The other day I'm in Our Happy Little Portable, doing my thing with a handful of kids (it had been a calm week) when The Guidance Gramma calls.
"Hello Mrs. Bluebird, I was wondering if you could spare a moment. I have a student here who really would like to talk to you. If you want, I could bring her down to your room."
Okay so this is a bit odd, I think, but I do have quite a few kids who think of me as Second Momma (it's that Tough Love School Momma Thing I have going according to The Principal), so I figured it must be one of my breakfast bunch who come out in the morning to eat breakfast and chat.
"Oh really? Who?" I ask, thinking it could be any number of kids I know. They all seem to have issues. That, however, is middle school at its best.
"It's Runaway Girl," she says.
I pause for a moment. I don't recognize the name. I am completely dumbfounded as to whom she is talking about.
"I'm afraid I don't know anyone by that name," I spit out. "Are you sure she wants to talk to me?"
"Really? You don't know her," said Guidance Gramma. I can hear her talk to a kid, most likely sitting at her table in her room. "Do you know Mrs. Bluebird?" she asks.
Muffled voices.
"She says she doesn't know you but her best friend, 2nd Period Aide Girl, says you're really awesome to talk to, so she would like to.
Ah. So now it makes sense. I apparently got a referral.
"Mrs. Glamour is here to watch the kids, and I need to run into the building anyway so I'll swing by your office," I tell her.
So, I go in the building, do my quick errands, and then drop by Guidance Gramma's office. She gives me a brief introduction and then offers to let us talk in private in her office. She, along with the student teacher (student counselor?) who is with her leave.
So I talk to Runaway Girl and get the whole story, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah...give her my advice, and after about 15 minutes she seems a lot happier and we open the door.
And I feel really awkward because, in reality, I just kicked the Guidance Gramma out of her office to do counseling with a kid who would rather talk to me than her, and she's the Professional!
Okay that was weird.
So Runaway Girl scampers back to class and Guidance Gramma and her student person ask me what I told her and of course, it was the same thing they told her (thank goodness, I was afraid I'd screw something up.) Guidance Gramma thought the whole thing was funny (another, whew, thank goodness) and in truth it was. I mean really, how weird is that that some kid you don't even know wants to talk to you about their life problems, just because her best friend suggested it.
But apparently I have a reputation. And need to start thinking about some counseling in-service opportunities, apparently.
Friday, April 15, 2016
Tuesday, March 08, 2016
If One is Good, Two Must be Better
You can almost guarantee that if it's a nice day and we haven't had a fire drill yet, then we're going to have one. We're required to do one a month, so the first nice day of the month should probably be known as Fire Drill Day.
And that's what we had today.
Perfect weather. 74. Sunny. Little wind.
So, around the beginning of sixth period, the alarms went off and we filed out and stood around for a few minutes enjoying the sunshine. I only had four kids, who were pretty nice and well-behaved, so it was pleasant.
We filed back in after the all clear, waited a few minutes for the hall to clear so we could go in for our bathroom break, had our break, then went back to Our Happy Little Portable.
And then we had another fire drill.
Not sure what the deal was...whether or not the alarm got reset correctly or what, but hey, it was a gorgeous day, so why not?
And that's what we had today.
Perfect weather. 74. Sunny. Little wind.
So, around the beginning of sixth period, the alarms went off and we filed out and stood around for a few minutes enjoying the sunshine. I only had four kids, who were pretty nice and well-behaved, so it was pleasant.
We filed back in after the all clear, waited a few minutes for the hall to clear so we could go in for our bathroom break, had our break, then went back to Our Happy Little Portable.
And then we had another fire drill.
Not sure what the deal was...whether or not the alarm got reset correctly or what, but hey, it was a gorgeous day, so why not?
Saturday, February 20, 2016
Momma of the Year
I had a student assigned to Our Happy Little Portable this week for two days. She didn't appear on the first day so I marked her absent and sent out my attendance to let everyone know (who bothers to even read my emails) who was supposed to be with me and who was absent. Within five minutes of sending that out I had one phone call from Coach Fear who said he saw her get off the bus, and another from a social studies teacher who saw her walk down the hall towards the eighth grade wing.
Ten minutes later she was escorted to Our Happy Little Portable by Mrs. Sparrow who later called her back in to work her referral and added an additional two days. Miss Drama was apparently trying to stir up a fight with another eighth grade girl and decided she hadn't learned her lesson the first time (which is why she ended up with me in the first place).
Mrs. Sparrow called and said that Drama's Momma had expressed the desire to talk to Miss Drama and would most likely swing by after lunch if it was okay with me. Heck, I don't care. Our Happy Little Portable has an open door policy and I'm delighted if parents of myinmates students want to come out and visit.
So after lunch I get a call from the front office telling me that Drama Momma had appeared and could she please talk with her daughter? I, again, said no problem, and she said she'd just drive around back to where our building was and would be there in a bit. A few minutes later there is a knock on the door and this small, elegantly dressed and very professional looking woman is on my deck.
I told her that I didn't have any privacy for her to speak to her daughter out in Our Happy Little Portable, so if it was okay with her (and it was a halfway nice day), they could simple step out on my deck and have their conversation there. Drama Momma said that would be "delightful" and so Miss Drama, who is about twice the size of her mother, trudged out onto the deck.
The door closed.
And then the yelling began.
My first thought was "that little woman can certainly give her daughter what for!"...while my second thought was that I better turn up the music so that the kids couldn't hear exactly what she was saying. Every kid in Our Happy Little Portable was looking up from their work, eyes riveted on the door. You could almost see the thought bubbles above their head with "Thank God that's not my mom!" written in them.
This went on for fifteen minutes.
During that time I got an email from a teacher asking if I could send a kid in to pick up an assignment. I informed him that I really didn't want to open our door at this time since there was quite a mother daughter moment on our deck, but I would be sending a kid in as soon as the drama ended.
Finally, there was a knock at the door. I opened it, Miss Drama trudged back in and went to her seat (madder than a wet hen, truth be told) and Drama Momma reached out, shook my hand, told me how nice it was to meet me and then left.
We were all sort of stunned. That tiny, little, polite woman was the one that just ripped her daughter up one side and down the other? Man, what a woman!
Unfortunately, her daughter isn't too bright. Two hours later when the buses were loading, and I let my kids out to get on their buses, Miss Drama YET AGAIN, tried to start a fight with another girl.
She has been suspended. I'm sure she's having a wonderful, delightful time at home with her Momma. I can only imagine the dinner table conversations.
And the best part? Miss Drama wasn't even attempting to fight the right girl...she's in the middle of a big girl drama and got the wires crossed and was after the wrong person.
Big face slap on that one.
Ten minutes later she was escorted to Our Happy Little Portable by Mrs. Sparrow who later called her back in to work her referral and added an additional two days. Miss Drama was apparently trying to stir up a fight with another eighth grade girl and decided she hadn't learned her lesson the first time (which is why she ended up with me in the first place).
Mrs. Sparrow called and said that Drama's Momma had expressed the desire to talk to Miss Drama and would most likely swing by after lunch if it was okay with me. Heck, I don't care. Our Happy Little Portable has an open door policy and I'm delighted if parents of my
So after lunch I get a call from the front office telling me that Drama Momma had appeared and could she please talk with her daughter? I, again, said no problem, and she said she'd just drive around back to where our building was and would be there in a bit. A few minutes later there is a knock on the door and this small, elegantly dressed and very professional looking woman is on my deck.
I told her that I didn't have any privacy for her to speak to her daughter out in Our Happy Little Portable, so if it was okay with her (and it was a halfway nice day), they could simple step out on my deck and have their conversation there. Drama Momma said that would be "delightful" and so Miss Drama, who is about twice the size of her mother, trudged out onto the deck.
