individual attention from me (I can help them rather than spend all period telling them to sit down, stop throwing things, keep their hands to themselves, blah, blah, blah.) They commented on that. They commented on how faster the classes went now that we were actually able to do something because deal with idiot behaviors. They love the fact that they actually have more room at their seats. It's been a good move all around.
They've taken two tests since the change and the grades have been quite a bit better then previously. Our next benchmark isn't until January, but we're hoping we'll see an improvement there.
They were so good (except for - guess who?! - Fifth Period) that I actually tried a lab today.
And it actually worked!
The sixth grade teachers last year were ecstatic when they moved on to the 7th grade. Cheering and dancing in the halls doesn't begin to describe the joy.
This year the seventh grade teachers are counting the days until the end of May.
This was, coincidentally, the same year that Mrs. Eagle, Mrs. Robin and I volunteered to teach an 8th grade health class (Mrs. Robin taught 6th grade health), with a different group of kids every nine weeks. The drawback to this was that we had to cram five classes of seventh graders into four classes in order to give us the open period to teach the health class.
Most likely with any other group of kids (like the wonderful group we had last year) this would have worked out fine. With this group it was a recipe for disaster. We had our proof when we took our first benchmark.
I had one kid proficient. ONE. Uno. That was it. Mrs. Eagle and Mrs. Robin fared a bit better, but overall we still had only eight kids proficient in the entire school. What makes this even worse is that in the past, we've always been tops in the county when it came to scores, and our kids have always done better than their peers, despite being a low-income building with a fairly unmotivated population.
This was completely unacceptable to us, so as soon as we saw our scores we asked The Principal to come to our data chat to figure out what was going on.
What was going on was that we were spending so much time on management issues that we had precious little left to actually teach science. Our rooms are oddly shaped and somewhat small and we had kids crammed in there with every seat filled (and then some). The kids, who had trouble getting along with each other on good days, were having real problems with each other when they were crowded into our rooms. Even The Principal commented on the different feeling our rooms had with about five to six extra kids compared to the other teachers.
So, The Principal drafted some wonderful souls (librarian and guidance counselor) to take over the health classes, and we got to move kids from each of our big classes, thereby lowering the numbers, into an fifth section of science. This started right before Thankgsiving. It gave us a chance to build a class and put kids in there that were a good mix, as well as giving us a chance to separate kids who had no business being in the same room together.
I can't believe the difference.
I told the kids right up front why were doing this ("Your benchmarks were unacceptable which tells me you aren't learning what you should be.") and told them that this was one idea we had to help solve the problem. Three kids actually came up and thanked me for moving them to the new class so they could actually learn something. How often does that happen? I was able to get some kids away from each other, and the entire class noticed. My homeroom had four boys in there who could be case studies for severe ADHD. Two of them are now in the other class and my homeroom is actually somewhat peaceful.
Now granted, these classes aren't perfect (Fifth Period still gives me hives) but it's a whole lot better. The kids even noticed. A lot of them were delighted, after a few days, when they realized they were getting a lot more individual attention from me (I can help them rather than spend all period telling them to sit down, stop throwing things, keep their hands to themselves, blah, blah, blah.) They commented on that. They commented on how faster the classes went now that we were actually able to do something because deal with idiot behaviors. They love the fact that they actually have more room at their seats. It's been a good move all around.
They've taken two tests since the change and the grades have been quite a bit better then previously. Our next benchmark isn't until January, but we're hoping we'll see an improvement there.
They were so good (except for - guess who?! - Fifth Period) that I actually tried a lab today.
And it actually worked!
Carnival Time!
Check it out over at Mamacita's page, and while you're there, bookmark it! She's awesome!
Wednesday, December 03, 2008
Hey Dude, Where's My Doorprize?
This is the sixth year we've used our science texts so we're due for new books next year. Assuming, of course, that there's money in the budget to pay for them. We've been told that they're in the budget, but you can guess what will be the first thing cut when the cutting begins.
And of course some nitwit will write a letter to the editor bemoaning the fact that we buy new books - Outrageious! Ridiculous! Information hasn't changed any! Why do we need books! What a waste of money! (I am not kidding here - it happens every year.)
Do you have any idea what a book looks like after six years of seventh graders have slung it in and out of lockers, tossed it on the floor, flung it in backpacks, and goodness knows what else?
Still, the books we use now have held up pretty well, yet will become almost useless next year when our new standards go into place. Simply put, about half of what I currently teach will be moved to 8th grade, some will go to 6th, and a lot of the 8th grade curriculum will come down to 7th. If we don't get new books about the only idea we've come up with is to have a class set of each grade level and mix and match as we go through the year. Not ideal, but workable.
And then there's the fact that our entire plant unit, which is in our current standards and will be in our new standards, is not found in any of the books used at the middle school level. We spend about six weeks every year with the books in the lockers and pull information from all sorts of outside sources.
Our district, apparently, selects textbooks a bit differently than some as they teachers actually select them, not someone sitting in central office who doesn't live eat and breathe standards day in and day out like we do. What this means is that the various publishers come to town, rent a hotel conference room, lay out a big buffet (free food is an important component here), does a big pitch on Why Our Product Is Your Best Choice, hands out some cool door prizes (free stuff, gift cards, you name it), and of course the swag...lots and lots of free samples.
We live for free samples.
Mrs. Standards made a comment in all the workshops we taught on the new standards this summer that every single one of us should go to these events, not only so we make a good decision on what we end up with, but so we can get the free stuff. We are, after all, living in fear of not having new material for our new curriculum, but if we have enough of these freebies, we'll at least have something to work with.
So, last night Mrs. Eagle and I went downtown to The Big Fancy Hotel, mooched at the buffet, sat through the presentation, and got a huge bag of free stuff. We walked in, were pointed out the middle school table and told to take a pile of samples.
