Random Thoughts

No students means no drama. I'm kind of enjoying that. For those of you who read this blog I'm sure you're bored to tears.

That being said...

Why is it that the week that Momma Bird visits we top out the thermometer and have some pretty miserable weather, but now that she's home we're actually below normal and I have the air conditioning off and the windows open?

Had to go to the dentist today to have an old filing replaced. The anticipation was worse than the actual procedure. I took along the iPod, listened to the B-52's and survived. Of course, things are a bit tender and I had a mild headache by the time it was over with, but it wasn't as bad as I expected. I do have a really great dentist though. Ice cream would make a great supper, don't you think?

My youngest cat has figured out how to pop off the top of the kitty drinking fountain so he can play with the filter. He is too smart for his own good. I'm sure he'll figure out how to change the channels on the television here shortly.

Naps are the best thing on earth.

I am not getting as much knitting done as I'd hoped. Or as much genealogy research done. Or as much reading done. I'm not sure where the time is going, but it's going fast.

My garden is a mess this year. First the rabbits. Then the ground squirrels. I have five tomato plants, and four look great and are doing well. The other one looks like it's on its last legs. I can't figure it out. Everything else - beans, melons, pepper, etc., are kind of limping along. Maybe our cold wet May has something to do with it. Whatever the reason it's annoying me beyond belief. I should have a beautiful, lush, vibrant garden with veggies and all that and I have plants that look like they just want to curl up and die.

The weeds, however, are kicking butt.

That's it for now.

Time for sweet tea ya'll.

I'm Just Wondering...

Momma Bird is home safely in San Diego after a nice, but quick, visit here to my neck of the woods. Of course she manages to come the week we have the "hottest temperatures of the year", according to all the beaming weather guys on the local news. Although she lives where it regularly hits the hundreds in the summer, she doesn't have the humidity we have. However, like me, she's an early riser, and fell quickly into the routine of getting up early to garden and walk, then spend most of the day knitting, reading, doing genealogy (we have recently discovered a Revolutionary War soldier and her friend is encouraging her to apply for the DAR), and then going outside in the evening. We had a wonderful time.

This week I'm getting ready for summer camp which begins after Independence Day. I'll be heading Up North for two weeks to teach at a day camp for gifted kids. I usually teach the 3rd and 4th graders because they make me appreciate my 7th graders that much more. It's a chance to visit old friends, make some money, and score some school supplies that I can use in my own classroom.

One thing Momma asked me about while we were running errands around town were the large tents that were all over the place. These tents appear two times a year (before Independence Day and New Years) and sell fireworks, which are legal at these two times of year in my community. Like her, when I first moved here I didn't know what they were for the longest time. They appear, empty, about a month before they are stocked with all sorts of things that you can buy and blow up. Then all of a sudden their signs go up, the doors open, and they're ready for business.

However.

There is one thing that has always bothered me about these fireworks tents, especially this time of year.

We have thunderstorms here. Lots of thunderstorms. And where you have thunderstorms, you have lightning.

(Can you see where this is going?)

With four tents on just about every single corner in town, how come we don't hear about them getting struck by lightning and setting all the fireworks off?

Makes me wonder...

Chillin', or at Least Attempting to...

Yeah, I'm alive. It's just that I've been, well, busy.

And right now, with the heat index at 101 freakin' degrees, I'm just trying to stay cool and not run up my electric bill at the same time. This involves lots of ceiling fans, not leaving the house, if possible, after ten a.m., and doing anything that needs to be done outside before nine a.m. And lots of sweet tea. Lots and lots of sweet tea.

Done some traveling...Ashville and Raleigh, North Carolina, Knoxville, Tennessee, Atlanta and Augusta, Georgia. Road tripping with hubby is one of my favorite things to do. We travel well together - we both like going to museums, and checking out local wineries, and just hanging together - so tagging along on some of his business/research trips is pretty fun.

When I've been home, I've done a lot of things I don't get around to during the school year - trying to clean out the garage (this will have to wait for completion when the weather is bearable), visits to the dentist and the skin cancer doctor (I get a check every year, just to be on the safe side, what with my family history and sun exposure history), file some of my civil war research, work on the family tree project for mom, and just stuff.

Then there's the yard work which, due to the heat, must be done before 8 am in the morning and even then I'm a sopping wet mess by the time I finish. It's not doing too well this year and that's aggravating me beyond belief. First the rabbits did a number on most of my plants and we put up a rabbit fence we seems to work, but then ground squirrels, or something, is still working at digging holes all over the place. Four out of the five tomatoes look fine, the fifth looks like it's on its deathbed with yellowed leaves. The bean plants are limping along, most of them looking like they've been burned up by too much fertilizer, but since I haven't used any this year outside of a tiny bit of compost, I have no idea why they're looking so bad.

The weeds, however, are kicking butt.

So, I'm knitting, reading, and getting things ready for next year. I've been reading our new science book, plus a Kagan book on cooperative learning. I do have an in service this week, so there's that to look forward to. The new standards will prove to make it an interesting year. Mrs. Eagle and I are going to try some new things this year in terms of group work and other activities, so we'll see how that goes.

For fun reading...catching up on magazines, reading some classics I've never read (finished Around the World in 80 Days and now I'm working on Black Beauty), reading some thrillers, plus some good history books.

And then there's catching up on movies and sports on television. I've been enjoying, tremendously, the College World Series. I don't have a favorite team, I just like watching these kids play ball - it's so much more entertaining than the pros, (with the possible exception of the Cubs). And since hockey is over for a while (thank goodness the Penquins won!), I'm pretty much left with baseball.

So that's it. It's not exciting, it's nothing to really write about, but hey, I'm alive.

Sweet tea anyone?

A Time For Courage

D-Day.

Sixty-five years ago.

I'm not going to listen to speeches by politicians. I'm not going to watch ceremonies. What I will do is read the words of the men who were there and try, try, try to fathom how they went through that. Because, quite honestly, they are why this matters.

If you know a veteran of WWII, and sadly they are passing on so very fast, listen to his or her stories.

And remember.

And thank them.

Because truly, they saved the world.

Summer Carnival Time!

Mister Teacher is taking us all out to the movies! Head on over for his summer blockbusters at the Education Carnival!

A Good Parent Lesson

Teachers and support staff had to report to school today for some reason only known by the individuals who create our yearly calendar. If that isn't bad enough, it was decided that we would also report tomorrow to make up the extra snow day that we used this year. The kids, however, are enjoying their summer break and were no where to be seen.

So, most of us spent the day packing up our rooms. We empty bookshelves, go through file cabinets, pack up odds and ends, and then label everything with our name and room number. The reasoning behind this is that our rooms are completely emptied during the summer while the custodial staff strips and waxes the floors, and touches up the paint. The key thing is to leave a map of how you want your room set up so that you don't have to struggle as much getting it together in late July when we show up to get the new year started.

I went to drop some items in some teacher mailboxes and cruised by guidance to see how the Guidance Goddess was doing. This is a crazy time of year for her, what with moving files on up to the high school, updating records, enrolling for summer school, and so on. I was kind of curious as to how many of my students had already enrolled for summer school (we had recommended about ten).

"So, how's summer school going?" I asked her.

"Really well," she said. "We have more registered today than we had all of last summer."

"That's pretty good. Mind if I see how many of mine have signed up?" I asked her.

"Of course not," she said as she handed me the list. "By the way, Gawky Girl was one of yours, right?"

Oh yeah, she was one of mine. She was one of the youngest kids on the team but was also one of the tallest. She was also smart as all get out, but did absolutely no work whatsoever, and consequently managed to fail seventh grade. This from a kid who should have been on the A B honor roll if she tried.

"Well, she's signed up," said Guidance Goddess. "You won't believe what her mom did, however."

"What did she do?" I asked. I had seen a few moms and their children marching grimfaced to the guidance office to register for summer school. You can bet that it wasn't a pleasant experience for either of them.

The Guidance Goddess continued. "I know the family and know that they are on fee waivers, so they wouldn't have to pay for summer school. So, I was reaching for the fee waiver list and mom told me to hold it right there. She wasn't going to utilize the fee waiver. She made Gawky Girl pay for it out of her birthday money."

"Seriously?" I asked. Accountability? Finally?

"Seriously," Guidance Goddess answered. "Gawky Girl was not happy, but mom insisted. She said maybe she'd learn to value her education if she actually had to pay for it."

Maybe the best birthday present this mom gave her daughter was the lesson that there are consequences to behavior. And sometimes those consequences hurt us in the wallet.

Way to go mom!

Good Bye to One Bunch and Best of Luck to Another

Today, being the last half day of year known as the Year We Had the Seventh Grade Class from Hades, wasn't half bad. Many kids didn't bother to show up (I had 13 absent, leaving only 12). Many were already suspended. And the ones that came, with a few exceptions, behaved.