The door closed.
And then the yelling began.
My first thought was "that little woman can certainly give her daughter what for!"...while my second thought was that I better turn up the music so that the kids couldn't hear exactly what she was saying. Every kid in Our Happy Little Portable was looking up from their work, eyes riveted on the door. You could almost see the thought bubbles above their head with "Thank God that's not my mom!" written in them.
This went on for fifteen minutes.
During that time I got an email from a teacher asking if I could send a kid in to pick up an assignment. I informed him that I really didn't want to open our door at this time since there was quite a mother daughter moment on our deck, but I would be sending a kid in as soon as the drama ended.
Finally, there was a knock at the door. I opened it, Miss Drama trudged back in and went to her seat (madder than a wet hen, truth be told) and Drama Momma reached out, shook my hand, told me how nice it was to meet me and then left.
We were all sort of stunned. That tiny, little, polite woman was the one that just ripped her daughter up one side and down the other? Man, what a woman!
Unfortunately, her daughter isn't too bright. Two hours later when the buses were loading, and I let my kids out to get on their buses, Miss Drama YET AGAIN, tried to start a fight with another girl.
She has been suspended. I'm sure she's having a wonderful, delightful time at home with her Momma. I can only imagine the dinner table conversations.
And the best part? Miss Drama wasn't even attempting to fight the right girl...she's in the middle of a big girl drama and got the wires crossed and was after the wrong person.
Big face slap on that one.
Tuesday, February 09, 2016
We Told You So
If you've been one of the two readers of this blog you probably are well aware of the fact that I think this national obsession with testing kids is harmful and I am not a fan. At all. The Very Big Deal Government Mandated Tests have become the focus of education. Schools are judged on it, teachers are judged on it, and our kids are judged on it. Sure some testing is necessary, but in My District we seem to test all the freaking time.
Anyway, a few years ago, our State decided to do away with our old format of testing which we did in late April and early May and go with a two part test - a writing test in February and then a more traditional multiple choice sort of test in April and May. (So, you see what you have here? More testing.) The kicker was that this was all going to be online.
Really. The brilliant idea was to test all the kids in the State through the same website on the same day at the same time, more or less. Now I'm lucky in that my District actually doesn't do too bad when it comes to technology, but for some of our rural districts, this, obviously was an issue. So millions and millions and millions of tax dollars have been spent to upgrade school technology throughout the state so we could all be ready and able to take The Very Big Deal Government Mandated Tests online. Even my district, as ahead of the curve as we were, was going to have to do the testing in stages because we do not have a 1:1 ratio of computers to kids. My building opted for four days of testing for the sixth graders, then the following week would be seventh, and the week after that, eighth.
Yes, folks, that's three weeks of testing.
We have spent the past two years getting ready for this. Our tech people have busted their tails to make sure our technology is working. Our teachers have practiced and practiced and practiced with the kids so they are familiar with the program. Our kids, many of whom only see computers at school and who are much more familiar with phones and tablets as technology, have practiced and practiced. I put kids on the computer quite a bit out in my Happy Little Portable, simply to practice their typing skills...because...if they can't type well on this timed test, it will impact their scores (or, as my mother asked, "Is it a test of typing or a test of knowledge?") If we counted all the hours we put in to practicing for this online test, it would boggle the mind.
So yesterday was The Very First Day of the Very Big Deal Government Mandated Test.
Our sixth graders went to their testing locations (because we had to spread them around the building so they wouldn't all hit the same part of the network.) They opened their laptops. They signed in. They began their test.
And within thirty minutes the entire thing blew up.
The servers at the State level just couldn't handle it. The kids got error messages. Emails flew back and forth and finally the District got the word from the State level to just Stop The Testing.
Late last night word went out that we will no longer be doing on-line testing this year. The Commissioner of Education no longer has faith in the outside vendor hired to do the job (and you don't want to know what it cost, truly.) The finger pointing has begun. We will be receiving paper and pencil tests - exactly with the same content as the online, but instead of typing, the kids will be writing by hand - sometime this month. The State will let us know.
Two years ago this month I sat in a meeting at the Capitol with a number of legislators the week after a statewide online writing test was launched for the Eighth Grade Only and it blew up. That news didn't hit the media. When we mentioned it to the legislators They Had Not Heard a Thing. The whole thing seemed to have been hushed up. And we told them right then and there that the technology wasn't there to do this thing on a statewide scale. And they didn't listen.
So. I told you so.
And you know what makes me the angriest? That we have wasted so much time on this stupid online test and our kids are learning to absolutely hate school.
It's the kids I feel sorry for.
Anyway, a few years ago, our State decided to do away with our old format of testing which we did in late April and early May and go with a two part test - a writing test in February and then a more traditional multiple choice sort of test in April and May. (So, you see what you have here? More testing.) The kicker was that this was all going to be online.
Really. The brilliant idea was to test all the kids in the State through the same website on the same day at the same time, more or less. Now I'm lucky in that my District actually doesn't do too bad when it comes to technology, but for some of our rural districts, this, obviously was an issue. So millions and millions and millions of tax dollars have been spent to upgrade school technology throughout the state so we could all be ready and able to take The Very Big Deal Government Mandated Tests online. Even my district, as ahead of the curve as we were, was going to have to do the testing in stages because we do not have a 1:1 ratio of computers to kids. My building opted for four days of testing for the sixth graders, then the following week would be seventh, and the week after that, eighth.
Yes, folks, that's three weeks of testing.
We have spent the past two years getting ready for this. Our tech people have busted their tails to make sure our technology is working. Our teachers have practiced and practiced and practiced with the kids so they are familiar with the program. Our kids, many of whom only see computers at school and who are much more familiar with phones and tablets as technology, have practiced and practiced. I put kids on the computer quite a bit out in my Happy Little Portable, simply to practice their typing skills...because...if they can't type well on this timed test, it will impact their scores (or, as my mother asked, "Is it a test of typing or a test of knowledge?") If we counted all the hours we put in to practicing for this online test, it would boggle the mind.
So yesterday was The Very First Day of the Very Big Deal Government Mandated Test.
Our sixth graders went to their testing locations (because we had to spread them around the building so they wouldn't all hit the same part of the network.) They opened their laptops. They signed in. They began their test.
And within thirty minutes the entire thing blew up.
The servers at the State level just couldn't handle it. The kids got error messages. Emails flew back and forth and finally the District got the word from the State level to just Stop The Testing.
Late last night word went out that we will no longer be doing on-line testing this year. The Commissioner of Education no longer has faith in the outside vendor hired to do the job (and you don't want to know what it cost, truly.) The finger pointing has begun. We will be receiving paper and pencil tests - exactly with the same content as the online, but instead of typing, the kids will be writing by hand - sometime this month. The State will let us know.
Two years ago this month I sat in a meeting at the Capitol with a number of legislators the week after a statewide online writing test was launched for the Eighth Grade Only and it blew up. That news didn't hit the media. When we mentioned it to the legislators They Had Not Heard a Thing. The whole thing seemed to have been hushed up. And we told them right then and there that the technology wasn't there to do this thing on a statewide scale. And they didn't listen.
So. I told you so.
And you know what makes me the angriest? That we have wasted so much time on this stupid online test and our kids are learning to absolutely hate school.
It's the kids I feel sorry for.
Monday, February 01, 2016
The Middle School Bartender
One of the few talents I do have in this world is that I am apparently a good listener. I say apparently because I'm also quite the talker, and those are usually mutually exclusive. Yet for some reason I always get kids (and now, young adults) who like to talk to me, tell me their problems, vent their frustrations, and sometimes spill their guts.