We sat down and flipped open the student book and took a look at the table of contents.
"Oh my gosh," said Mrs. Eagle. "They actually have everything we'll be teaching...even plants."
We were impressed. The book was smaller (and lighter in weight) than what we currently use. They essentially cut out everything we won't be teaching with the new standards. This is a huge improvement as our current book is big, bulky, and we don't use half of the chapters. The standards were all over the place, the section review questions were designed with Bloom's in mind, and it had all the STEM stuff we need (Science Technology Engineering and Mathematics).
We also discovered that it has a companion workbook/book that is written at 2-3 grade levels below what the book is written at - instant differentiation! We loved this because it will really help the spec ed kids we teach as well as our lower readers, many of whom are completely lost when it comes to reading our book.
Technology was all over the place - pre-made PowerPoints, video quizzes, labs, you name it. Considering that we're going to have to teach some of the 8th grade content this year (squeezing in the stuff the kids will miss when the standards change) some of the free CD's and DVD's will be a big help. We'll be able to utilize some of the free stuff to teach this content, and that may give us a chance to test drive some of it.
All in all, we had a good time, got some neat stuff, and although we didn't win a door prize we were just tickled with what we did get.
Oh yeah, and the buffet rocked.
And of course some nitwit will write a letter to the editor bemoaning the fact that we buy new books - Outrageious! Ridiculous! Information hasn't changed any! Why do we need books! What a waste of money! (I am not kidding here - it happens every year.)
Do you have any idea what a book looks like after six years of seventh graders have slung it in and out of lockers, tossed it on the floor, flung it in backpacks, and goodness knows what else?
Still, the books we use now have held up pretty well, yet will become almost useless next year when our new standards go into place. Simply put, about half of what I currently teach will be moved to 8th grade, some will go to 6th, and a lot of the 8th grade curriculum will come down to 7th. If we don't get new books about the only idea we've come up with is to have a class set of each grade level and mix and match as we go through the year. Not ideal, but workable.
And then there's the fact that our entire plant unit, which is in our current standards and will be in our new standards, is not found in any of the books used at the middle school level. We spend about six weeks every year with the books in the lockers and pull information from all sorts of outside sources.
Our district, apparently, selects textbooks a bit differently than some as they teachers actually select them, not someone sitting in central office who doesn't live eat and breathe standards day in and day out like we do. What this means is that the various publishers come to town, rent a hotel conference room, lay out a big buffet (free food is an important component here), does a big pitch on Why Our Product Is Your Best Choice, hands out some cool door prizes (free stuff, gift cards, you name it), and of course the swag...lots and lots of free samples.
We live for free samples.
Mrs. Standards made a comment in all the workshops we taught on the new standards this summer that every single one of us should go to these events, not only so we make a good decision on what we end up with, but so we can get the free stuff. We are, after all, living in fear of not having new material for our new curriculum, but if we have enough of these freebies, we'll at least have something to work with.
So, last night Mrs. Eagle and I went downtown to The Big Fancy Hotel, mooched at the buffet, sat through the presentation, and got a huge bag of free stuff. We walked in, were pointed out the middle school table and told to take a pile of samples.
We sat down and flipped open the student book and took a look at the table of contents.
"Oh my gosh," said Mrs. Eagle. "They actually have everything we'll be teaching...even plants."
We were impressed. The book was smaller (and lighter in weight) than what we currently use. They essentially cut out everything we won't be teaching with the new standards. This is a huge improvement as our current book is big, bulky, and we don't use half of the chapters. The standards were all over the place, the section review questions were designed with Bloom's in mind, and it had all the STEM stuff we need (Science Technology Engineering and Mathematics).
We also discovered that it has a companion workbook/book that is written at 2-3 grade levels below what the book is written at - instant differentiation! We loved this because it will really help the spec ed kids we teach as well as our lower readers, many of whom are completely lost when it comes to reading our book.
Technology was all over the place - pre-made PowerPoints, video quizzes, labs, you name it. Considering that we're going to have to teach some of the 8th grade content this year (squeezing in the stuff the kids will miss when the standards change) some of the free CD's and DVD's will be a big help. We'll be able to utilize some of the free stuff to teach this content, and that may give us a chance to test drive some of it.
All in all, we had a good time, got some neat stuff, and although we didn't win a door prize we were just tickled with what we did get.
Oh yeah, and the buffet rocked.
Carnival Time!!
One of my dearest blogging friends is hosting this week -Mr. Teacher over at Learn Me Good (Buy his book - it's a riot! It will make great gifts for teacher friends!) He does a fantastic take on Dickens, so check it out!!!
Monday, November 24, 2008
Slice 'em and Dice 'em
We had our third After School Science Lab today.
It wasn't for the faint of heart (or stomach) as we dissected frogs.
Now, dissecting frogs is not in our curriculum. In fact, the kids don't even get to dissect until they hit high school biology. However, every single year the first question we get asked is "Will we be dissecting frogs this year?" The kids are obsessed with the idea of dissecting frogs. So, when we found a tub of frogs in the lab (bought a few years ago for a science club thing and never used) Mrs. Eagle and I thought it would be a good idea to reward the kids who've come to our after school labs and let them dissect. After all, they kept asking for it.
So, this lab was by invitation only - we invited the kids who've shown enough interest to come to the previous labs - and they all knew beforehand what we'd be doing. Mrs. Eagle and I didn't want some kid coming who couldn't handle dissection and would faint and cause a lot of paperwork. It had been so long since I've dissected anything that I ended up asking Mrs. Standard, our science consulting teacher with the district, to send me some handouts.
We had the frogs, the kids, the worksheets, and all the tools.