The big fights that had been rumored didn't materialize, and we took our kids out for about an hour and they ran around and ate Popsicles and generally had a great time. It was awfully humid, so they were pretty wiped out, and consequently rather calm, when we got back. My class did a great job of cleaning up my room, and one kid even went so far as to completely clean out the refrigerator. Without me asking. Amazing.

So the year ended on a rather positive note. Even some of our little thugs seemed misty-eyed and promised they'd try to stay out of trouble over the summer and they'd be back to see us next year. And of course we had to wave the buses goodbye. I'm not sure where this tradition started, or if we're the only district that does it (I know I've never been anywhere else that does this and new teachers are always amazed by it) but it's one of the highlights of the year. The bus riders are dismissed and once they're out of the building, we walk our walkers and parent pick up kids outside and line up along the driveway and wave at the buses as they go by, with kids hanging out the windows waving back and the bus drivers honking on the horns as they go by. Everyone joins in, from secretaries to janitors, to the administrators. It's loud, it's fun, it's joyful!

And many of us wouldn't miss it for the world.

We had to stay until 2:30, but many of us went out for a lunch with our teams and chatted about the year, and the summer, and what we were planning on doing. My team is changing a bit next year with Ms. Language moving to Mrs. Bunny's team where she'll be teaching her true love, science. That's a good thing as she'll be working with Mrs. Eagle and I in science and she's a joy to work with. Miss Reading will be moving to Mrs. Eagle's team and Mrs. Eagle's reading teacher will move to mine. We're going to a block language arts/reading format next year, and I'll only have one of these teachers, instead of two. Our numbers on this side of town are going down a bit, so we'll be a smaller than normal 7th grade team. It should be interesting. I had a great team this year and we'll miss having Ms. Language and Miss Reading, but they'll still be in our building so that's good.

We actually have two more days of work, Tuesday which was scheduled, and Wednesday where we make up a snow day. So basically we have all the time in the world to back up and clean our rooms. We have to label and pack up everything as our rooms are completely emptied over the summer so the floors can be cleaned and waxed and some of the walls painted.

This evening Mrs. Eagle and I went to the high school graduation at the local University (which is where all our high schools have their graduations - it's large enough to accommodate everyone's families). Mrs. Social Studies had actually invited us as her daughter was graduating and she wanted us there and at the family party afterward. I wanted to go because this graduating class was my first group of students at The School.

Looking through the commencement program it was gratifying to see how many of my former students had made it through and were earning their diploma. Motormouth Boy was there just to prove that royal pains in the butt in seventh grade can grow up and become intelligent, well-mannered young men. Many of my former special education kids were there, including one I feared would drop out and get involved in the drug trade like his uncle did. He was beaming when he walked across the stage, and I beamed as well. Talky Girl was there, with honors, despite having a baby her sophomore year. Smiley Boy, a tall, gawky seventh grader with a smile as big as Texas who struggled with school but worked harder than almost any kid around (while both his parents worked at McDonalds, as neither graduated from high school) was an even taller smiling young man as he received his diploma.

And they had candles lit up at the front of the stage for Vincent and Philipp, who drowned three years ago this weekend and who I still miss.

Quite a few are going on to college. One has been scouted for the past two years by Major League Baseball scouts and is going to school on a baseball scholarship with hopes of making it into the majors one day. A few are going to trade schools. A number are going into the military, including one of my favorites from my first year, Jolly Rancher Boy (who would clean my room every day for a Jolly Rancher) who is going to become a medic.

I'm proud of them all. And wish them all the blessings and joys that life has to offer. They're good kids.

A Little Calm

Today was, remarkably, a very calm day.

This is remarkable because we only had today, plus tomorrow and a half day Friday until the end of school. The kids have pretty much figured out that we have finished grades so they really have no motivation to behave or do much of anything. We had our team academic awards party during first period (and fed them cupcakes and punch just to get all good and sugared up), then yearbook signing party during 3rd period, and even in these group situations they did pretty well.

And then it dawned on me. With a few exceptions, Sassy Girl being one, nearly every kid who has caused problems all year (and even a few that haven't) has either been suspended or sent to ISS for the remainder of the year. Even Tiny Girl ended up in ISS over a hair-pulling incident during Math class that apparently stemmed from criticism of jump roping skills. Seriously. Another girl is up in ISS for a fight during lunch with one of Mrs. Eagle's students. Three are up in ISS for cell phones. A few suspended for playing soccer with another student's purse and then refusing to give it back after they pretty much destroyed it and spread the contents all over the hallway.

We're finishing up our geology unit by watching the movie Journey to the Center of the Earth, and they're being quiet and actually watching the movie. It's almost weird.

That being said, tomorrow will probably be insane and the remaining kids will lose their minds. All the seventh grade teachers are hearing rumors of some fights being planned on Friday (and again, it seems to be our girls causing the problems as we're also hearing about a rather active girl gang in the local apartment complex where many of our lower income kids live). We're going to keep our ears to the ground and if the rumors keep swirling we may just keep the kids on our room that day. We usually like to take them out for some soccer, kickball, and generally enjoying the fact that it's 80 and not humid, but if it means breaking up fights left and right, I'm all for watching Finding Nemo for the 93rd time.

Waiting for Friday around 11:00 o'clock...and praying for the 8th grade teachers next year.

Bouncing Off the Walls

This past week, the week before the last week of school, the Team and I noticed an interesting trend.

Our kids with ADHD (and I swear, that's about half the kids that make up your classroom population these days) are off their meds.

Tiny Girl, who usually is fairly calm and focused, was all over the place last week. She couldn't stay in her seat, couldn't be quiet, couldn't stop talking, and was generally vibrating with energy. Mrs. Social Studies and I pulled her aside for a moment and asked her if she was, perhaps, not taking her medicine.

"Oh no, we ran out!" she said. "I haven't taken it since last week."

Indeed. The fact that she spent a small fortune on candy and slushies at Field Day probably didn't help either.

She's not alone. We counted at least half a dozen who we actually talked to and admitted that they hadn't taken their medicine. Then there's a handful we didn't ask, but strongly suspected. They are exhibiting more than your usual "end of school" energy levels. They're nearly manic.

We are suspecting that many of our parents will attempt to save some money this summer by not renewing their child's medications (they are, after all, fairly pricey from what I've been told). In addition, I've discovered many parents take these kids off their meds during the summer anyway as it's a good time to make adjustments, see how they react without it, and deal with some of the negative side affects. So, since we're nearing the end of the school year, why bother refilling the prescriptions once they run out?

I completely see the logic in this. However, I sincerely hope these parents have some good coping skills because a summer with some of these kids would drive me over the edge. Hopefully they'll spend a lot of time outside running around and burning off their excess energy.

As for me, at this point, I'm glad I have some relatively quiet cats to contend with. I'll need the peace and quiet this summer.

Finally a Field Day

It has rained, and rained, and rained, and we had, within the first six days of the month, managed to have the same amount of rain as we usually get in the entire month of May.

So our first Field Day was canceled due to rain.

And it kept raining.

And then they finally said it would be today, rain or shine, because we were running out of days.

If it rained, we'd be stuck in the gym all day with 350 wild seventh graders. This is enough to make me want to put a needle in my eye and start drinking heavily. I can handle 350 kids outside where the noise can be carried off on the wind, but inside a gym is hell on earth. For the entire day.

We prayed for two dry days - one to dry out the playing fields, and another for us to have Field Day.

God listened. We had field day today. It was cloudy, but dry.

Of course our team came in dead last. It was weird, but even Coach Math noticed the difference between our kids when the kids piled into the gym for the first event which was volleyball. Mrs. Eagle's team and Mrs. Bunny's team were sitting rather nicely on the bleachers, they nearly all had on their team colors (red and blue) and they listened better. Our kids on the other hand...were lounging all over the bleachers, most of them didn't wear the tie-dyed t-shirts we made for them, and they wouldn't follow directions.

"You can tell which team has the thugs, can't you?" said Coach Math. "It's apparent just looking at them."

It's even more apparent when you look to see who's in ISS and who's suspended. We spent most of the day filling gaps on our teams because - of course - so many of our kids, both boys and girls, weren't able to participate due to behavior.

Counting the days, man, just counting the days.

Seventy-one Seventh Graders and a Weekend in the Woods

The Great Camping Field Trip was this past weekend.

I haven't written earlier because, well, I was exhausted. Not to mention backed up on finalizing grades, grading homework assignments, and getting my ducks in a row for our retention and promotion meetings with The Principal this week.

Did I mention I was exhausted?

This was the third year that we took a number of our students to a local National Forest educational center and spent the weekend doing things like canoeing, hiking, going through low ropes challenge courses, studying pond creatures and basically having a grand ol' time with a bunch of seventh graders. It's something we started a few years ago because we realized that so many of our kids weren't experiencing nature and had never had a s'more, been on a lake, or even been out in the woods.