There is not a day that goes by that I'm not listening to some kid's story about life's injustices, the mean girls in school, the basketball play that went awry, or the fact that mom got arrested again. I hear it all. So much so that the Guidance Goddess once remarked that I'm like the middle school bartender...the kids sidle up to my desk and spell their guts.
I'm just not handing out drinks. Although sometimes I may need to go home and have one of my own.
Today was no exception.
My Happy Little Portable is in the parking lot next to the end of the 8th grade hallway so I get anywhere from half a dozen to about ten eighth graders who drop by in the morning to eat breakfast and talk. One of my regulars is Sparkle Girl who I had last year (and I thought hated my guts like her older brother did about nine years ago). This family has issues - no dad in the picture, mom has major health problems and can't work, and is hearing impaired so communication is with the older brother who is more or less acting like the parent for Sparkle and her adorable little brother who is in sixth grade. Sparkle has potential. Lots of potential. What she doesn't have is food. She mentioned, off hand while eating her free breakfast, that they had run out of food in the house last night so all she'd get to eat was what she was getting at school.
And this isn't the first time I've heard this. I had arranged a few months ago for her and the little brother to get on our FUEL free food bag program, but the bags don't go out until Fridays and I wasn't sure when the EBT card would arrive for these kids and who would actually be able to go shopping with it, especially if older brother was away working. So, I made some calls and got an extra food bag sent home. It's not much, but it's something.
Then Guidance calls and asks if one of my kids from last year, Waif Girl, could spend the day. Waif was having a BAD day due to social media bullying, which is really just the tip of the ice berg with her. Mom hasn't paid the bills in a while so the power and water has been shut off, mom is staying with some "friends", and Waif has been staying with a friend and his mom for a few weeks. Mom isn't being really good at checking in with Waif, so it sounds like she's been more or less dumped and abandoned. Waif wanted to be out with me, away from most of the other kids, and after collecting her assignments came out and spilled her guts and did her work. Again, another kid with an amazing amount of potential but the grown ups in her life aren't acting like grown ups.
Then my phone starts to buzz and it's Skater Squirt, who is now 23, complaining about his boss (who is really the winner of the lucky sperm award and wouldn't have a business if it wasn't for daddy's money). Skater Squirt texts me about his frustrations on a job he was working on today (having to wait on a contractor, the order was messed up, the boss measured wrong again, etc.) I text back during my planning and convince him that the world isn't going to end, and maybe it's time to revisit that application for the fire department he was talking about.
And then, when I wasn't acting like a therapist, I was trying to get kids to do their work, dealing with 8th grade math issues (I hate 8th grade math), and trying not to lose my patience with a kid who wanted to get suspended in the worst way.
So I'm the Middle School bartender....come tell me your story.
There is not a day that goes by that I'm not listening to some kid's story about life's injustices, the mean girls in school, the basketball play that went awry, or the fact that mom got arrested again. I hear it all. So much so that the Guidance Goddess once remarked that I'm like the middle school bartender...the kids sidle up to my desk and spell their guts.
I'm just not handing out drinks. Although sometimes I may need to go home and have one of my own.
Today was no exception.
My Happy Little Portable is in the parking lot next to the end of the 8th grade hallway so I get anywhere from half a dozen to about ten eighth graders who drop by in the morning to eat breakfast and talk. One of my regulars is Sparkle Girl who I had last year (and I thought hated my guts like her older brother did about nine years ago). This family has issues - no dad in the picture, mom has major health problems and can't work, and is hearing impaired so communication is with the older brother who is more or less acting like the parent for Sparkle and her adorable little brother who is in sixth grade. Sparkle has potential. Lots of potential. What she doesn't have is food. She mentioned, off hand while eating her free breakfast, that they had run out of food in the house last night so all she'd get to eat was what she was getting at school.
And this isn't the first time I've heard this. I had arranged a few months ago for her and the little brother to get on our FUEL free food bag program, but the bags don't go out until Fridays and I wasn't sure when the EBT card would arrive for these kids and who would actually be able to go shopping with it, especially if older brother was away working. So, I made some calls and got an extra food bag sent home. It's not much, but it's something.
Then Guidance calls and asks if one of my kids from last year, Waif Girl, could spend the day. Waif was having a BAD day due to social media bullying, which is really just the tip of the ice berg with her. Mom hasn't paid the bills in a while so the power and water has been shut off, mom is staying with some "friends", and Waif has been staying with a friend and his mom for a few weeks. Mom isn't being really good at checking in with Waif, so it sounds like she's been more or less dumped and abandoned. Waif wanted to be out with me, away from most of the other kids, and after collecting her assignments came out and spilled her guts and did her work. Again, another kid with an amazing amount of potential but the grown ups in her life aren't acting like grown ups.
Then my phone starts to buzz and it's Skater Squirt, who is now 23, complaining about his boss (who is really the winner of the lucky sperm award and wouldn't have a business if it wasn't for daddy's money). Skater Squirt texts me about his frustrations on a job he was working on today (having to wait on a contractor, the order was messed up, the boss measured wrong again, etc.) I text back during my planning and convince him that the world isn't going to end, and maybe it's time to revisit that application for the fire department he was talking about.
And then, when I wasn't acting like a therapist, I was trying to get kids to do their work, dealing with 8th grade math issues (I hate 8th grade math), and trying not to lose my patience with a kid who wanted to get suspended in the worst way.
So I'm the Middle School bartender....come tell me your story.
Monday, January 11, 2016
Baby, It's Warm Inside
So apparently mice will eat cough drops.
Truly.
I know this because I opened my desk drawer last week after returning from our Christmas break and discovered about a dozen cough drop wrappers in a slightly shredded state, not one cough drop, and a quantity of mouse droppings to round out the surprise.
Oh freaking great.
My aide, after going through her desk, informed me that they will also nibble on Splenda packets, chew on straws, and tear apart tea bags.
Little Bastards.
We have no food - nothing - anywhere in the room with the exception of the refrigerator. Everything is in there - Jolly Ranchers, tea bags, Keurig cups - because who knows what the Little Bastards will chew on next. The drawback is that kids eat breakfast and lunch in there so the crumbs may be an attraction, although I've threatened severe bodily harm to any kid who so much as drops a raisin on the floor. Meanwhile the kids are all on the hunt, hoping they'll spy one of the Little Bastards. Why this is important, I have no idea, but it apparently is. I'd rather they were on the hunt to find them and eliminate them from Our Happy Little Portable.
The Problem, says Head Custodian, isn't food, but the fact that it's now cold outside and the Little Bastards have figured out that it's warmer in Our Happy Little Portable. Even though I drop the temperature down to 60 every afternoon before I leave, it's still significantly warmer than Outside. (It was 13 this morning.)
So, Head Custodian is going to get traps, which bothers me because I'm the first one in the room in the morning and I don't want to deal with a dead or dying rodent. Then again, I'm not happy about cleaning up mouse droppings from our counters and desks either.
Really, I need to bring my cats to work. They'd solve the problem, sit on my lap, and purr. That's much more pleasant.
Truly.
I know this because I opened my desk drawer last week after returning from our Christmas break and discovered about a dozen cough drop wrappers in a slightly shredded state, not one cough drop, and a quantity of mouse droppings to round out the surprise.
Oh freaking great.
My aide, after going through her desk, informed me that they will also nibble on Splenda packets, chew on straws, and tear apart tea bags.
Little Bastards.
We have no food - nothing - anywhere in the room with the exception of the refrigerator. Everything is in there - Jolly Ranchers, tea bags, Keurig cups - because who knows what the Little Bastards will chew on next. The drawback is that kids eat breakfast and lunch in there so the crumbs may be an attraction, although I've threatened severe bodily harm to any kid who so much as drops a raisin on the floor. Meanwhile the kids are all on the hunt, hoping they'll spy one of the Little Bastards. Why this is important, I have no idea, but it apparently is. I'd rather they were on the hunt to find them and eliminate them from Our Happy Little Portable.