And we had a blast.
None of these kids had ever done anything like this before, and I was amazed at how well they did. They took their time. They made careful cuts and incisions. They referred to the worksheets to identify the various objects they saw. And they really worked those frogs over, just looking at stuff.
"Hey, look, ours is female it has eggs!" yelled one pair.
"Cool! You can see the liver right there!" was another comment.
"Man, eyeballs are hard!" exclaimed another.
They loved it. One student said she was glad she did the lab because she's been thinking of being a surgeon and wanted to make sure she could deal with it. The only complaint, really, was the smell, but believe me, it was a lot better than the smell of the frogs I dealt with in High School that were preserved in pure formaldehyde.
I can't wait to hear them talking about it tomorrow!
It wasn't for the faint of heart (or stomach) as we dissected frogs.
Now, dissecting frogs is not in our curriculum. In fact, the kids don't even get to dissect until they hit high school biology. However, every single year the first question we get asked is "Will we be dissecting frogs this year?" The kids are obsessed with the idea of dissecting frogs. So, when we found a tub of frogs in the lab (bought a few years ago for a science club thing and never used) Mrs. Eagle and I thought it would be a good idea to reward the kids who've come to our after school labs and let them dissect. After all, they kept asking for it.
So, this lab was by invitation only - we invited the kids who've shown enough interest to come to the previous labs - and they all knew beforehand what we'd be doing. Mrs. Eagle and I didn't want some kid coming who couldn't handle dissection and would faint and cause a lot of paperwork. It had been so long since I've dissected anything that I ended up asking Mrs. Standard, our science consulting teacher with the district, to send me some handouts.
We had the frogs, the kids, the worksheets, and all the tools.
And we had a blast.
None of these kids had ever done anything like this before, and I was amazed at how well they did. They took their time. They made careful cuts and incisions. They referred to the worksheets to identify the various objects they saw. And they really worked those frogs over, just looking at stuff.
"Hey, look, ours is female it has eggs!" yelled one pair.
"Cool! You can see the liver right there!" was another comment.
"Man, eyeballs are hard!" exclaimed another.
They loved it. One student said she was glad she did the lab because she's been thinking of being a surgeon and wanted to make sure she could deal with it. The only complaint, really, was the smell, but believe me, it was a lot better than the smell of the frogs I dealt with in High School that were preserved in pure formaldehyde.
I can't wait to hear them talking about it tomorrow!
Saturday, November 22, 2008
What a Buck Will Buy
Fund raising is, unfortunately, a fact of life with our school. A lot of our funding got cut this last year, even our Title 1 funds, so we've been scrambling to figure out how to pay for things like, say, copies, incentives for the kids, and new materials.
One of our biggest fund raisers over the past few years has been our Fall Festival. Most of the schools around here have them, and they bring in a lot of money, even in our zone. They're kind of fun as they bring in the families, not just the students, so you see the parents and often times the siblings of the kids you currently teach. We also get a kids from the high school we feed into who come over to help run booths. They're mostly from the ROTC program and the Band and it's nice to see how some of our kids turned out after we've set them free from middle school.
So, Mrs. Eagle and I were wanting to come up with an easy fund-raiser for seventh grade science. We're in need of money to buy some materials to go with our new standards so we're submitting grants and doing whatever we can to get some money, realizing full well that it may take a few years before we get enough to do anything with it.
We've done hair painting int he past, but have grown bored with it. Besides, it costs money to buy the colored hair spray and you get tired of breathing in the fumes after a couple of hours. We let student council take over that booth this year. What we wanted was something that wasn't messy, that didn't cost hardly anything to do, and that appealed to the middle school mind. The middle school mind, after all, will spend money on some of the dumbest things.
We came up with the Pillow Fight booth.
All we needed were four pillows ($2.50 a piece at Walmart), some pillow cases ($1.00 a piece at Dollar General) and some football helmets (borrowed from a football coach). I had a timer, we made a sign, grabbed some chairs, roped off a ring with yarn and basically charged the kids a dollar each to beat each other with pillows for one minute.
We made over a hundred dollars.
Talk about an easy way to make money. The kids loved it, although some of them didn't think a minute was long enough until they actually did it. We probably should have sold bottled water to the combatants after they finished since most of them were panting and pretty worn out. It was pretty good entertainment, to be honest. Most of the boys just whomped away at each other, while the girls would start giggling so hard they could hardly swing a pillow. We had some sibling pairs duke it out, plus a few parents who let their kids beat at them with a pillow.
My favorite was an 8th grader who let his little brother, who may have been all of four, beat at him with a pillow. The little guy was going wap-wap-wap-wap with the pillow and every once in a while his older brother would tap him on the head with his pillow. Not often you see a kid that age being that nice to a little sibling. The little guy was beaming when he finished.
Gotta love it when you score a hit with the kids, and make money to boot!
One of our biggest fund raisers over the past few years has been our Fall Festival. Most of the schools around here have them, and they bring in a lot of money, even in our zone. They're kind of fun as they bring in the families, not just the students, so you see the parents and often times the siblings of the kids you currently teach. We also get a kids from the high school we feed into who come over to help run booths. They're mostly from the ROTC program and the Band and it's nice to see how some of our kids turned out after we've set them free from middle school.
So, Mrs. Eagle and I were wanting to come up with an easy fund-raiser for seventh grade science. We're in need of money to buy some materials to go with our new standards so we're submitting grants and doing whatever we can to get some money, realizing full well that it may take a few years before we get enough to do anything with it.
We've done hair painting int he past, but have grown bored with it. Besides, it costs money to buy the colored hair spray and you get tired of breathing in the fumes after a couple of hours. We let student council take over that booth this year. What we wanted was something that wasn't messy, that didn't cost hardly anything to do, and that appealed to the middle school mind. The middle school mind, after all, will spend money on some of the dumbest things.