I might add that many of our fellow teachers look at us as if we're freaking insane to do this every year. However, we do have a number of eighth grade teachers who got drafted to help last year (because they happen to be male and we're always short on male chaperones to ride herd on our boys) and they insisted on coming back because it's so much fun. I guess it depends on your personality on whether or not you're willing to give up a weekend of your own time to do something like this for our kids.

I just wish that Mother Nature would cooperate a bit better. The first year was in April and the weather couldn't have been more perfect. The last two years we've gone in May and a tornado or a severe thunderstorm has hit our town on both Fridays of our trip. This year it was so bad that the kids back at school were hunkered down in the halls for a tornado warning that went on past dismissal and they ended up holding the kids for over an hour. Meanwhile, we're off on our field trip where it's raining like heck but, thankfully, no tornado warnings for us even though we were only 45 minutes away.

However. It rained like mad on Friday afternoon, so we had to eat our sack lunch from school in the dining hall about two hours before we were supposed to be there. It stopped, fortunately, and we were able to get started on our afternoon activities without too much problem. Yeah, it was wet, and muddy, and slippery, and a bit drizzly, but considering that it wasn't pouring, we were happy. We did have to cut the night hike a bit short due to rumbles of thunder and some lightning, and by the time the kids were in their dorms it was raining pretty hard. Around three in the morning the storm was raging and I opened the door to the counselor's room where I was residing with Miss Reading and it was something else out there over the lake - lightning flashing, loud rumbles of thunder, and rain, rain, rain. I went back to sleep and didn't wake up for a few hours.

And when I did, I discovered water on our floor.

This was not good. I shook Miss Reading awake and we took our flashlights and discovered that our room was flooded with about a quarter of inch of water. It went out of our room, into the lobby of the dorm, and then into the area where the girls were. Fortunately, it didn't get into their sleeping area, but stopped right before the bathroom. Great.

I took my shower, tossed on my clothes, doused myself in bug spray (gotta keep those ticks away) and then headed out in the rain up to the dining hall where I knew I'd find Mrs. Bunny and her coffee cup.

"Our room is flooded," I said as I sucked down my first of many cups of coffee.

"Oh good gracious," she said. "How bad?"

It wasn't bad at all, truth be told. I only lost about a dozen decks of cards, and aside from the inconvenience, it wasn't much to get excited about. We told the cooks who had showed up and were getting breakfast ready and they made calls and the maintenance guy showed up later that morning and shop-vac'ed the whole place, along with the unoccupied dorm next to us that also flooded. We found out later that in 20 years, they've never seen that happen. Considering that anywhere from three to five inches of rain fell that night, and that some roads washed out, we were lucky.

However, by the time breakfast was over, the skies had cleared, the sun was out and we had a gorgeous day. We kept them busy (and muddy) all day - we did challenge courses, canoeing, a pond study, orienteering. I might add, that one of the highlights of this trip is the food. They do it up right, and the amount of food they feed our kids is astounding. The kids are amazed - bacon and eggs and pancakes and biscuits and all sorts of good stuff for breakfast, hamburgers and fries and brownies for lunch, and chicken and green beans and salad, and cake for supper, and a snack of cookies for later in the evening. The food is filling, and tasty and for many of our kids (those who are on free and reduced lunch for example) it's more food than they've eaten in a long time. They loved it! They talk about it for days afterward, and I've even had kids from our first year come back and mention how cool that trip was and "wasn't the food awesome?"

Some observations about this year's group of campers...

They couldn't handle the challenge courses as well as the kids in previous years. The group of fifteen that I spent the weekend with was considered by many to be one of the better groups (we simply numbered the kids off and mixed them all up). Even so, they didn't get very far on the challenge courses because they argued, wouldn't take the time to make a plan, wouldn't listen to each other, had too many kids who wanted to be leader, and generally acted like the pains in the butt they've been in the classroom all year. They'd get halfway through a challenge and would find out that it was hard, and then want to start over. As the counselor said, unfortunately in life, unlike video games, there is no reset button. It drove them crazy that they had to solve their way out of their dilemma and that they couldn't just restart.

This group was not the most coordinated group around. Mrs. Eagle, who has years of Scouting under her belt, helped do the canoeing along with Mr. Algebra, and they said that, once again, my group was the best at canoeing. We didn't tip anyone, we didn't have any splashing fights, and they, somewhat, followed directions. That being said, we still had four kids that refused to go with a fellow student (lack of trust there) and insisted on going with one of the teachers, and about three canoes ended up nearly getting stuck in the trees near the bank (the lake was HIGH), and couldn't seem to get the idea of how to steer the things - perhaps because they didn't listen and pay attention when they were being taught how to do this. However, the other groups all had at least one (and one group had four) tips, so at least my kids stayed dry. I was pretty proud of them at this point.

This group of kids are the most physically unfit, whiny, lazy bunch of kids I've ever seen. They need to get off their butts and away from their cell phones and video games. Case in point...we had to hike a mile (down a paved road) to the pond to do the pond study, and then walk back. I'll be 47 next month, and I'm a tad overweight, and I have a bad knee. I kicked their butt when it came to walking or hiking anywhere. Granted, I go to the gym and walk a lot plus I lift weights (so the canoeing was no big deal) but jeepers, a mile walk down a road and you would have thought we'd made them hike up Mt. Everest. The only ones who didn't complain were kids that were already involved in scouting. However, the bulk of them were going on about tired they were and how sore their feet were. We heard this all weekend. I was tired (due to lack of sleep) but my feet, back, shoulders, and everything else was fine. I was also smart and brought lots and lots of socks to keep my feet dry.

I love orienteering with the right bunch of kids. This time I got the right bunch. I had four boys, one little tiny girl, and we had a blast. They listened, helped each other, and we did great. This was our last activity and by then they'd finally learned to work together and help each other out. The terrain was rugged, but I'd managed to get a group of non-whiners for this one and we were all over the place, up and down ridges, through brush, across creeks, you name it. They did a great job of stopping every so often to check their bearings, adjust, and move on. I was so proud of them.

Bonfires rock. S'mores are awesome. And Mrs. Chicken can scare the bejeebers out of them with ghost stories about a old farmhouse that stood near our school playing field. Of course, it helps when the hoot owls and coyotes start howling nearby.

The best part of the weekend, however, isn't necessarily the kids. It's a chance to spend some time with your fellow teachers and just have fun. Most of us were up before sunrise and were drinking coffee and watching the sun rise down on the boat dock. It was the only quiet, kid-free time we had. The kids, fortunately, were so beat that they'd sleep until we'd wake them up so we had a few hours of grown up time before we had to get them ready for breakfast. It was wonderful. Drinking coffee, yabbering, laughing, and generally having fun with people that you work with but don't ever get time to just hang out with during the school day. I love those cups of coffee and companionship down on that lake. It's the best part of the weekend for the teachers.

So, we didn't lose a kid. We had some scrapes, and lots of mud, but overall it was a success. The kids loved it, we loved it, and we'll probably do it again.

If for no other reason than to have a chance to drink coffee at sunrise by the lake.

And to give our kids a chance at what Mother Nature has to offer.

Give Them Enough Rope...

It's actually been a somewhat pleasant week this week. Despite the postponement of Field Day (to a date to be determined...soon...I hope). Despite having two subs on the team for most of the week. Despite the fact that we're almost at the last day of school.

Why?

Well, we've given these kids enough rope to hang themselves apparently.

The two subs we had on Monday had a rough day. A really rough day. It wasn't all that smooth for the rest of us. So, when The Enforcer started getting word that chaos was rearing its ugly head right across the hall (I love that his office is in the middle of our team area), he decreed that any kid removed from a class for bad behavior, for a sub or a regular teacher, was going to be sent to ISS for not one, but two days.

That took care of quite a few before lunch on Monday.

We're not exactly sure what brought that on (and we aren't complaining) but perhaps it had to do with the fact that he told one of our girls to get into her classroom instead of hanging out in the hallway and she, in his words "Got braindead and started mouthing off and cursing at me!" We aren't quite sure what got into her (definitely not typical behavior but she's running with a bad crowd and may have wanted to impress them), but she's out of our hair for a week.

There were twenty kids in ISS today. Two were sixth graders. Two were eighth graders. Sixteen were seventh graders. Eight of them were mine.

And then there's the case of Pathological Liar Boy who couldn't do the right thing if it was tied up in wrapping paper and a bow and left on his doorstep. Even his mother, who swore that he was an angel and that everyone - everyone! - was lying has finally figured out that he's not exactly Abe Lincoln when it comes to honesty. The other kids don't like him and don't trust him and wish he'd just shut the hell up (he would talk to a wall, and has, when placed facing one.)