The Problem, says Head Custodian, isn't food, but the fact that it's now cold outside and the Little Bastards have figured out that it's warmer in Our Happy Little Portable. Even though I drop the temperature down to 60 every afternoon before I leave, it's still significantly warmer than Outside. (It was 13 this morning.)
So, Head Custodian is going to get traps, which bothers me because I'm the first one in the room in the morning and I don't want to deal with a dead or dying rodent. Then again, I'm not happy about cleaning up mouse droppings from our counters and desks either.
Really, I need to bring my cats to work. They'd solve the problem, sit on my lap, and purr. That's much more pleasant.
Monday, December 21, 2015
Hum, Hum, Humming Along
The past few weeks I've seen an influx of sixth grade customers to Our Happy Little Portable. This tells me that the honeymoon is over with our youngest kiddos, and they've finally worn their teachers' patience thin. I've seen the same 5 or 6 sixth graders all year, but the past two weeks saw some new faces.
The funny thing about sixth graders is they're so flipping small compared to most seventh and eighth grade kids, and often look like little angels when they come in. This past week I had Humming Girl, all brown braids and big eyes behind huge glasses. This kid looked like she never made a peep and couldn't ever manage to make it out to ISS. However, even the most angelic child can lose their mind and this one, apparently, cussed out our Mrs. Band Teacher. (Really? Like the sweetest lady on earth?)
In any case, as it was nearing the end of the grading period, kids who didn't have a lot of make up work often needed stuff to do. And thankfully Mrs. Math had given me a link to a great website that had math fact coloring sheets - It's here, if you're interested. In any case, I gave Humming Girl a couple of these to work on - NO CALCULATOR - which just aggravates the hell out of the kids...and she happily sat at the desk next to my desk, solving her math facts and coloring.
And humming.
Humming Christmas Carols.
All. Day. Long.
She was rather quiet about it, so the only people who could hear her were me and a kid or two that were working up at the front table. One of them, an 8th grade Repeat Customer, looked at her, and looked at me, eyebrows raised.
I nodded my head, letting him know I could hear her too. "It's okay," I said quietly to him, "she's not hurting anybody."
He nodded and went back to work.
And we listened to Christmas Carols the remainder of the day and it was just kind of nice.
The funny thing about sixth graders is they're so flipping small compared to most seventh and eighth grade kids, and often look like little angels when they come in. This past week I had Humming Girl, all brown braids and big eyes behind huge glasses. This kid looked like she never made a peep and couldn't ever manage to make it out to ISS. However, even the most angelic child can lose their mind and this one, apparently, cussed out our Mrs. Band Teacher. (Really? Like the sweetest lady on earth?)
In any case, as it was nearing the end of the grading period, kids who didn't have a lot of make up work often needed stuff to do. And thankfully Mrs. Math had given me a link to a great website that had math fact coloring sheets - It's here, if you're interested. In any case, I gave Humming Girl a couple of these to work on - NO CALCULATOR - which just aggravates the hell out of the kids...and she happily sat at the desk next to my desk, solving her math facts and coloring.
And humming.
Humming Christmas Carols.
All. Day. Long.
She was rather quiet about it, so the only people who could hear her were me and a kid or two that were working up at the front table. One of them, an 8th grade Repeat Customer, looked at her, and looked at me, eyebrows raised.
I nodded my head, letting him know I could hear her too. "It's okay," I said quietly to him, "she's not hurting anybody."
He nodded and went back to work.
And we listened to Christmas Carols the remainder of the day and it was just kind of nice.
Wednesday, December 09, 2015
Sometimes You Can't Say No
Our Happy Little Portable is rapidly becoming "the" place to get caught up on your work and boost your grades, especially among the 8th grade kids.
True, it usually is pretty quiet in there as my typical number of kids is about eight, but I've been as low as one and then had a lot of new additions to boost my numbers to 18. (That is NOT fun). Today I started out with one kid and after lunch seven more arrived. But honestly, if the numbers are fairly low, it really is a good place to get caught up.
And apparently the word is out.
Fourth period arrived today and with it came Baseball Boy who is my student aide for fourth period, along with another kid I had last year. Last year Lazy Boy was beyond lazy, but he was also rude and got into trouble almost constantly. He ended up the year with something like 250 discipline points and was on the verge of being expelled. But for some reason the kid liked me. Anyhow I hadn't seen him this year, which is huge, because it means he hasn't been in trouble much (I looked. Here we are halfway through the year and he has 15 points. He got that much in a DAY last year.)
"Lazy Boy needs to talk to you," said Baseball Boy.
"Yeah, I want to know if I can come to ISS for the rest of the week and next week until I get my grades up," he said.
I about fell over.
"Really?" I replied.
"Yeah, I go in front of a judge in January and I need to have C grades in all my classes or I go to Juvie," says Lazy Boy. "I really need your help. Baseball Boy says it's quiet here and you help kids."
"Well it can be," I said. "And other times it can be crazy."
"I promise I'll be good," he said.
"You can only come out during your related arts," I told him. "You need to be in your academic classes."
"So I can come out third and fourth period?" he asked. "Oh my gosh, Mrs. Bluebird, that would be amazing.
Oh jeez. Really. How can I say no? So I pulled up his grades and missing work and he does have his work cut out for him. Sent him and Baseball Boy into the building to get work from his teachers, and then emailed The Principal, and his teachers and the guidance counselor he talks to all the time and said if it was okay with them, I'd like to keep him for his related arts and help him get his grades up. Seemed to make everyone happy, so I put him at the work table with Baseball Boy (who's really bright and a good student) and they worked on math the rest of the period.
I may have opened a Pandora's box and now all the kids will want to be out here to "catch up", but honestly I couldn't say no. We'll see how it goes.
And the good thing is with Baseball Boy helping him, he won't be driving me insane.
UPDATE:
Update on Lazy Boy - every day he came in, got to work, I didn't have to get after him One Single Time. I was having trouble believing this was the same kid I had last year that had racked up nearly 300 discipline points in seventh grade. He got his grades up. Not sure if they're high enough for the Judge, but he did pull them up. We'll see how the court date goes in January.
UPDATE:
Update on Lazy Boy - every day he came in, got to work, I didn't have to get after him One Single Time. I was having trouble believing this was the same kid I had last year that had racked up nearly 300 discipline points in seventh grade. He got his grades up. Not sure if they're high enough for the Judge, but he did pull them up. We'll see how the court date goes in January.
Sunday, November 29, 2015
Doing the Unexpected...and Watch Their Heads Explode
One of the things I've learned over this year is I tend to see the same 30-40 kids over and over. Of course, once in a while we'll get a newcomer, but for the most part it's the same crew. What this means is that after a while I get to know them fairly well.
Mouthy Girl has only been with us twice but she likes to drop by for breakfast in the morning just to chat, so I see her quite a bit. And she's pretty much a hot mess. Mom has gone to court to file an unruly teen petition against her and she's spent time in juvenile detention. But she seems to like me and I rarely have any issues with her.
Until about a week ago when she was escorted to Our Happy Little Portable by Mrs. Sparrow, one of the administrators.
It seems to our 8th graders had the traditional field trip to the local University that particular Thursday. This is a TWO HOUR field trip, so it's not like it's a great big adventure or anything, but the kids look forward to it because it's something different and for many of them it's a huge slap in the face. They realize that they're almost in high school and they get the "Holy Crap We Need to Start Thinking About Our Future" wake up call. So it's not like it's an all day trip to the zoo or a museum or something. It's TWO HOURS.