We came up with the Pillow Fight booth.
All we needed were four pillows ($2.50 a piece at Walmart), some pillow cases ($1.00 a piece at Dollar General) and some football helmets (borrowed from a football coach). I had a timer, we made a sign, grabbed some chairs, roped off a ring with yarn and basically charged the kids a dollar each to beat each other with pillows for one minute.
We made over a hundred dollars.
Talk about an easy way to make money. The kids loved it, although some of them didn't think a minute was long enough until they actually did it. We probably should have sold bottled water to the combatants after they finished since most of them were panting and pretty worn out. It was pretty good entertainment, to be honest. Most of the boys just whomped away at each other, while the girls would start giggling so hard they could hardly swing a pillow. We had some sibling pairs duke it out, plus a few parents who let their kids beat at them with a pillow.
My favorite was an 8th grader who let his little brother, who may have been all of four, beat at him with a pillow. The little guy was going wap-wap-wap-wap with the pillow and every once in a while his older brother would tap him on the head with his pillow. Not often you see a kid that age being that nice to a little sibling. The little guy was beaming when he finished.
Gotta love it when you score a hit with the kids, and make money to boot!
Friday, November 14, 2008
It's All in the Fundamentals
Last night was the home opener for Middle School Basketball Season.
We played one of our cross town rivals. The school with the 8th grader who's 6'5" tall, an AB student, and an overall nice kid. He's supposedly better at baseball. Hard to believe. Of course, all he had to do all night was stand there and tip balls into the net, but still. He's the total package. Nice kid, good student, good athlete. He probably helps little old ladies with their groceries.
Coach Math, the new math teacher on The Team, is our new boys basketball coach this year. This is an added bonus. We were tickled to death to get a really good, highly thought of math teacher, but the fact that he coaches, well, that was just icing on the cake. Finding a good coach, one who can motivate the kids (and stand dealing with them for a lot more hours than most of us do), is not easy to do. The pay isn't all that great, and it makes for some really long days.
The rest of us on the team decided to make sure we all attended the game so we could support Coach Math. We also got him a card, wishing him luck with the season. He's had a bit of an adjustment coming to The School. He used to teach across town, at a school where most kids had both parents, both parents had jobs, and kids did their homework and excelled. He's used to a school where an F on a progress report means a parent phone call or email. Now he's with us, and he's figuring out that the parents of our students are, for the most part, missing in action. We sent home progress reports last week and not one of us on the team got so much as a phone call or an email. Nothing. It's a big adjustment when you're used to a lot more parental support and some higher achievers.
But if anyone can make it work, it's Coach Math.
We asked him this week at lunch what he thought of his team. "Well," he said, "they really need work on fundamentals. They play too much street ball. We may win some, we may lose some, but they'll know the real game when we're done."
It was a different team than we've ever seen play before. We're used to the kids playing street ball, with a collection of hotshots and a couple of kids who make the hotshots look even better. The hotshot kids always bothered me. For the most part they tended to be punks who only did well academically during the season, and let their true colors shine once the season was over when they did stupid stuff to get suspended and who knows what else. They had what I call the "PacMan Jones Disease" - people made excuses for their bad behavior because they were good athletes and the kids believed the were God's gift to basketball.
Coach Math put a stop to that. A kid couldn't even try out for the team if the first nine week report card wasn't satisfactory. That eliminated a bunch of the kids who thought they were superstars but weren't cutting it academically. It also eliminated a bunch of the troublemakers who caused problems for coaches in the past. Coach Math wasn't putting up with thuggish behavior. Two days after the team was announced, one of his players got a write up and was sent to ISS. Coach kicked him off the team. That really sent a message.
So what he ended up with was a team with no hot shot superstars, but some nice kids and some decent kids when it came to the grades. Nothing to write home about, but the raw talent was there.
The raw talent produced. They played team ball. They passed, they dribbled, they took their time, they listened to directions from the coach, they worked as a team. And, even with the Six Foot Wunderkid on the opposing team, they hung in there and the game was a close one all the way until the final buzzer.
When it was tied and went into overtime.
And for the first time in my six years at The School, the students who were there attending the game (who usually spend the games gossiping, socializing, and ingesting copious quantities of junk food and soda) were on their feet cheering and screaming and going crazy. All of the teachers in attendance looked at each other in awe. "Do you see that?" we all asked. "They've never done that before!" It was a sight to see.
And the overtime seemed to stretch forever with one team scoring and then the other, and back down the court, and another basket, and then we got fouled, and the toss was nothing but net and we, amazingly, astoundingly, won the game!
We cheered. We screamed. The boys looked stunned. Then they all jumped on each other and screamed and yelled and Coach was giving them high-fives and it was like Christmas and the Fourth of July all rolled into one.
Coach Math made those kids believe in themselves and worked some magic.
And it was just the first game.
We played one of our cross town rivals. The school with the 8th grader who's 6'5" tall, an AB student, and an overall nice kid. He's supposedly better at baseball. Hard to believe. Of course, all he had to do all night was stand there and tip balls into the net, but still. He's the total package. Nice kid, good student, good athlete. He probably helps little old ladies with their groceries.
Coach Math, the new math teacher on The Team, is our new boys basketball coach this year. This is an added bonus. We were tickled to death to get a really good, highly thought of math teacher, but the fact that he coaches, well, that was just icing on the cake. Finding a good coach, one who can motivate the kids (and stand dealing with them for a lot more hours than most of us do), is not easy to do. The pay isn't all that great, and it makes for some really long days.