Anyhow, my students sit at tables with about two to four kids per table. This can cause problems when it comes to taking tests because they can all see each other's work. To solve this, I give the kids file folders to put up and make privacy screens so they can work and hopefully keep their eyes on their own work. The problem is that over the course of the year this group has managed to totally destroy my folder collection by writing and drawing some of the most vulgar and obscene content you've ever seen, along with pictures of cars, cartoon characters, and the occasional dog or two. And of course, I can never catch who's doing it, so it keeps happening despite being told to Not Write On the Folders. However, when a kid is presented with a folder that has already been written on, the phrase Do Not Write on the Folders goes out the window.

These folders, obviously, would not do for the Very Big Deal Government Mandated Tests last month so I bought new folders and our Aide (bless her) laminated them (80 of them!) for me. The hope was with the nice plastic coating it would be a tad difficult to write on them. My homeroom was ecstatic over these folders as they were nice, new, and shiny and we went through four whole days of testing without a single mark on them.

So yesterday, when they had their tests, I put out the shiny new folders and all the classes ohhhed and ahhhed and I explained why there were new folders. (You should have seen the blushing when I commented on the vulgar content written on the folders in the past.) I explained how they all deserved to take tests in a calm environment without disturbing comments, graffiti, and things cluttering up their work area. Consequently, they were Not To Write or Draw on the Folders.

So what did Pathological Liar Boy do? Waited until I was out doing hall duty after his class, grabbed two folders, whipped out a Sharpie and scribbled all over them, then ran off to his next class, stopping by a few of his friends to brag and giggle about how he scribbled all over Mrs. Bluebird's new folders.

And his friends promptly dimed him out to me, wrote up witness statements, showed me the folders, and within ten minutes I was walking over to The Enforcer's office with the folders, the statements and the referral. Mrs. Social Studies watched my room while I explained the situation to the Enforcer. He was not happy.

Within 15 minutes, Pathological Liar Boy was in the Enforcer's office. Five minutes later the Guidance Goddess was typing up his suspension paperwork and he was out for three days, and will be (supposedly) returning to ISS when he gets back and will stay there until the last day of school. With 220 discipline points, it's about time. Nothing like being told specifically not to do something and then to go and do it.

I might add that The Enforcer brought back the scribbled on folders and they were on my desk this morning when my homeroom kids came in. They spotted those folders and just went nuts. They were incensed that someone would ruin their nice new folders. Funny what they take pride in, isn't it?

As for me, and the rest of the team, we're enjoying a few days of peace while we can.

Field Day?

According to the rain gauge in my back yard, we have had 4" of rain since Thursday. My yard looks like a jungle. Seriously. I have grass up to my knees.

(That being said, it's not like I have a decent lawn to start with - it looks like pasture. It's a mix of weeds, crabgrass, zoisya, bluegrass, fescue, clover and goodness knows what else. But some of it is growing up to my knees.)

Any bets on whether or not we'll have field day on Monday (when it's scheduled)?

Our makeup day is Wednesday.

Wanna guess what the forecast is for Wednesday?

Yup. More rain.

When Thoughts of Wine and Bailey's Get You Through the Day

The. Absolute. Freaking. Day. From. Hell.

Coming back from three days away from the classroom just is not a good thing. At all. Coming back on a day when chaos reins sucks even more. It's 5th grade orientation where they bus the 5th graders over and show them all the glory that is middle school and you hope like hell they aren't in the hallways when two hormonal bitchy 8th grade girls get into a girlfight and try to beat the snot out of each other. This means the band kids are out, the club kids are out, the good kids who are doing the tours for the little cherubs are out, and then they come strolling back at various times. Whatever. That I could deal with.

What I could not deal with is that Someone Messed Up My Computer And I Wasn't Able to Get My PowerPoint Jeopardy Game To Show On the Screen.

This is seriously bad.

First off, I noticed that everything on my desktop was smaller. Hell, I could barely read my email! Good gracious I'm in my late 40's with glasses and I need all the help I can get to see what the heck is going on and now I was practically putting my nose to the screen to see what was there. Not good. Then I put together my morning homeroom PowerPoint, and went to put it up on the screen, and noticed the document reader was dead. Not off, but dead. Holy Crap. I ran over to the tech Geek's office and grabbed him (who, of course is in charge of 5th grade orientation and had a zillion other things to do), and he managed to wiggle some wires, found a short and got the document reader working.

But the PowerPoint wasn't showing up. I was getting, at first, no signal, then a signal, but it was showing a different desktop than I had, and all sorts of weird stuff. Tech Geek comes back fiddles with it and then becomes obsessed. He can't figure it out and he thinks some kid or someone messed with my computer big time. By this time my homeroom kids are wandering in, I end up having to do paper attendance, and then we had a meeting about the camping trip, an IEP meeting, and finally I come back to see if it's fixed...and the Tech Geek has put in a work order for the Big Deal Tech Geeks to come fix it. Maybe the Aide who covered for my classes did something but the general consensus was if she did, she didn't do it on purpose because she's, well, just not that bright.

And I have 20 minutes before class starts to figure out what in the hell I'm going to do since my lessons just went out the window.

Finally, little Miss Reading, bless her heart, suggests that perhaps we can do a system restore back to Monday when I knew everything worked. Praise the Lord! It worked, and I was ready to go 1 minute before the kids came in.

And they were awful. Awful beyond belief. So awful that I almost wanted to leave and go back to The Rich School Across Town.

Third period wasn't too horribly bad. We got through two rounds of the game and they did pretty well. The Fourth Period Class From The Very Depths of Hell Itself was another story. Not only could they not decide what damn question they wanted to answer (I swear, they were arguing over whether or not they wanted Igneous Rocks for 15 or Metamorphic Rocks for 20!) but when it came time to answer, they couldn't get a single one of them right. I think after the entire game was done (and I let them have 90 seconds to decide what the answer was which was a minute more than any other class), we had three questions right out of 25.

Their test is Tuesday. The questions came from their homework packets.

Which this class, for the most part, refuses to do.

Two kids from Fifth Period got into a screaming fit along the lines of "He touched my stuff! No I didn't! Yes you did!" I separated them, blasted the class and said they had a choice, they could all get along and we'd do the game, or I'd just print out a copy of their test and give it to them right then and there. They decided they could behave and we did the game.

By the time seventh period rolled around, I was so ready to be away from kids it wasn't funny.

Interestingly, the classes all wanted to know what happened over at The Rich School Across Town.

And I told them.

In three days only one kid asked for a pencil. (I have probably 2-5 kids per class who never have something to write with; I can give a pencil out to a kid at the beginning of class and they'll lose it before the class is over.)

In three days no kid asked to go to the bathroom. (My kids can only go if they have a pass, which they all used up the first week of the semester, and now they whine and fuss that they have to go although they spent the entire time between classes goofing off in the hallway.)

In three days I didn't have to move a single kid to a different seat. (I must move kids daily as they can't get along with each other.)

I did a project that involved coloring some cell pictures on Wednesday, bringing the pictures back on Thursday and then assembling the project. Not one kid left his pictures at home, in his locker, on the floor, in his book, etc. They all had their work from the day before. (I have kids who constantly lose work. They are usually the same kids who won't put their names on their work so we can get it back to them when we find it on the floor in the hallway.)

Every kid had their agenda opened and was filling it out when I walked in the room. (My kids need a personal invitation each and every day to do this, and then they sigh and fuss and act like I'm asking the impossible.)

I gave these sixth graders (and there were a lot of sped kids on this team) the same assignment my seventh graders took two and a half days to do. These kids did the project, and did it well, in one and a half days.

I told my seventh graders that I was stunned - stunned - that these little sixth graders could, quite honestly, Kick Their Butts, when it came to doing school.

And why did these kids do so much better? They listened. They followed directions. And they Shut The Hell Up and didn't talk constantly.

My seventh graders were, for once, silent. It sucks when sixth graders are better than you are.

Of course, I had to have at least one who whined, "But they're always better than us, they have money."

"Yeah, they do," I replied, "But having money doesn't mean anything when it comes to listening, following directions, and doing your job. Poor people can listen just as well as rich people. You could all do just as well, and as better, if you so much as tried."

But they'd rather just talk than try.

Fourteen and a half days with this bunch.

Trading Places

So last week The Principal catches me in the hall and says, "Just the person I need to see."

Uh-oh...

Mrs. Squirrel is retiring, bless her heart, and after a pretty extensive search The Principal hired a replacement, although we all know that Mrs. Squirrel is irreplaceable. The new AP, Mrs. Sparrow is currently a sixth grade science teacher at another school in the district. I've actually run into her in the past during science in-service stuff, and it's nice to have a former science teacher added to the admin staff.

"Mrs. Sparrow needs to spend about a week shadowing Mrs. Squirrel, Mr. Enforcer, and myself to get a feel for the building," continued The Principal, "but her principal isn't wild about paying for a sub for a whole week, let alone having Mrs. Sparrow gone. Well, Dr. Big Wig, actually suggested that you go over there for three days and introduce her sixth graders to some seventh grade science."