Mouthy Girl had apparently turned in her permission slip but for whatever reason, her mother called the front office and said she did not want her to go on the trip. Chances are it was mom's way of punishing Mouthy Girl for something. Who knows? In any case, Mouthy Girl was called in her homeroom and told to come out to ISS (she was assigned there anyway, to report after the field trip to the University) as she was no longer allowed to go on the field trip.
Apparently, instead of heading our way, she walked to the front office and demanded to talk to her mother about why she was no longer allowed to go. One of our amazing secretaries (bless their hearts, these women See and Hear It All) called mom and what ensued was apparently a tirade on behalf of Mouthy Girl who threatened to kill her mother if she didn't get to go on the field trip. Much yelling, cursing, and screaming ensued until Mrs. Sparrow was able to wrestle the phone away from her and haul her off to a conference room for a discussion on How We Behave When We Talk to Our Parents.
At this point I'm trying to track this kid down, she's supposed to be out with me, she hasn't shown, etc., and I finally get wind of what happened. A few minutes later she appears with Mrs. Sparrow, slings her backpack down the aisle and stomps back to the very last station and sits.
"She's a little angry right now," Mrs. Sparrow whispers."You heard what happened? I'm going to have to give her a few more days up here with you due to that display in the front office."
"No problem," I answer. I'm used to kids arriving mad. It's part of the job.
"Well good luck," she says and off she goes.
So I let Mouthy Girl sit there and fume for about fifteen minutes, and in the meantime I had my seventh graders and six grader sit up front with me so we could work on some assignments. They kept looking over their shoulders at Mouthy Girl, wondering what she'd do next.
After a bit I went back to where she was sitting and said, "Hey, kiddo, I need you to move on up to station 5 and get your backpack unpacked."
Apparently that was NOT the thing to say.
"I'm NOT moving to station five and I'm NOT emptying my backpack and you can leave me the fuck alone!" she screamed.
At this point, most kids when they curse like that to a grown up, whether it's a parent or a teacher, are used to getting screamed back at. Which is probably what Mouthy Girl expected considering the relationship she and her mother had. But that wasn't my first response.
I laughed.
Seriously.
"Well, alrighty then," I said as I giggled and walked back to my desk where my other kids were sitting silently with their mouths hanging open.
"Aren't you going to do anything?" one of them whispered.
"Well, yeah," I said, "I'm going to write her up. But other than that, no."
"Really?" They all looked at each other as if I'd lost my mind. What was this? An adult not yelling at a kid for cursing? What the heck was going on here?
I love watching their heads explode when I do the unexpected.
The end result? Mouthy Girl eventually calmed down, on her own, and moved to station 5. She unpacked her backpack, got to work on assignments and was the model student. She did get three extra days with us for the display in the office and the f-bomb, but that wasn't a bad thing because she got caught up on her missing work.
There's a lot to be said for having a wacky sense of humor.
Mouthy Girl has only been with us twice but she likes to drop by for breakfast in the morning just to chat, so I see her quite a bit. And she's pretty much a hot mess. Mom has gone to court to file an unruly teen petition against her and she's spent time in juvenile detention. But she seems to like me and I rarely have any issues with her.
Until about a week ago when she was escorted to Our Happy Little Portable by Mrs. Sparrow, one of the administrators.
It seems to our 8th graders had the traditional field trip to the local University that particular Thursday. This is a TWO HOUR field trip, so it's not like it's a great big adventure or anything, but the kids look forward to it because it's something different and for many of them it's a huge slap in the face. They realize that they're almost in high school and they get the "Holy Crap We Need to Start Thinking About Our Future" wake up call. So it's not like it's an all day trip to the zoo or a museum or something. It's TWO HOURS.
Mouthy Girl had apparently turned in her permission slip but for whatever reason, her mother called the front office and said she did not want her to go on the trip. Chances are it was mom's way of punishing Mouthy Girl for something. Who knows? In any case, Mouthy Girl was called in her homeroom and told to come out to ISS (she was assigned there anyway, to report after the field trip to the University) as she was no longer allowed to go on the field trip.
Apparently, instead of heading our way, she walked to the front office and demanded to talk to her mother about why she was no longer allowed to go. One of our amazing secretaries (bless their hearts, these women See and Hear It All) called mom and what ensued was apparently a tirade on behalf of Mouthy Girl who threatened to kill her mother if she didn't get to go on the field trip. Much yelling, cursing, and screaming ensued until Mrs. Sparrow was able to wrestle the phone away from her and haul her off to a conference room for a discussion on How We Behave When We Talk to Our Parents.
At this point I'm trying to track this kid down, she's supposed to be out with me, she hasn't shown, etc., and I finally get wind of what happened. A few minutes later she appears with Mrs. Sparrow, slings her backpack down the aisle and stomps back to the very last station and sits.
"She's a little angry right now," Mrs. Sparrow whispers."You heard what happened? I'm going to have to give her a few more days up here with you due to that display in the front office."
"No problem," I answer. I'm used to kids arriving mad. It's part of the job.
"Well good luck," she says and off she goes.
So I let Mouthy Girl sit there and fume for about fifteen minutes, and in the meantime I had my seventh graders and six grader sit up front with me so we could work on some assignments. They kept looking over their shoulders at Mouthy Girl, wondering what she'd do next.
After a bit I went back to where she was sitting and said, "Hey, kiddo, I need you to move on up to station 5 and get your backpack unpacked."
Apparently that was NOT the thing to say.
"I'm NOT moving to station five and I'm NOT emptying my backpack and you can leave me the fuck alone!" she screamed.
At this point, most kids when they curse like that to a grown up, whether it's a parent or a teacher, are used to getting screamed back at. Which is probably what Mouthy Girl expected considering the relationship she and her mother had. But that wasn't my first response.
I laughed.
Seriously.
"Well, alrighty then," I said as I giggled and walked back to my desk where my other kids were sitting silently with their mouths hanging open.
"Aren't you going to do anything?" one of them whispered.
"Well, yeah," I said, "I'm going to write her up. But other than that, no."
"Really?" They all looked at each other as if I'd lost my mind. What was this? An adult not yelling at a kid for cursing? What the heck was going on here?
I love watching their heads explode when I do the unexpected.
The end result? Mouthy Girl eventually calmed down, on her own, and moved to station 5. She unpacked her backpack, got to work on assignments and was the model student. She did get three extra days with us for the display in the office and the f-bomb, but that wasn't a bad thing because she got caught up on her missing work.
There's a lot to be said for having a wacky sense of humor.
Wednesday, November 18, 2015
Because You're Nice
One of my former students, a kid I had when I taught sixth grade and again in seventh, was assigned to ISS for three days. Lazy Boy is really, really lazy. Like so lazy he has an 18% in his science class this grading period, and we are five weeks into the period! He wasn't this bad in sixth, started failing in seventh and now is only passing one academic class, Reading Language Arts. His stated goal is to drop out of high school and play video games all day. His mom is part of the problem as she's happy if he's quiet and out of the way when he's playing video games. Making him do work is, well, too much work.
So was sent to me as he'd been disruptive and The Enforcer said, "See if you could get hm to do work."
I know Lazy Boy really well, again, because I taught him for two years, he's a friend of my nephew, and he's one of the kids who like to swing by my room to eat breakfast. So I know his sneaky tricks pretty well, and decided to put him Right Smack Dab Next To Me.
His teachers sent him stacks of missing work, I sat him down, told him I expected to see that pencil moving, and let him get to work.
WHich he did.
He sat, head down, and worked and worked and worked. He worked so hard I took a video and mailed it to the study hall teacher and the guidance counselor as proof that he can work. They were shocked.