The rest of us on the team decided to make sure we all attended the game so we could support Coach Math. We also got him a card, wishing him luck with the season. He's had a bit of an adjustment coming to The School. He used to teach across town, at a school where most kids had both parents, both parents had jobs, and kids did their homework and excelled. He's used to a school where an F on a progress report means a parent phone call or email. Now he's with us, and he's figuring out that the parents of our students are, for the most part, missing in action. We sent home progress reports last week and not one of us on the team got so much as a phone call or an email. Nothing. It's a big adjustment when you're used to a lot more parental support and some higher achievers.
But if anyone can make it work, it's Coach Math.
We asked him this week at lunch what he thought of his team. "Well," he said, "they really need work on fundamentals. They play too much street ball. We may win some, we may lose some, but they'll know the real game when we're done."
It was a different team than we've ever seen play before. We're used to the kids playing street ball, with a collection of hotshots and a couple of kids who make the hotshots look even better. The hotshot kids always bothered me. For the most part they tended to be punks who only did well academically during the season, and let their true colors shine once the season was over when they did stupid stuff to get suspended and who knows what else. They had what I call the "PacMan Jones Disease" - people made excuses for their bad behavior because they were good athletes and the kids believed the were God's gift to basketball.
Coach Math put a stop to that. A kid couldn't even try out for the team if the first nine week report card wasn't satisfactory. That eliminated a bunch of the kids who thought they were superstars but weren't cutting it academically. It also eliminated a bunch of the troublemakers who caused problems for coaches in the past. Coach Math wasn't putting up with thuggish behavior. Two days after the team was announced, one of his players got a write up and was sent to ISS. Coach kicked him off the team. That really sent a message.
So what he ended up with was a team with no hot shot superstars, but some nice kids and some decent kids when it came to the grades. Nothing to write home about, but the raw talent was there.
The raw talent produced. They played team ball. They passed, they dribbled, they took their time, they listened to directions from the coach, they worked as a team. And, even with the Six Foot Wunderkid on the opposing team, they hung in there and the game was a close one all the way until the final buzzer.
When it was tied and went into overtime.
And for the first time in my six years at The School, the students who were there attending the game (who usually spend the games gossiping, socializing, and ingesting copious quantities of junk food and soda) were on their feet cheering and screaming and going crazy. All of the teachers in attendance looked at each other in awe. "Do you see that?" we all asked. "They've never done that before!" It was a sight to see.
And the overtime seemed to stretch forever with one team scoring and then the other, and back down the court, and another basket, and then we got fouled, and the toss was nothing but net and we, amazingly, astoundingly, won the game!
We cheered. We screamed. The boys looked stunned. Then they all jumped on each other and screamed and yelled and Coach was giving them high-fives and it was like Christmas and the Fourth of July all rolled into one.
Coach Math made those kids believe in themselves and worked some magic.
And it was just the first game.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
The Veterans Among Us
We had our annual Veteran's Day Ceremony this past Friday.
For some schools this may not be a big deal, but for our school, it is A Very Big Deal. In fact, this is probably the Biggest Deal Assembly we have all year.
Why?
Because over half our parents are either active duty military, reservists (who have been put on active duty) or are veterans.
Because many of our teachers, one administrator, our school nurse, a lot of our bus drivers, a handful of our cafeteria workers, and three of our janitors are veterans.
Because many of our teachers are spouses of active duty military or are the spouses of veterans. They've raised their own families, taught other's children, and did this all with their spouse overseas a huge amount of the time.
Because many of our students are going through the fourth and fifth deployment of one, and sometimes both, parents.
Because this year, for the second time, we lost a parent in combat.
Our kids know the meaning of the song Taps. It makes many of them cry unabashedly in front of their friends, forgetting, for once, to be cool. It will strike this gym full of middle schoolers into absolute, respectful, silence.
Our kids know to give a huge cheer for the Brigadier General and Korean War vet who came to speak, but saved the biggest cheer for the young Army Private who was one of our honored guests.
For our kids, veterans are woven into the fabric of their lives.
And I can't help but think how fortunate they are to have these people in their lives.
For some schools this may not be a big deal, but for our school, it is A Very Big Deal. In fact, this is probably the Biggest Deal Assembly we have all year.
Why?
Because over half our parents are either active duty military, reservists (who have been put on active duty) or are veterans.
Because many of our teachers, one administrator, our school nurse, a lot of our bus drivers, a handful of our cafeteria workers, and three of our janitors are veterans.
Because many of our teachers are spouses of active duty military or are the spouses of veterans. They've raised their own families, taught other's children, and did this all with their spouse overseas a huge amount of the time.
Because many of our students are going through the fourth and fifth deployment of one, and sometimes both, parents.
Because this year, for the second time, we lost a parent in combat.
Our kids know the meaning of the song Taps. It makes many of them cry unabashedly in front of their friends, forgetting, for once, to be cool. It will strike this gym full of middle schoolers into absolute, respectful, silence.
Our kids know to give a huge cheer for the Brigadier General and Korean War vet who came to speak, but saved the biggest cheer for the young Army Private who was one of our honored guests.
For our kids, veterans are woven into the fabric of their lives.
And I can't help but think how fortunate they are to have these people in their lives.
Monday, November 10, 2008
I Should Have Worn a Disguise
My first teaching job was in a town of 9,000. This was back when I did the Big Deal Career Change and went back to school to become a teacher. I had a previous degree (B.S. in Business Management) and a pulse so I was hired by one of my professors, who also happened to be Superintendent of Schools, to work as a permanent substitute teacher when I wasn't in class.
I did this for three years and probably learned more about being a teacher by subbing than I ever did in a college classroom.