Whoa. Dr. Big Wig? The Director of Middle Schools? The Principal's boss? Actually he's a real cool guy (and the first to tell you that as a child he was labeled "at risk' at one time), and he's out in the buildings quite a lot and knows most of the middle school teachers by name - which is saying something in a district this size.

"He said that since our seventh grade science scores are the highest in the district, he thought it would be good to have one of you visit Mrs. Sparrow's class and he suggested you."

(At last! A confirmation that we really were the highest in the district! Take that all you rich schools!!)

So, I agreed to spend three days at the Rich School Across Town, while one of our aides took over my class. I got with Mrs. Sparrow last week to get the lay of the land over at The Rich School Across Town, and to fill her in on what I was going to do. I actually asked my current seventh graders what they would have wanted to know about seventh grade science before they actually got to seventh grade and they all said the same thing: cells. So, with their input, I put together a three day introduction to cells.

Today was my first day there and I'll have to admit, it was a lot of fun. I have to keep reminding myself that these kids are sixth grade, not seventh, so they're even more immature than what I'm used to (but not by much). Mrs. Sparrow has her kids in desks in rows, which I haven't had for years in my room, so that's taken some getting used to as well. It's kind of nice to see different styles and procedures and ways of doing things.

The kids themselves were really nice kids, and seemed excited to have a visiting "real teacher" and not just another sub. They were really concerned about who was watching my class so I had to explain how we had aides in our building who helped teachers so one of our aides was taking care of my class. The idea of aides was new to them, but then again, this is a school that does not have 60% free and reduced lunch like my school does. They don't get funding for aides. The other thing that they were really intrigued with was how I do notes - I never have kids get out paper and take notes, we always do foldables, and they'd never seen these before.

One thing that struck me...compared to these kids, my students look like a bunch of ragamuffins. These kids obviously come from better backgrounds financially, and they show it by how they dress. It's not that they have designer clothes so much, but they are cleaner and just seem to take more care in their appearance. Their hair is combed and neat, they have clothes that are obviously clean, and they just carry themselves better. Many of my students wear the same thing day in and day out, are sloppy in their dress, and don't do as good a job with personal grooming.

Then again, I have kids who've lived in cars, and these kids all have a roof over their heads.

One of my girls that comes to mind is a quiet little thing that I have in my Fourth Period Class From The Very Depths of Hell Itself. Quiet Girl is one of about ten kids (his, hers, theirs) and there's not much money at home. I think she has maybe four outfits. Her hair is limp and stringy, her clothes aren't always clean, and things don't fit quite right. She's smart as a whip, but doesn't do any homework as she's responsible for babysitting all the younger kids when she gets home, because mom and dad are always out "shopping". We're not quite sure what they're shopping for since they don't have any money, so we're wondering if she means "shoplifting", or "shopping for drugs," as there's some anecdotal evidence that there's drug use in the home. It's sad. She's raising herself and her siblings, and is barely taken care of. Quiet Girl would stick out like a sore thumb here with all these kids at The Rich School Across Town.

That being said, it's nice to visit, but I think I'll stick with my ragamuffins. They need me more than these kids do.

Oh Yeah, By The Way...

Tuesday morning I'm walking through guidance after picking up my mail and I run into Mrs. Squirrel and wish her good morning.

"Oh good morning," she says brightly. "I'm so glad to see you. Has anyone mentioned that I'll need your help on Thursday and Friday?"

"Uh, no," I say wondering what kind of help she's talking about.

"Well, The Principal and The Enforcer have to be out at a conference and with Friday being 8th grade field day, I'm afraid that we need someone else acting as administrator just in case things get crazy and they lose their minds."

"Oh, sure," I say because, well, what else do you say to that?

"Oh that's fantastic!" she says. "We'll get your classes covered and you can help me out."

On Wednesday, The Enforcer went through the stack of referrals sitting on his desk to fill me in on what their status was, gave me his super secret computer passwords, and left his cell number just in case. This morning, after going over my lessons with the aide who was going to cover my classes, I moved into The Enforcer's office for the day and started pounding out referrals.

Oh. Good. Gracious.

Due to The Very Big Deal Government Mandated Tests, referrals had not been worked for a week. We close ISS during that week as the ISS teacher spends her time administering make-up tests. We also don't suspend kids because it's too important to have them here taking their tests. The result was a huge pile of referrals.

Which I got through.

Then went to guidance and discovered a stack twice as high and more rolling in.

Mrs. Squirrel spent her morning in the office with a hysterical parent (girl drama in the form of two best friends who got into a cat fight yesterday), so I didn't even see her for a few hours.

I spent my time calling kids, counseling kids, handing out discipline, filling out paperwork, calling parents, and although my "done" pile was growing, my "to do" didn't seem to get smaller.

What was strange is I was starting to see kids who had brand new, never been used, discipline files. Kids who had made it nearly all the way through school all year but, for whatever reason, were starting to lose it. I had a friend once tell me that this time of year in middle school was like a long road trip with a bunch of kids in a station wagon. They all like each other for the most part, but after a while, they're just sick and tired of each other and even the good kids do things they shouldn't. Especially on the bus. Good gracious, I had more bus incident reports than anyone should ever see floating across a desk!

It wasn't all bad, however. I got to get after two sixth graders who were caught kissing in the hallway. The boy informed me, before he even sat down, that "I'm through with girls for the rest of the year!" I suggested he make that until he was 30 and he agreed.

We'll see how long that vow lasts!

Party Time!

Sunshine and mild temps.

700 hot dogs and buns.

36 pizzas (cut into smallish squares)

1600 sodas.

400 bottles of water.

Dozens and dozens dozens of bags of candy.

A popcorn machine.

A cotton candy machine.

Nail painting, hair spraying, and temporary tattooing.

A dance.

Three inflatables in the parking lot.

A movie in the theater.

Door prizes ranging from MP3 players, iTunes gift cards, bathroom passes (like gold for a middle schooler), homework passes, McDonald's gift cards and more.

1000 middle school students who were on time every day and didn't miss a single one of The Very Big Deal Government Mandated Tests, and who earned "bucks" for exhibiting good test taking skills and were given the chance to spend them.

Three hours of the most amazing party The School has even thrown.

It rocked.

The best comment of the day came from the Guidance Goddess and Guidance Diva who were, for probably the first time all year, alone in the glass fronted office without a single kid waiting in a chair to see someone. "We sort of feel like the shop keepers in a town where a riot is going on and we've shuttered the windows and are peeking out now and then to watch the riot go by."

That's exactly what it seemed like. Inside guidance, calm, quiet, and peaceful. (Rare indeed). Outside? Running, yelling, screaming kids.

We fed them junk food, let them yell, run, scream, and hyped them up on sugar.

And then put them on buses and sent them home.

BAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!

I'm having a beer and watching the Stanley Cup Playoffs.

Twenty two and a half days...

Sometimes I Even Amaze Myself

Finally. Freaking. Done. With. Testing.

It has been a long, long, long week.

The kids did great during the actual testing part of the day, probably because they wanted to earn their pay, and because they knew I'd probably go psycho-postal if they so much as made a peep. I think the thought of me being psycho-postal is enough to scare even the most hardened seventh grader.

The challenge was keeping these turkeys quiet during the time between when all the testing material was collected and when I was allowed to dismiss them to their first period class. Not everyone was testing on the same schedule. Some grade levels were doing different subjects, with different times, and then there was special ed extended time, read aloud, and later in the day, the make-up testing. And then there's always the rooms around us who may have started a few minutes after us, or before us, so perhaps weren't done. After being so wonderfully quiet for the test, they wanted to really let off some steam when they were done. On Wednesday they got really loud and I was about ready to hit the psycho postal stage, and the look in my eye scared them and they quieted down. I knew, however, that it was only a momentary fear.

On Thursday I had, amazingly, a stroke of genius. I have no idea where it came from but it came, thank goodness.

I grabbed my packet of white paper for the printer. "Okay, everyone, here's the deal. I'm going to let you all talk all you want, but there's a catch. You have to write it down."

"You mean we can write notes?" one of the kids asked, incredulously.

"Exactly," I said as I put white paper out on each table. "You're going to write notes. You can write notes, play hangman, play tic tac toe, whatever, as long as you do not speak a word or make a sound."

A murmur went through the class. This is so cool! She's going to let us write notes!

On particularly paranoid hand went up. "Are you going to read them?"

"No, as you leave the room you're going to put them in the recycle bin," I answered. Frankly at this point, I didn't care what on earth they'd write as long as they'd be quiet.

"What if we want to write a note to a person at another table?" another asked.

"Then you raise the note in the air, and wait for me to come get it and I'll play mailman and deliver it." Why not? At this point I was simply waiting for the clock to tick away as well so I could go deliver my testing materials to the check in point.

They loved this idea. Heads went down, pencils scratched, notes went into the air, and I delivered mail all around the room. They played hangman, tic tac toe, and drew pictures of their favorite Japanese cartoon characters. The key thing is they were quiet.