So I asked hm why he was working for me.
"Because you're nice," he said.
"How you serious?"
"You and Mrs, Reading Language Arts are nice so I'll work for you."
"What about Mrs. Study Hall?"
"I don't like her. She's mean because I don't do my work."
"And you won't do the work because you don't think she's nice?"
"Yup."
Well, then.
Friday, October 09, 2015
I'm Ready
This was the last week before fall break.
Which means that The Principals had stacks of referrals to work and they wanted to get them done before break, obviously.
So on Wednesday, I went from two kids to 15 in the space of two hours. They were coming in so fast that we couldn't keep up with the in-processing paperwork and I ended up having to stay late to get it done so kids could have assignments ready the next day (we hope).
With that many kids in the room, I have to get a little tougher on them and that was a challenge for some of my more difficult customers. The end result was one got suspended (for talking, out of her seat, turning around, refusal to work, and my personal favorite, sitting there with her pencil sticking OUT of her ear). She was so annoying the entire portable erupted in applause when I had her escorted out to the Enforcer's office.
It takes a special kind of person to aggravate the most aggravating kids. She did it.
There is nothing quite like a middle school classroom on the Friday before break. And if that middle school classroom contains some of the most notorious troublemakers in the building, well. It makes for a long day. Especially when there is a pep rally for the high school homecoming. And the ISS kids can't go because, well, they're in ISS (they don't seem to get that).
It was a long day.
I'm ready for a week off.
Wednesday, September 30, 2015
I Can See You!
My ISS room is actually a portable. And my portable is not, obviously, attached to The Building. It's next to it, in the back, but not attached. And this summer while working in there getting my room set up, I realized that the door did not have a peephole. There are also no windows on the front of the portable.
What this meant was that there was absolutely no way to tell who was standing on my doorstep, knocking on my door.
I mentioned this to The Enforcer in July and he kind of shrugged me off.
"We've never had a peephole in the door. Mrs. Angel never asked for one."
"It's a security issue," I told him. "Anyone can drive back here, bypass the front office check in, and land on my doorstep and I have no idea who it is."
He thought about that for a second, "Jeez, you're right. I never thought of that."
Oh. Dear. Lord.
Maybe I'm paranoid (I grew up in The Big City) but jeepers, in this day and age, not having some sort of security measure out there as simple as a peephole is just insane.
So I put in a work order for a peephole at the end of July.
I followed up in the middle of August. Again in September. And again a week ago.
Nothing.
Then last week Mrs. Sparrow brings a kid down to me and knocks on my door.
"You don't have any way to see who is out here, do you?" she says in surprise.
"Nope, I don't. I requested a peephole in July, but as you can see..."
"Oh that's insane," she says. "I'll expedite this. That's just a horrible safety issue."
Today, September 30th. Two and a half months after I requested the peephole. Eight weeks into the school year....I finally get my peephole.
The district maintenance guy asked where I wanted it. I pointed to a level that would work well for me.
It was installed in five minutes.
Freaking amazing.
What this meant was that there was absolutely no way to tell who was standing on my doorstep, knocking on my door.
I mentioned this to The Enforcer in July and he kind of shrugged me off.
"We've never had a peephole in the door. Mrs. Angel never asked for one."
"It's a security issue," I told him. "Anyone can drive back here, bypass the front office check in, and land on my doorstep and I have no idea who it is."
He thought about that for a second, "Jeez, you're right. I never thought of that."
Oh. Dear. Lord.
Maybe I'm paranoid (I grew up in The Big City) but jeepers, in this day and age, not having some sort of security measure out there as simple as a peephole is just insane.
So I put in a work order for a peephole at the end of July.
I followed up in the middle of August. Again in September. And again a week ago.
Nothing.
Then last week Mrs. Sparrow brings a kid down to me and knocks on my door.
"You don't have any way to see who is out here, do you?" she says in surprise.
"Nope, I don't. I requested a peephole in July, but as you can see..."
"Oh that's insane," she says. "I'll expedite this. That's just a horrible safety issue."
Today, September 30th. Two and a half months after I requested the peephole. Eight weeks into the school year....I finally get my peephole.
The district maintenance guy asked where I wanted it. I pointed to a level that would work well for me.
It was installed in five minutes.
Freaking amazing.
When The Grown Ups Don't Act Like Grown Ups
Maybe it's because I come from a corporate environment where I worked for 15 years before deciding to teach. Or maybe it's because I'm pretty obsessively organized. Or maybe it's because I have high standards for myself (and others). Regardless, I've come to the realization that it's not the kids who are going to drive me crazy in this job...it's the teachers.
So today one of my 6th graders, who just spent three days with me in ISS and was released yesterday, shows up at my door.
"Miss Skinny said I need to get my work for her," she mumbles.
"The work you did in ISS?" I ask her, because with these kids you never know. Homework? Late work? Work that has been stuck in the depths of a binder since fourth grade?
"Hum...I think so," she responds. I tell her to go back to class and tell Miss Skinny that all her work has been completed and sent back to her. And, in order for her to get back into The Building, I have to send one of my "trustworthy" (this is ISS after all) students with the swipe card to let her in. (I don't have an aide in there all the time.)
She shows up a few minutes later, and we repeat the same scenario. Miss Skinny wants the work that 6th grader did in ISS. I again tell the kid to go back to class, I will email Miss Skinny and let her know that the work has been completed and turned in. I again have to have a student leave with the swipe card to let the 6th grader back into the building.
At this point, I'm annoyed. I have kids in there that need my help doing math and social studies, and I'm having to answer the door - twice - for a kid, when all the teacher should have done was call or email.
So I pull the sixth grader's file, pull out the science assignment sheet, and see that she had simply wrote "do attached" on the assignment sheet. This is something they have been told specifically NOT to do because if the assignments are are not listed, the kids realize they can tear off and lose some of the "attached", because there is no way to account for it. When a teacher does this, either myself or my aide end up having to go through the assignments and itemize them on the sheet so we know what the kid is responsible for. Miss Skinny did not do this.
I write Miss Skinny an email explaining what she had written, listing what she had sent, and informing her, nicely (I really was nice...truly) that each item had been checked off and initialed and was all put in her mailbox yesterday afternoon.
Her response?
"Oh. I haven't checked my mailbox yet today."
You. Have. Got. To. Be. Freaking. Kidding. Me.
So today one of my 6th graders, who just spent three days with me in ISS and was released yesterday, shows up at my door.
"Miss Skinny said I need to get my work for her," she mumbles.
"The work you did in ISS?" I ask her, because with these kids you never know. Homework? Late work? Work that has been stuck in the depths of a binder since fourth grade?
"Hum...I think so," she responds. I tell her to go back to class and tell Miss Skinny that all her work has been completed and sent back to her. And, in order for her to get back into The Building, I have to send one of my "trustworthy" (this is ISS after all) students with the swipe card to let her in. (I don't have an aide in there all the time.)
She shows up a few minutes later, and we repeat the same scenario. Miss Skinny wants the work that 6th grader did in ISS. I again tell the kid to go back to class, I will email Miss Skinny and let her know that the work has been completed and turned in. I again have to have a student leave with the swipe card to let the 6th grader back into the building.
At this point, I'm annoyed. I have kids in there that need my help doing math and social studies, and I'm having to answer the door - twice - for a kid, when all the teacher should have done was call or email.
So I pull the sixth grader's file, pull out the science assignment sheet, and see that she had simply wrote "do attached" on the assignment sheet. This is something they have been told specifically NOT to do because if the assignments are are not listed, the kids realize they can tear off and lose some of the "attached", because there is no way to account for it. When a teacher does this, either myself or my aide end up having to go through the assignments and itemize them on the sheet so we know what the kid is responsible for. Miss Skinny did not do this.