I also learned that with the job comes a certain lack of privacy, especially when you've probably been in every classroom in a small district and everyone under the age of 18 knows who you are. It got to the point that The Hubster and I would head east about 10 miles to the first town that wasn't in our district to do our shopping and eating out. We didn't have any privacy in the town we lived in - everyone knew what everyone did, where they ate, what they bought, who they spent time with. You couldn't work in the yard in your grubbies with your hair up on top of your head and dirt all over your face without having a visit from at least one student or parent in the neighborhood.
So, when I moved South (being an economic refugee from Up North, the Land of Taxes and No Jobs), one of the things I made certain of was that I didn't live in the same zone I taught in. I didn't want a long commute, but I also didn't want the lack of privacy I had before. Most of the time it works pretty well. I do run into kids at The Mall, and often at the Walmart near The School, but for the most part I live my life in relative obscurity which is how we like it.
And then I lost my mind this past Sunday and wanted to save some time and ended up shopping in The Zone.
Actually, my church is in The Zone, but it's a small country church and I never see students there, just the regular church goers and Mrs. Eagle and her family. So this past Sunday, after services and a quick trip to the gym, I realized I needed to get gas and go to the market. Now my usual grocery store is on the opposite side of town from where I was. It's not even that close to where I live, but I live in a part of town that's fairly new in terms of development so we don't have any markets near us. We got lucky and finally got a pizza joint this past year. We got a Walgreens a few months ago and people were ecstatic because they actually have some food items there and you don't have to drive twenty minutes to the closest market when all you need is some milk.
For a moment or two, I toyed with the idea of just going to my regular market. However, that would probably take an extra half hour and I was right near a Kroger, and one with gas pumps, and I could kill two birds with one stone so to speak. And after all, what are the chances of running into a student? It's Sunday morning, everyone is either at church, or breakfast, or somewhere else.
So, I did what I never do, and that's shop at the market in The Zone.
And ran into three students.
The parents are tickled to see me. One of the boys wasn't (he should be embarrased by the progress report that went out on Friday) but his mother made sure to come up and say hi and comment on how he should be embarrassed by his progress report. Hey, I was happy she actually saw it since many kids like to pretend they don't exist and don't show it to their folks. The other two students, both girls, giggled and smiled and commented on the fact that I was - gasp! - shopping.
Just like normal people do. Hell, I even use coupons because I'm on a budget like everyone else.
I think they believe we sleep under our desks.
It wasn't that bad, actually, although I know I'll have about a dozen kids come up to me tomorrow and comment on the fact that they heard I was at the Kroger store nearby. It could have been worse. I could have been buying liquor!
I did this for three years and probably learned more about being a teacher by subbing than I ever did in a college classroom.
I also learned that with the job comes a certain lack of privacy, especially when you've probably been in every classroom in a small district and everyone under the age of 18 knows who you are. It got to the point that The Hubster and I would head east about 10 miles to the first town that wasn't in our district to do our shopping and eating out. We didn't have any privacy in the town we lived in - everyone knew what everyone did, where they ate, what they bought, who they spent time with. You couldn't work in the yard in your grubbies with your hair up on top of your head and dirt all over your face without having a visit from at least one student or parent in the neighborhood.
So, when I moved South (being an economic refugee from Up North, the Land of Taxes and No Jobs), one of the things I made certain of was that I didn't live in the same zone I taught in. I didn't want a long commute, but I also didn't want the lack of privacy I had before. Most of the time it works pretty well. I do run into kids at The Mall, and often at the Walmart near The School, but for the most part I live my life in relative obscurity which is how we like it.
And then I lost my mind this past Sunday and wanted to save some time and ended up shopping in The Zone.
Actually, my church is in The Zone, but it's a small country church and I never see students there, just the regular church goers and Mrs. Eagle and her family. So this past Sunday, after services and a quick trip to the gym, I realized I needed to get gas and go to the market. Now my usual grocery store is on the opposite side of town from where I was. It's not even that close to where I live, but I live in a part of town that's fairly new in terms of development so we don't have any markets near us. We got lucky and finally got a pizza joint this past year. We got a Walgreens a few months ago and people were ecstatic because they actually have some food items there and you don't have to drive twenty minutes to the closest market when all you need is some milk.
For a moment or two, I toyed with the idea of just going to my regular market. However, that would probably take an extra half hour and I was right near a Kroger, and one with gas pumps, and I could kill two birds with one stone so to speak. And after all, what are the chances of running into a student? It's Sunday morning, everyone is either at church, or breakfast, or somewhere else.
So, I did what I never do, and that's shop at the market in The Zone.
And ran into three students.
The parents are tickled to see me. One of the boys wasn't (he should be embarrased by the progress report that went out on Friday) but his mother made sure to come up and say hi and comment on how he should be embarrassed by his progress report. Hey, I was happy she actually saw it since many kids like to pretend they don't exist and don't show it to their folks. The other two students, both girls, giggled and smiled and commented on the fact that I was - gasp! - shopping.
Just like normal people do. Hell, I even use coupons because I'm on a budget like everyone else.
I think they believe we sleep under our desks.
It wasn't that bad, actually, although I know I'll have about a dozen kids come up to me tomorrow and comment on the fact that they heard I was at the Kroger store nearby. It could have been worse. I could have been buying liquor!
Tuesday, November 04, 2008
Accountability
The Team came back from Fall Break, rested, rejuvenated, and refreshed, only to notice that, one week into the new grading period, our kiddos were doing pretty much nothing. They weren't doing homework and even some of them couldn't manage to turn in in-class assignments.