Score one for me.

Gimme More (fake) Money!

The Principal, and the team leaders, came up with an idea to hopefully motivate our kids to try to do their on The Very Big Deal Government Mandated Tests. Sad to say, but most of our students could give a rip about grades, testing, their future, or anything remotely important, so we have to come up with ideas to motivate them because apparently hard work, doing well, and all that cool intrinsic stuff doesn't cut it with these knuckleheads.

We were moaning about it at a team leader meeting and I made the comment that these kids don't get the idea of getting paid to do a job. They're so used to the entitlements - the free and reduced lunch, the free school supplies, getting a jacket from the guidance closet if they don't have one, and so forth and so on that they don't get the idea of work. My corporate background reared its ugly head and I said that our team was thinking of actually paying kids for their work next year - we were sick and tired of getting after the kids who do nothing (which is a huge waste of energy as they don't care and it makes us cranky), and were more inclined to reward them with Bluebird Bucks or something equally stupid that could be redeemed for things like pencils, erasers, paper, and once a month, a bunch of goodies like pizza, hot dogs, cookies, and that silly trinket sort of stuff that these kids love.

And so we thought, hey, let's have them earn money for doing good test taking strategies and have an afternoon party where they could spend it and run off some steam.

The kids can earn up to four bucks each day of testing - for being on time, for being prepared, for using good testing skills (highlighting, underlining, crossing out bad answers, etc.) and for taking their time and rechecking their work. If they are at school all four days and take all four tests on time (no being tardy to school this week!), they get a bracelet that gets them into the party and they'll have $16 worth of bucks to spend. The party does have free things - a movie, a dance, and inflatables, plus they can spend the money on food, video games, and drop them in the box for drawings for things like gift cards and homework passes. Each day at the end of that day's test we hand out their bucks, they write their names on them, put them in their zip lock "party pack", and then we lock them up (they love watching you unlock and lock these as if they were real money.)

It has actually worked.

I have never, in six years of giving The Very Big Deal Government Mandated Tests, had kids take their time like this group is doing. And keep in mind, this is a group that during the year will blast through a 30 question test in ten minutes and then wonder why they failed. They are highlighting, they are crossing out things, and amazingly, they are checking their work. I've asked each day how many of them have found a mistake and at least half the class raises their hands. They couldn't wait to tell us about how they double checked everything and found - gasp! - mistakes. It's absolutely amazing to watch this.

Good gracious, we may be on to something.

The Very Big Deal Government Mandated Tests Are Here!

Tomorrow starts Testing Week...the week where we basically do nothing outside of administering The Very Big Deal Government Mandated Tests which are Really, Really Important. You know, the tests where the teachers are 100% accountable for how our students learn and the parents and the kids themselves are let off the hook for any accountability whatsoever.

If I sound bitter it's because I am. After spending a year with some of the kids I've had this year and their mostly absent parents (you know, the ones who refuse to pick up the phone, come to a meeting, or do anything remotely related to parenting), I'm really not wild about being The Only One Who is Held Accountable.

Which brings me to my three darlings in alternative school. Just as a reminder, that includes Pinball Boy (whom I adore although he can turn a class upside down), Spicoli Boy (who was, at one time in his school career, advanced and an A student but has since discovered illegal substances), and Duh Boy who really can be quite bright but appears to have also discovered illegal substances (hence the visit to alternative school) and who's parents rewarded him with a new dirt bike because, as his mother told me, "he's a good kid at heart and just made one bad decision."

I don't know about you, but if I'd done something as stupid as try to buy drugs from a kid at breakfast, in the school cafeteria (caught on lovely full color digital tape), and get myself sent to alternative school my parents wouldn't have bought me a dirt bike. In fact, I doubt they'd be buying me anything outside of paying for military boarding school or grounding me until I was 45.

Duh-Boy arrived back in school last Thursday, and this morning Pinball Boy and Spicoli Boy showed up. Spicoli Boy, I might add, has not changed one bit and has won the distinction of being the first kid I've had in alternative school in six years who didn't see a huge jump in grades. Usually they go there and you'll find a kid with a 50% grade jump to 90% or higher. Spicoli Boy beat the trend and earned a 61%. Pretty sad considering that 70% is required to pass.

Pinball Boy was, well, Pinball Boy. He was ecstatic to be back and honestly, it was nice seeing him again. However, yet again, he managed to turn the class into chaos because he is - surprise! - off his meds. Sigh. Screaming, laughing, running around the room, off his meds.

I had had a feeling that I'd see him before The Very Big Deal Government Mandated Tests so I'd touched base with Mr. Enforcer and expressed my concerns. Unmedicated, Pinball Boy won't do well on the test. Even worse, unmedicated, and in my room with 24 other kids, they won't either. He can be that out of control. Mr. Enforcer, who's dealt with this kid for two years, and nearly had mom on speed-dial, agreed. He came to my room during planning and said he'd called mom and she promised she was going to have him medicated by tomorrow, but considering the number of times I've heard that, and how often it hasn't happened, we needed a Plan B. So, we have one. We'll see how he is during homeroom, and if it's apparent that he's out of control, he's going to go cool his jets in guidance and make up the test in the afternoon during the make-up sessions (which may have a handful of kids and be in a small group setting).

Hopefully it won't come to that, but it's nice to know we have some options.

Ever Have One of Those Weeks?

Coming back from Spring Break seemed tougher than usual this year.

Perhaps it's because we have The Class From Hell, and needed more than a week to recover from the exhaustion most of us have been wading through the past month. The fact that the weather has been hot, cold, hot, cold, and just can't make up its mind hasn't helped any. And knowing that the Very Big Deal Government Mandated Test is right around the corner hasn't helped either.

Monday morning it seemed like the whole team had something wrong. Mrs. Social Studies and I both had headaches and neither of us could get in the swing of things. Miss Reading was losing her voice, Mr. Math had no sleep due to a late flight and a 2 year old, and Ms. Language was turning green at various times. I don't think any of us really felt well until Thursday rolled around.

So of course this would be the week that I had something scheduled for nearly every single evening. Monday an event at the local University that hubby and I attended which was very nice and over in time to catch 24. Tuesday my college girlfriend came in from California (she's doing a road trip through the South in conjunction with a convention in Atlanta) so we did BBQ and gossiped way too late in the evening. Wednesday is Knit Night with my local knitting group. Thursday, hubby and I went and saw the documentary Brothers At War (highly recommend it). And today I'm off for Good Friday but I've spent most of the day in the basement as we're having severe weather with sirens going off and all sorts of goofy things.

So I may was well grade papers while the storms rage.

However, a few things to note.

Remember Bully Boy? The kid we suffered through for five months, then he moved, then he was back (and put on another team praise Mr. Enforcer)? Apparently his mother up and moved yet again during break and he is now supposedly somewhere in North Carolina. He's another one of those kids who never stays long enough anywhere to get any help whatsoever.

And then there's Drool Boy. Drool Boy was moved to our team because his mother thought it would be a good idea if he was on the same team our basketball coach taught on since Drool Boy wanted to play basketball. Problem is, Drool Boy may have, at best, a 50% average and isn't going anywhere near sports until he learns to wake up in class, do work, and actually care about something other than his gang-banging friends. Of course Mom is now unable to meet with us, answer the phone, or generally communicate with us about the fact that her offspring is running with a bad crowd and failing yet again. The kid is capable but, like Spicoli Boy and Stoner Boy, I suspect he's smoking something funny every morning. Hence the name Drool Boy which comes from Ms. Language who swears that he's going to drool on his desk one day since his mouth is dropping open so wide.

So the other day Drool Boy is in class and I'm reviewing elements, compounds and mixtures and I notice that Drool Boy is there with his hand in the air after I asked the class a question. A miracle! He's participating! I call on him and he blinks. Now this kid has some pretty slow reaction time, so after a minute I call on him again because his hand is still in the air. He blinks some more.

"Hum, Drool Boy, your hand is in the air," I say. "I'm guessing you want to answer the question."

Drool Boy blinks, slowly swivels his head to look up at his hand that's waving above his head, seems startled to see that, yes, that is his hand there, then slowly lowers it.

"I didn't know it was there," he mumbles.

Ah. Guess he didn't want to answer the question.

You can't make this stuff up. You honestly can't.

Who's There???

This is just one of those things that I have to share...

My cousin lives in Colorado and has the incredible talent (which I do not have) of being a wonderful photographer. She never goes anywhere without her camera, and considering that she likes to get out and hike, and travel off the beaten path, she gets some fantastic pictures. I've told her again and again that she should make some of her pictures into notecards and calendars but she's much to modest.

Anyhow, she sent me the above picture today which she took out at the family farm. This is the same farm that I spent all my summers at and it holds a very fond place in my heart. Sadly, it will most likely be leaving the family soon (after nearly 60 years) because there's no one to take over the operation. Both of my cousins have careers in Denver, and farming isn't an occupation either of them aspired to. Goodness knows, Mr. Bluebird wouldn't know what to do if we ended up with the place. (I'd fulfill my fantasy of running an alpaca farm and knitting all day, but that's all it is, a fantasy).