I write Miss Skinny an email explaining what she had written, listing what she had sent, and informing her, nicely (I really was nice...truly) that each item had been checked off and initialed and was all put in her mailbox yesterday afternoon.
Her response?
"Oh. I haven't checked my mailbox yet today."
You. Have. Got. To. Be. Freaking. Kidding. Me.
Saturday, September 26, 2015
Making a Grand Entrance
The other day I had a pretty full house of customers in our Happy Little Portable. We ranged from six to a grand total of 15, but seemed to hover pretty steady around ten. That's a lot of high maintenance kids in one place.
On Wednesday we had what was probably the most dramatic entrance yet to our Happy Little Portable. I was sitting at my desk, helping one of my kids with some assignment, when I could hear someone stomp up our ramp and then a key turn in my lock (my door is always locked). The door opened and standing there was Officer Awesome our SRO (Sheriff Reserve Officer) holding open the door for one of the maddest little seventh graders I'd ever laid eyes on.
Temper Boy had been with us before and for the most part is a halfway decent kid, but oh gosh, don't irritate him because he absolutely loses his mind and will pitch a fit and shut down. It's like flipping a switch. Apparently he'd been horrible for a substitute teacher, was escorted to The Principal's office, and she assigned him three days with me. He. Was. Not. Happy. The fact that he was actually escorted by Officer Awesome tells you something. Most kids get out to our Happy Little Portable on their own.
First off, he flung a handful of little teeny tiny pieces of paper into our trashcan by the door. I found out later that he had apparently torn his write-up into a bunch of little teeny tiny pieces and had scattered them from the building, along the sidewalk, and up the ramp to our Happy Little Portable. It was as if he'd left a trail of breadcrumbs along the trail so he could find his way back upon his escape.
Temper Boy then stomped to one of the empty cubicles and SLAMMED his backpack onto the floor.
I looked at Officer Awesome and he simply rolled his eyes at me. I rolled mine back.
At this point the dozen kids in there were Stone Cold Silent. Because this was truly the most dramatic entrance they'd ever seen. They all stopped working and all heads were turned to Temper Boy.
Temper Boy took his chair, which was on top of the desk in his cubicle, and SLAMMED it down on the floor, plopped into it and crossed his arms and glared at us.
I looked at Officer Awesome, who was still rolling his eyes at me and said, "I don't know about you, but I could do without the chair throwing." He nodded.
"I DID NOT THROW MY CHAIR!!!!" screamed Temper Boy.
"Yeah, whatever," I said. "You know the drill, empty out your backpack. If you have a cell phone turn it off and put it in the backpack so I can hang it in the closet."
"YOU ARE NOT TAKING MY BACKPACK!!!!" screamed Temper Boy.
"Fine. Knock yourself out," I said. "You are more then welcome to leave your backpack and all your belongings in the middle of the floor so anyone can reach in there and take what they want, rather than have it placed in a secure area. Your choice." I might add I was using a very calm voice and was speaking in a normal volume.
Temper Boy kicked his backpack and glared at no one in particular.
The other kids were still silent and staring at Temper Boy. Then all of a sudden one of the 8th graders said, almost under his breath but it was so quiet that we could all hear him, "Jeez, it's not THAT bad in here,"
I almost died. I wanted to laugh so badly that it was all I could do to tell the kids the show was over and get back to work.. Which they did because, quite honestly, they were a little bit afraid of Temper boy. They ignored him. I ignored him. He sat there glaring for twenty minutes until our timer went off for our restroom break where we headed into The Building. The other kids lined up at the door, waiting to go out. Temper Boy did not move.
I went over to him and laid it out in pretty simple terms. "Look these kids have been waiting for about an hour and a half to go to the bathroom, walk around a bit and get a drink. If you refuse to go, I have to stay in here with you and that means they don't get to go because there's no grown up to keep an eye on them. And they will all HATE you forever."
That did it. With a huge, dramatic sigh, he decided to join the line and head on in. And down the ramp we went, walking through the fluttering pieces of his write up blowing across the ramp and sidewalk.
And Just What the Heck is ISS Anyway?
I'm really grateful for the following comment from Lisa in Germany (Oh my gosh!)
"Dear Mrs Bluebird,
maybe this is only interesting to me because I'm not from the US, but how does your ISS system work? Who sends students for what and for how long and what do they have to do to go back? Is there a protocol for repeating offenders?"
"Dear Mrs Bluebird,
maybe this is only interesting to me because I'm not from the US, but how does your ISS system work? Who sends students for what and for how long and what do they have to do to go back? Is there a protocol for repeating offenders?"
Suffice it to say, how ISS works in my building may not be the same as any other building in my district, my state or even within the entire United States...so it's just one example. But I'l try to explain our system at The School.
About 5-6 years ago, we partnered with Vanderbilt University and devised something called School Wide Positive Behavior Support (SWPBS) which is a system that encourages kids to do the right thing. We had a lot of kids out of class because they were being suspended, and a lot of disruptive kids who made it nearly impossible to teach. We have a pretty challenging population. In any case, we pitched our old system of discipline referrals and implemented SWPBS. The cool thing was that it was developed specifically for our building and our population so it's tailor made. And it has really worked.
Kids start every nine week grading period with a clean slate. We have a behavior matrix that tells kids how to be Respectful, Responsible, and Engaged in all the areas of school - the bus, the hallway, the cafeteria, the gym, and especially in the classroom. Every year we teach the system to the kids, and we review it again every January. Kids who do the right thing get rewarded with a school currency which they can use in the school store, or put into a drawing for a price. (We've given away donated tickets to paintball as well as an NFL game so far this year). They also get a reward party at the end of the grading period.
As for the kids who don't behave. The teacher can issue a Classroom Intervention Referral for behaviors that are unacceptable. This also involves contact with a parent (that can be the challenging part since we get so many disconnected or bad phone numbers.) A copy of the CIR goes to Guidance, is input into a database system and every evening we get a report on how many CIR's a kid has earned in this grading period. If a kid does something and it will be his/her fourth CIR, that gets bumped up to Administrative Discipline Referral. And that means it goes to an Administrator. The Administrator calls the kid in for a session and they have the option (within guidelines from the School Board and District Code of Conduct) to hand out the consequences. It can be a counseling and warning session, a day or two of after school detention, or In School Suspension (which is me), or even suspension. Parent contact occurs in all these situations. (Or attempted parent contact. See my comment about bad phone numbers above.)
If a kid ends up in ISS with me, the stay can be anywhere from one to four days (or longer, we've just haven't had anyone past four days this year.) Most kids seem to land in my room for 2-3 days. ISS is, for some of them, the best study hall they'll ever have because it gives them a chance to get caught up on work (most kids in ISS also have academic issues) in a quiet place with help (from me or my aide). In order to get released they need to complete all their assignments and behave. It's actually pretty simple.
I have had my share of repeat offenders and some of them are about to find themselves in something we call BSA, or Behavior Support Academy. Coach Math handles this unit and whereas I'm sort of the School Momma type, he's the stern, disapproving School Dad type. It's a totally different experience. It's our version of alternative school; the kids wear a uniform of white shirt and tan pants, are isolated from the student population, do chores and cleanup around school (weed the flower beds, sweep the cafeteria, package and distribute donations for our food program, and more). They also get a counseling session every afternoon after lunch. (My kids eat lunch with this group and also get in on the counseling if the numbers aren't too big - the idea is to stop the behaviors that get them in ISS and BSA.) Kids are assigned to BSA for a 30 day period of time. Once they complete that time, they do an exit session, and then are released back to their regular classes under a 25 point contract. If they screw up and earn 25 discipline points, the next step is Alternative School run by the district downtown.