My homework turn in percentage the past few years has been really high. For one, I assign it on Monday and it's due on Friday. I usually give the students a choice on which assignments they want to do (I'll list four, they do two). The homework itself is practice for what we've done in class, but if they have questions on it, I do have homework helpers that they can use during am homeroom, pm homeroom, or check out to take home - some of my special education students get the helpers stapled into their agendas or emailed home to their parents. It essentially gives the answers to the homework, so even if a kid is completely clueless, if he or she copies down the correct information, at least it was in front of them for that one time. (That idea isn't original - it came from an NMSA conference I went to a few years ago.) However, even with choices, even with four days to do the assignments, and even with the answers right there in front of them, they didn't bother to turn any work in - this is a huge change from previous years when I had nearly all my kids turning in work.
I wasn't alone. All the teachers in the seventh grade have the same problem, and even some of the eighth graders are exhibiting vast degrees of laziness. One of the eighth grade teams has implemented a homework clinic during lunch where the kids who owed work had to eat in a teacher's classroom and work on their homework at the same time. This seems to work pretty well as the kids started turning in work, rather than miss their social time, and at the same time their test scores and grades started to improve (especially in Math.)
Our Mr. Math was at another school last year that really targeted these kids who turn out to be, for the most part, our at-risk population. We took a little of what he did at his old school, a little what the 8th graders were doing, and came up with the Friday Homework Clinic.
By Monday afternoon, the teachers on my team have emailed me the names of all the kids with missing work for this grading period. I can cut and paste all this into an Excel spreadsheet (PowerSchool, our new grading program, makes this soooo easy), sort the kids by name, and have a print out of who owes what work.
On Tuesday morning I hand out to the kids a slip of paper with all their missing assignments listed. They have until Thursday afternoon to get this work made up and turned in, otherwise, they miss their first period elective class on Friday. Instead of doing art, or PE, or band, or computers, they are assigned to one of our rooms where they have to sit and work. We try to assign the kids to the teacher they need the most help with (for example if most of the work they owe is Math, Mr. Math gets them). This way they can get more individual attention. (I also make sure all my teammates have a copy of my Homework Helpers so that is available to help the kids as well).
The first week we did this, out of 120 kids, we had 88 who initially had to attend the clinic.
By Friday morning that number was down to about 68.
They were not happy. At all. However, they did turn in a lot of work. For some kids this was the first work we'd seen out of them all year. When I went home and graded papers this weekend, I couldn't believe how many students had managed to not only turn in their missing assignments, but managed to pull their grades up as well.
The Principal, by the way, absolutely loves that we're doing this. I got her blessing before we started. As she says, we have absolutely got to get these kids growing academically, and if it means having high expectations and accountability, so be it.
This week our number of kids missing assignments is 73. Of that number, about 20 of them are kids who owe one assignment and can, quite honestly, get that turned in before the Thursday deadline. That would give us about 53. That's still a high number, but better than the week before. It may take a few weeks for some of them to realize that we're serious.
At it costs us is a bit of time, and losing one planning period (we get two) to help work with these kids.
It's worth it.
My homework turn in percentage the past few years has been really high. For one, I assign it on Monday and it's due on Friday. I usually give the students a choice on which assignments they want to do (I'll list four, they do two). The homework itself is practice for what we've done in class, but if they have questions on it, I do have homework helpers that they can use during am homeroom, pm homeroom, or check out to take home - some of my special education students get the helpers stapled into their agendas or emailed home to their parents. It essentially gives the answers to the homework, so even if a kid is completely clueless, if he or she copies down the correct information, at least it was in front of them for that one time. (That idea isn't original - it came from an NMSA conference I went to a few years ago.) However, even with choices, even with four days to do the assignments, and even with the answers right there in front of them, they didn't bother to turn any work in - this is a huge change from previous years when I had nearly all my kids turning in work.
I wasn't alone. All the teachers in the seventh grade have the same problem, and even some of the eighth graders are exhibiting vast degrees of laziness. One of the eighth grade teams has implemented a homework clinic during lunch where the kids who owed work had to eat in a teacher's classroom and work on their homework at the same time. This seems to work pretty well as the kids started turning in work, rather than miss their social time, and at the same time their test scores and grades started to improve (especially in Math.)
Our Mr. Math was at another school last year that really targeted these kids who turn out to be, for the most part, our at-risk population. We took a little of what he did at his old school, a little what the 8th graders were doing, and came up with the Friday Homework Clinic.
By Monday afternoon, the teachers on my team have emailed me the names of all the kids with missing work for this grading period. I can cut and paste all this into an Excel spreadsheet (PowerSchool, our new grading program, makes this soooo easy), sort the kids by name, and have a print out of who owes what work.
On Tuesday morning I hand out to the kids a slip of paper with all their missing assignments listed. They have until Thursday afternoon to get this work made up and turned in, otherwise, they miss their first period elective class on Friday. Instead of doing art, or PE, or band, or computers, they are assigned to one of our rooms where they have to sit and work. We try to assign the kids to the teacher they need the most help with (for example if most of the work they owe is Math, Mr. Math gets them). This way they can get more individual attention. (I also make sure all my teammates have a copy of my Homework Helpers so that is available to help the kids as well).
The first week we did this, out of 120 kids, we had 88 who initially had to attend the clinic.
By Friday morning that number was down to about 68.
They were not happy. At all. However, they did turn in a lot of work. For some kids this was the first work we'd seen out of them all year. When I went home and graded papers this weekend, I couldn't believe how many students had managed to not only turn in their missing assignments, but managed to pull their grades up as well.
The Principal, by the way, absolutely loves that we're doing this. I got her blessing before we started. As she says, we have absolutely got to get these kids growing academically, and if it means having high expectations and accountability, so be it.
This week our number of kids missing assignments is 73. Of that number, about 20 of them are kids who owe one assignment and can, quite honestly, get that turned in before the Thursday deadline. That would give us about 53. That's still a high number, but better than the week before. It may take a few weeks for some of them to realize that we're serious.
At it costs us is a bit of time, and losing one planning period (we get two) to help work with these kids.