So here's a picture of an owl out at the family place. I think it's awesome!

April Fool's

For the two or three of you who checked here yesterday you may have noticed something a tad weird...instead of a post by me, you had a surprise guest poster, Mr. Teacher! My post for yesterday was actually found on Ms. Teacher's site.

The whole surprise was the brainchild of Mr. Teacher, so head on over to his site and see the list of participants. And while you're there, pick up a copy of his book - it's a riot!

It's All in the Decimals

We’ve been studying Measurement of all sorts for the past several weeks, and this week continues the trend. The week before Spring Break, we studied and practiced using a ruler to measure inches and centimeters. We also practiced estimation with other units like millimeters, kilometers, yards, and miles.

Sample question: Which is a better estimate for the width of a stamp? 1 inch, 1 foot, or 1 mile?

Apparently, we have some kids with pretty darn large mailboxes…

Estimating measurement can be a hard concept for these kids to grasp though, as was clearly evidenced in a memorable situation from my first year of teaching (chronicled in my ground breaking novel, of course! ;) ). A little girl asked me, “Mister Teacher, how long are you?”

Since the girl was ESL (English as a Second Language), I assumed that she had misspoken and was merely asking how tall I was. However, when I tried to correct her, she insisted, “No, how LONG are you? How BIG?”

Still giving her the benefit of the doubt, I started to answer, “Six foot four,” but she beat me to the punch with a guess. “Seven inches?” she ventured.

I may never know for sure, but I can only hope that her guess reflected her poor estimation skills of my height and not a more accurate estimate of some other measurement…

THIS week, we are moving on to a few other areas of measurement – capacity, weight, and temperature. Hopefully, the temperature won’t be too bad, because we’ve covered number lines, and a thermometer is really just a number line turned on its side. Guess and check is the mantra there. Sure, some kids only do the FIRST part of that, but we have to keep trying.

Capacity and weight are another matter. Most of these kids have never even heard the word “Pint” before (and thus pronounce it with a short i instead of its long i), and don’t know a Liter from a Meter.

This is not the first year that we have taught capacity in 3rd grade, but it IS the first year that it will be tested on the TAKS. A couple of years ago, I tried Star Wars references to help them remember things – “Use the quarts, Luke!” and “May the fourths be with you!” – but that was it.

Last year, I had the kids look for examples of containers and their capacities at home. A big bottle of Coke holds 3 Liters, a bottle of Hooters Hot Sauce holds 5 fluid ounces, and a thing of Maalox holds 355 mL. Then there were the examples of missing decimal points – 612 gallons of barbecue sauce, 277 gallons of mustard, 118 liters of Mr. Clean. Either they forgot the decimals, or someone owns stock in the wholesale club.
Later this week, we’ll be discussing weight and mass. I’ll be sure to write more about my experiences with tons of feathers and grams of elephants…

Spring Break

I don't know when I've looked forward to spring break with such anticipation.

I'm not doing anything exciting, really. Hubby and I went to a conference in Nashville on Saturday, then went to Louisville on Sunday and pretty much the rest of the week I'll be home doing yard work, knitting, reading, cleaning house, maybe some painting, and possibly cleaning out the garage (that depends on the weather). We may catch a movie or two, or just sit and get caught up on the DVD's. I'm also grading homework packets, but that's just what teachers do, I suppose.

But I'm so glad it's here.

Maybe it has something to do with the fact that the kids, who, as you well know, haven't been the best crop of seventh graders to come down the line are insane.

Maybe it has to do with the fact that the kids all lost their minds - even the normally good classes were horrid - after lunch on Friday. Since we eat lunch relatively early, it made for a rough day. A really rough day. Even Coach Math was at his wit's end.

Maybe it had to do with the fact that we had a fight in the hall fifteen minutes before the end of the day when kids were moving to their afternoon homerooms, and it involved a split lip, blood, and two morons who quite honestly need to learn to shut the hell up and stop calling people names, especially each other.

Maybe we all just need a break from each other.

Old Habits are Hard to Break

Yesterday I took a quick glance at my email and saw one from the Guidance Goddess with the subject line of "Bully Boy".

Uh-oh.

I opened it up. All it said was "He's back!"

Oh crap.

I quickly forwarded it to The Team and they pretty much had the same response. Bully Boy was, to be honest, responsible for about 25% of the discipline referrals on our team, and with him gone, things were a lot calmer. Amazing how one kid can really stir the pot.

But he was back. And usually when a kid returns, he's put back on the same team with the same schedule. Figures. Just when my Fifth Period was actually getting somewhat sane and they were able to sit through an entire class period without a ruckus.

So, during lunch, Mrs. Social Studies, Ms. Language and I went to find out what was going on and to beg, if need be, that he be put on another team. He was back, with mom, and they were both living with grandma. Apparently they had been tossed out of their apartment in the nearby city (I'm not sure where the information came from but the words "meth use" or "meth manufacture" were mentioned and neither would surprise me considering his parents' history). And, surprisingly, Mr. Enforcer actually did put him on another team. His idea was that Bully Boy had pretty much tormented every kid in our area of the school and putting him on a team that was in a more enclosed area, like Mr. Social Studies and Mrs. Bunny's team, would be ideal. It could be watched more closely.

We groveled at Mr. Enforcer's feet and praised him to the heavens for this wise act.

We then informed his new team not to worry, it would only be a matter of time before he'd be in ISS or suspended. We did warn them to keep their eyes on him at all times (remember, he's a thrower) and to make sure he is nowhere near smaller kids or sped kids. We also warned them that lunch could be an issue as he likes to mess with kids then, as well, especially with slaps to the back of the head. Obviously, this team was less than thrilled. However, considering that our team is leading the entire school with discipline referrals and seats in alternative school, it's time to spread the wealth around.

So today, twenty-four hours later, we are walking our kids back from lunch and as we go by Mr. Enforcer's office (which is right smack in the middle of our team area), we see, of all people, Bully Boy sitting in his office.

Amazing! It only took a day and a half before he'd landed in trouble.

He apparently decided to pick on one of their smaller, and I mean small kids, a little thing who may weigh sixty pounds if he's lucky. It happened at lunch and the end result is he got mad at the Little Tyke, and smashed his hand on the table. Mr. Duck and I saw the videotape (amazing how Bully Boy always gets into trouble right in front of a camera) and it's the same mean kid I knew from before. He even has the same mannerisms of looking all around him for an authority figure to make sure they aren't watching before he launches his attacks. Apparently he keeps forgetting about the cameras that keep filming his misdeeds.

Of course Mr. Enforcer couldn't get a hold of a parent or adult at any of the phone numbers listed on the emergency card to inform them that he'd be in ISS for five days.

Some things never change.

Target Acquisition Problem

Yet another one for the file entitled "You Can't Make This Stuff Up."

So this afternoon I'm down at the local elementary with Mrs. Duck, Mrs. Eagle, and Mrs. Angora (who actually raises angora goats) among a few others as we've been asked to help judge the elementary science fair. That in itself was quite fun. We didn't see a lot of silly projects along the lines of "how many marbles will each brand of paper towel hold?", but instead saw some really creative projects with good science behind them. It's obvious that the elementary teachers were setting the bar a bit higher and that was good to see. We judged the fourth grade kids and our winner did a project on decomposition (no, not bodies, although I see a future at the UT Knoxville Body Farm for this kid), plus another great one on what type of clothing motorcycle riders should wear (he used fabric, chicken legs, and parents driving a truck to help test - very clever).

In any case, we're chatting a bit afterward and Mrs. Angora starts telling us a story about giving the social studies benchmark to her homeroom kids yesterday. Apparently she has a Stoner Kid in her class (it seems like we all do this year) who's a sweet kid, but, well, stoned nearly all the time. In any case, as she walked through the room, all the kids had their heads down and were working, including Stoner Kid who was busy bubbling in his sheet and working diligently on his test. Warm fuzzies all around.

After the test, she's going through the answer sheets and notices that, weirdly, there are no bubbles bubbled in on Stoner Kid's answer sheet. What the hell?? She saw him working. She knew he was bubbling in bubbles on something. How come his sheet is blank?

So she starts to investigate and walks over to Stoner Kid's desk.

And there on that desk are 30 little circles all bubbled in as nice as could be!

Stoner Kid apparently had a bit of trouble figuring out where, exactly the answer sheet ended and his desk began.

Wanna guess who had to take the test again today???

And you know We Aren't Leaving This Child Behind, even though he's hitting the weed every morning before he stumbles through our door.

Carnival Time!

It's the spring break edition hosted by An Aspiring Educator! Hurry over and check it out.

Southern Spring

This past Friday we had a snow day due to the two inches of white stuff that fell the night before.