It's worth it.
Sunday, November 02, 2008
The Tale of C-Boy
We have just finished two weeks of benchmark testing. We had Math, Reading and Language Arts one week, and then finished up with Social Studies and Science this week. The results were beyond disappointing. I know we make these tests hard, on purpose, but we've never had a seventh grade test so low.
And I mean really, really low. We have our datachat this next week, so we'll see what kind of interesting ideas come out of it.
In any case, the kids hate benchmarks, don't see the point in them, and frankly could give a rip. We keep telling them that these scores become part of their record and that any teacher in the future could pull them up and see what they've done, but that doesn't make much of an impression. After all, for these kids, the future is lunchtime.
We had one fellow in my homeroom, who's really quite bright but working on being a completely clueless knucklehead because "It's cool!", who got a bit carried away with being lazy and instead of reading and taking his tests, decided to code all the answers with the letter C. He then proceeded to tell all his classmates who promptly dimed him out and told us. Of course, by then, he'd already taken three tests.
When Mrs. Social Studies saw that he had bubbled in all C's on his test, she went nuts. She yanked him out into the hall and gave him a piece of her mind. The Principal found out and gave him a piece of her mind as well. And, for good measure, Mrs. Squirrel, one of our AP's, did the same. And then it was decided that he'd end up taking his tests again. (We caught him at this by the time the Science test rolled around - Mrs. Squirrel came into my room and gave him a good long stare that dropped them temperature in the room about 30 degrees and scared not only C-Boy, but everyone else in the room as well.)
So, C-Boy, who thought he was being clever, ended up having to miss some of his elective classes and make up the tests again. He was not happy. The other kids all found out and got the message that it probably wouldn't be a good idea to goober up on a benchmark.
On Thursday, we're doing our review for our unit test, which is a PowerPoint with sample test questions, followed by the answers so the kids get immediate feedback and we can discuss the question. I always warn the little goobers that memorizing the letters and the order of the answers is pointless because I scramble them and they aren't in the same order as the test. This is met with a groan of dissapointment from those who were looking for an easy way out. However, the kids tend to like this review and it helps them see where they need to focus.
Anyway...we do a test question, and the multiple choice answer happens to be the one that goes with the letter "C".
Red-Headed Boy in the back raises his hand and when I call on him says, "Hey, I bet C-Boy got that one right!" and the class all cracks up, even C-Boy.
However.
Every single time we get an answer with the letter "C", the kids start making snarky comments about C-Boy. He's pretty amused with the attention the first few times, but as the class period winds down, and his classmates keep teasing him, he's starts to get a bit disgruntled. By the time the period was over, he was pretty fed up with the teasing. He didn't say anything smart back (which was actually one of the smartest things he's done in a while), but definitely wasn't laughing.
The funny thing is, we, as teachers, could go on and on with this kid about what a stupid stunt he pulled on his benchmarks, and it would go in one ear and out the other. However, once his peers start picking on him about it, it hits home.
Bet he doesn't do that again. But you can also bet that I'm checking his answer sheets carefully.
And I mean really, really low. We have our datachat this next week, so we'll see what kind of interesting ideas come out of it.
In any case, the kids hate benchmarks, don't see the point in them, and frankly could give a rip. We keep telling them that these scores become part of their record and that any teacher in the future could pull them up and see what they've done, but that doesn't make much of an impression. After all, for these kids, the future is lunchtime.
We had one fellow in my homeroom, who's really quite bright but working on being a completely clueless knucklehead because "It's cool!", who got a bit carried away with being lazy and instead of reading and taking his tests, decided to code all the answers with the letter C. He then proceeded to tell all his classmates who promptly dimed him out and told us. Of course, by then, he'd already taken three tests.
When Mrs. Social Studies saw that he had bubbled in all C's on his test, she went nuts. She yanked him out into the hall and gave him a piece of her mind. The Principal found out and gave him a piece of her mind as well. And, for good measure, Mrs. Squirrel, one of our AP's, did the same. And then it was decided that he'd end up taking his tests again. (We caught him at this by the time the Science test rolled around - Mrs. Squirrel came into my room and gave him a good long stare that dropped them temperature in the room about 30 degrees and scared not only C-Boy, but everyone else in the room as well.)
So, C-Boy, who thought he was being clever, ended up having to miss some of his elective classes and make up the tests again. He was not happy. The other kids all found out and got the message that it probably wouldn't be a good idea to goober up on a benchmark.
On Thursday, we're doing our review for our unit test, which is a PowerPoint with sample test questions, followed by the answers so the kids get immediate feedback and we can discuss the question. I always warn the little goobers that memorizing the letters and the order of the answers is pointless because I scramble them and they aren't in the same order as the test. This is met with a groan of dissapointment from those who were looking for an easy way out. However, the kids tend to like this review and it helps them see where they need to focus.
Anyway...we do a test question, and the multiple choice answer happens to be the one that goes with the letter "C".
Red-Headed Boy in the back raises his hand and when I call on him says, "Hey, I bet C-Boy got that one right!" and the class all cracks up, even C-Boy.
However.
Every single time we get an answer with the letter "C", the kids start making snarky comments about C-Boy. He's pretty amused with the attention the first few times, but as the class period winds down, and his classmates keep teasing him, he's starts to get a bit disgruntled. By the time the period was over, he was pretty fed up with the teasing. He didn't say anything smart back (which was actually one of the smartest things he's done in a while), but definitely wasn't laughing.
The funny thing is, we, as teachers, could go on and on with this kid about what a stupid stunt he pulled on his benchmarks, and it would go in one ear and out the other. However, once his peers start picking on him about it, it hits home.
Bet he doesn't do that again. But you can also bet that I'm checking his answer sheets carefully.
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