Today it's 78 and gorgeous.

Trees are budding out, the forsythia are doing their thing and it's spring here in the South.

However, I'm not naive. Mother Nature isn't finished with winter yet. I still remember the spring break a few years ago when it went from 85 to 18 in one day.

I won't believe it's truly spring until about, oh, the 20th of April.

But I'm going to enjoy the day or two we get here and there.

A Rant - Casting Off Accessories, Teacher Accountability and the Reality of Our World

A few years ago, I did a post on how I think most parents consider their children to be accessories. Unfortunately, I still think that way. However, now these parents are apparently casting off their accessories because they're too much work.

Case in point. I had a student last year who had a lot of severe mental problems, bi-polar being the least of them. Biological dad was in jail somewhere in another state, he lived with mom and sister. He spent time during his sixth grade year in a mental institution, and did a return visit during the year I had him. He was spending most of his eighth grade year in our Behavior Adjustment unit but I noticed recently that I hadn't seen him around which was unusual. I mentioned this to the BA teacher the other day and she informed me that his mother had washed her hands of him and turned him over to the state and he was now in foster care and attending another school. The BA teacher was in court (called as a witness) when this happened and basically said that his mother told the court that she didn't want anything to do with him any more. I'm sure hearing that must have made this kid's day.

Another teacher, Mrs. Strawberry, was summoned to court last week to appear as a witness in a custody case involving a student. She mentioned that while she sat in the court waiting for her case to come up not one, not two, but three parents were there turning their kids over to the state! And that's just one day in one court in one city.

And of course last week we had the President trot out his first education policy speech laced with buzzwords like accountability. Of course, he means, like every other politician out there, teacher accountability.

What I want to know is when in the bloody hell are parents going to start to be held accountable?

I get a number of education-related email newsletters every day and one this week had an interesting blurb about a study done by Henry C. Berliner and published jointly by the Education and Public Interest Center at the University of Colorado at Boulder and Arizona State University's Education Policy Research Unit that described seven out-of-school factors that play a role in a child's educational success. (For those of us in the classroom this is a big "duh" moment as we already know this - apparently most policy makers either don't or they don't care.) The factors include prenatal care, health care, food insecurity, environmental pollutants, family stress, neighborhood characteristics and extended learning systems.

I firmly believe that before any legislator, and that includes the President, makes any sort of law or policy in education, they need to walk in our shoes. This does not mean going to a high achieving elementary school with freshly scrubbed, well dressed, well fed cherubs who sit at your feet while you read a picture book to them and you get your photo op for the networks. How about working as a substitute teacher for a few weeks? Spend some time in the behavior adjustment unit with the kids with mental issues. How about some time working as the in school suspension teacher? Try to set up a parent meeting with a parent that not only didn't provide us with a working phone number, but all the other emergency contact numbers are bad as well. And then when you get that meeting set up (should that miracle occur) how about standing in the office for fifteen minutes waiting for the parent to not show up? How about enjoying that parent phone call where they tell you that "what happens in school is not my problem, you deal with it!". Sit in on an s-team meeting, a 504 meeting and an IEP meeting. Get all your paperwork done, your lessons planned, and then teach, teach, teach kids who aren't fed, washed, or cared for.

It's a tough thing to Not Leave A Child Behind when parents, such as they are, don't parent and are doing their best to drag their children down.

P.S. I haven't read the report cited above. I'd like to, but as of yet I haven't found it, just articles about it (and I'm not paying for any article, thankyewverymuch.) If anyone finds it, let us know.

Ah the Drama!

I. Am. So. Sick. Of. The. Girl. Drama.

To the point where if one more whiny seventh grade girl comes up to me and says she needs to have a schedule change because so and so is talking mean about her, I'm going to completely lose it and it won't be pretty. I am not alone. The whole team is fed up with the drama and the whining and the fussing and the "she said, she said, she said," crap. Even Coach Math has had enough. We're about ready to pull a team Come to Jesus meeting and basically slap them upside with reality.

As someone who came to education after 15 years in the corporate world - 15 years spent working, at times, with complete idiots that I didn't particularly like or enjoy working with but I sucked it up because it was my JOB - it drives me nuts when a kid comes up and asks for a seat change or a schedule change because "I don't get along with so and so."

Suck it up and deal with it kiddo. You're going to go through life having to deal with people you don't like so get used to it now.

(Disclaimer: When it's a real case of bullying, we take care of it and take care of it fast. What we have here is just a simple case of a bunch of kids sniping and whining and being snotty to each other. I will not write a kid up for bullying who simply tells another girl that she doesn't like her outfit.)

They hate my answer by the way. The expect their teachers to simply rearrange the seating chart to accommodate their wishes. It kills them when they realize that my world doesn't revolve around them.

So, this past week, we've had the Girl Drama thing going on, which includes a formerly sweet girl who's now become the Mean Girl, who talked trash about Hyperventilating Girl who, apparently broke up with her boyfriend (good riddance I say) and when Mean Girl started being a bitch to her at lunch, hyperventilated and almost fainted at lunch. So of course, now Hyperventilating Girl doesn't want to come to fifth period even though Mean Girl is All The Way Across The Freaking Classroom from her. (I got an email from Guidance Mom asking to move Mean Girl away from Hyperventilating Girl. I responded that if I moved them any further away, one of them would be in her office and the other outside. Apparently the two girls made it sound like they were lab partners - NOT!)

And then Quiet Girl's Mother came down and requested a class change because - Guess Who?!?!? - was being mean to her and she didn't want to come to school because she was sick of dealing with it all. The fact that we've never even seen these two talk, they don't sit near each other, and Quiet Girl never said boo to us was par for the course. Hell, we didn't even know they even really knew who each other was. The class change happened and now the floodgates have opened. Every whiner on the team is now wanting to rush to guidance to get their schedule changed because after all, Quiet Girl did.

Mean Girl, in the meantime, is batting her eyelashes, proclaiming her innocence, and then running up to Ms. Language and Miss Reading (she knows better than to suck up to Mrs. Social Studies and me) tattling about Hyperventilating Girl and everyone else she can think of. I might add that Mean Girl, like most students, think of teachers as furniture so she doesn't realize how often I, and her other teachers, actually hear her snotty comments. I circulate through the room all the time (which is why my chair looks new - I rarely sit in it) and they'll all just carry on like I'm not there at times. Amazing what gossip you can pick up.

And then there's the whole lunchroom drama about someone taking a Capri Sun drink and squeezing it, and getting a few other someones wet with it and Now We All Want Class Changes Because We Don't Want To Be With Those People.

Oh dear Lord, if I don't go postal on these kids before the week is out, it will be a miracle.

Carnival Time!

Do you need a break like I do? If so, chill for a bit and head over to Right Wing Nation for this week's carnival!!! And bring some ice cream!

Dairy Product Disbelief

I swear to goodness, you can't make this stuff up.

I am back to teaching my classes and we're doing our unit on flowers and plants. This isn't a difficult unit. We've already done the whole photosynthesis thing and now we're moving on to plant and flower parts, reproduction, and the importance of plants in our world. The kids actually do pretty well on this, probably because we're talking about sex. Yeah, it's plant reproduction, but it's still sex in their minds.

So, it's my Fourth Period Class From the Very Depths of Hell Itself, and we're finishing up the interactive reader packet that we're working on and I begin wrapping up the lesson by reinforcing, yet again, how important that plants are to our survival. I mention that nearly everything we eat comes from a plant product or it ate a plant product before we ate it. For example, I mention that the cow that produces the hamburger, the cheese, and the ice cream they all like ate grass, which is a plant.

And then I hear this voice..."You mean ice cream comes from a cow?"

And another, "A cow? Really? It comes from a cow?"

And pretty soon there's about dozen astonished faces looking at me in various stages of shock, disbelief, and amazement and they're all going on about the utterly amazing fact that ice cream - ice cream! - comes from, of all things, a cow.

I look across at Mrs. Jayhawker and she looks at me and we're both exchanging looks that say, "Oh. My. God. They have no clue that ice cream is a dairy product and it comes from a cow."

I was momentarily stunned (and after six years of seventh grade, that takes some work to stun me.)

"You guys seriously didn't know that cream, that makes ice cream, comes from a cow?" I ask.

They all respond in the affirmative. They had no idea. Two kids are grossed out about it (oh get real) and they're all just amazed. One wanted to know how it got flavored. It didn't occur to them that you could mix stuff up in ice cream to make it flavored.

I'll have to admit that this is the first time that I've encountered nearly an entire classroom of twelve and thirteen year olds that had no clue about the origins of most dairy products. Amazing. I'm guessing they all thing it just comes to Walmart.

Still, it's rather sad in a way that these kids live a life in such a vacuum that they don't even know where the food they eat actually, originally, comes from. And kind of scary as well.

A Parent Crawls Out of the Woodwork

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.

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.