So that's where it stands at The School.
Kids start every nine week grading period with a clean slate. We have a behavior matrix that tells kids how to be Respectful, Responsible, and Engaged in all the areas of school - the bus, the hallway, the cafeteria, the gym, and especially in the classroom. Every year we teach the system to the kids, and we review it again every January. Kids who do the right thing get rewarded with a school currency which they can use in the school store, or put into a drawing for a price. (We've given away donated tickets to paintball as well as an NFL game so far this year). They also get a reward party at the end of the grading period.
As for the kids who don't behave. The teacher can issue a Classroom Intervention Referral for behaviors that are unacceptable. This also involves contact with a parent (that can be the challenging part since we get so many disconnected or bad phone numbers.) A copy of the CIR goes to Guidance, is input into a database system and every evening we get a report on how many CIR's a kid has earned in this grading period. If a kid does something and it will be his/her fourth CIR, that gets bumped up to Administrative Discipline Referral. And that means it goes to an Administrator. The Administrator calls the kid in for a session and they have the option (within guidelines from the School Board and District Code of Conduct) to hand out the consequences. It can be a counseling and warning session, a day or two of after school detention, or In School Suspension (which is me), or even suspension. Parent contact occurs in all these situations. (Or attempted parent contact. See my comment about bad phone numbers above.)
If a kid ends up in ISS with me, the stay can be anywhere from one to four days (or longer, we've just haven't had anyone past four days this year.) Most kids seem to land in my room for 2-3 days. ISS is, for some of them, the best study hall they'll ever have because it gives them a chance to get caught up on work (most kids in ISS also have academic issues) in a quiet place with help (from me or my aide). In order to get released they need to complete all their assignments and behave. It's actually pretty simple.
I have had my share of repeat offenders and some of them are about to find themselves in something we call BSA, or Behavior Support Academy. Coach Math handles this unit and whereas I'm sort of the School Momma type, he's the stern, disapproving School Dad type. It's a totally different experience. It's our version of alternative school; the kids wear a uniform of white shirt and tan pants, are isolated from the student population, do chores and cleanup around school (weed the flower beds, sweep the cafeteria, package and distribute donations for our food program, and more). They also get a counseling session every afternoon after lunch. (My kids eat lunch with this group and also get in on the counseling if the numbers aren't too big - the idea is to stop the behaviors that get them in ISS and BSA.) Kids are assigned to BSA for a 30 day period of time. Once they complete that time, they do an exit session, and then are released back to their regular classes under a 25 point contract. If they screw up and earn 25 discipline points, the next step is Alternative School run by the district downtown.
So that's where it stands at The School.
Saturday, September 12, 2015
How We Do Things
So one of you asked for pictures of my room and what my schedule is. I'm going to pass on pictures because Our Portable is due to be painted sometime in October when a local church group shows up (I used a Go Fund Me project to get money for the paint). I'll post pictures when it's all done. But basically it's an old portable. I've been at The School for 14 years and it's been there as long as I have been.
As for our schedule. Here is what a typical day looks like.
I usually go into the building and pick up any work in the ISS basket up in the front office at 6:45 because buses start unloading at 6:55 (yes, really). Kids get off the bus, swing by and pick up their breakfast if they want it, and then come out to Our Portable. They empty their backpacks (I label them and hang them in a closet), eat their breakfast and read or work on class work. After announcements and the Pledge of Allegiance at 7:20, we basically work on work that has been sent out by their teachers.
Often in the morning is when I am getting new kids processed in, or logging in assignments so it can be a bit busy. Our first break is at 8:45 when we go into the building to the 8th grade hallway and use the restrooms and water fountains. If I have a low number of kids, we'll walk to the front office and see if there's any more work in the basket, and then head out (I like to get the kids walking as it gives them, and me, a break). I sometimes swing by the library and have them check out a book. After that, back to Our Portable.
My aide usually arrives at 9:30 am and this is technically when I have planning. Basically that means I head back into the building, check the basket, check my mail, and do any printing and copying I may need to do. I also have an 8th grade student aide who comes in and uses ISS as a study hall but also runs errands if needed.
Our second bathroom break is at 10:45. At 11:30 another aide shows up and takes my kids and the in-house alternative school kids (we call that BSA for Behavior Support Academy) and I have lunch from 11:30 to noon. I usually go back in the building for my lunch (I pack) and eat with a few other related arts teachers, check the box, check my mail, etc. After lunch the kids usually go and have an hour counseling session with one of the guidance counselors (about good decisions, bad decisions, choices, etc.) I'm not with them at this time but back in Our Portable doing paperwork. Mainly checking to see if kids who are scheduled to be released have all their assignments completed to my satisfaction and perhaps getting paperwork on new kids who will be showing up the following day.
The kids usually get back around 1:00, my aide returns from her lunch duty, and we have another bathroom break at 1:30. By 1:50, we start releasing kids who will be leaving us and they head back into the building to their homerooms. The ones who are remaining continue to work, or we may have a One Minute Math drill or play with math flashcards (I'm all about improving their multiplication skills because they are dreadful). By 2:00 we start handing out backpacks and packing up for the day, clean the room, and listen to announcements. Bus riders are usually dismissed around 2:10, walkers and parent pick up walk with me to the front office for release around 2:30.
And that's it!
As for our schedule. Here is what a typical day looks like.
I usually go into the building and pick up any work in the ISS basket up in the front office at 6:45 because buses start unloading at 6:55 (yes, really). Kids get off the bus, swing by and pick up their breakfast if they want it, and then come out to Our Portable. They empty their backpacks (I label them and hang them in a closet), eat their breakfast and read or work on class work. After announcements and the Pledge of Allegiance at 7:20, we basically work on work that has been sent out by their teachers.
Often in the morning is when I am getting new kids processed in, or logging in assignments so it can be a bit busy. Our first break is at 8:45 when we go into the building to the 8th grade hallway and use the restrooms and water fountains. If I have a low number of kids, we'll walk to the front office and see if there's any more work in the basket, and then head out (I like to get the kids walking as it gives them, and me, a break). I sometimes swing by the library and have them check out a book. After that, back to Our Portable.
My aide usually arrives at 9:30 am and this is technically when I have planning. Basically that means I head back into the building, check the basket, check my mail, and do any printing and copying I may need to do. I also have an 8th grade student aide who comes in and uses ISS as a study hall but also runs errands if needed.
Our second bathroom break is at 10:45. At 11:30 another aide shows up and takes my kids and the in-house alternative school kids (we call that BSA for Behavior Support Academy) and I have lunch from 11:30 to noon. I usually go back in the building for my lunch (I pack) and eat with a few other related arts teachers, check the box, check my mail, etc. After lunch the kids usually go and have an hour counseling session with one of the guidance counselors (about good decisions, bad decisions, choices, etc.) I'm not with them at this time but back in Our Portable doing paperwork. Mainly checking to see if kids who are scheduled to be released have all their assignments completed to my satisfaction and perhaps getting paperwork on new kids who will be showing up the following day.
The kids usually get back around 1:00, my aide returns from her lunch duty, and we have another bathroom break at 1:30. By 1:50, we start releasing kids who will be leaving us and they head back into the building to their homerooms. The ones who are remaining continue to work, or we may have a One Minute Math drill or play with math flashcards (I'm all about improving their multiplication skills because they are dreadful). By 2:00 we start handing out backpacks and packing up for the day, clean the room, and listen to announcements. Bus riders are usually dismissed around 2:10, walkers and parent pick up walk with me to the front office for release around 2:30.
And that's it!
Wednesday, September 02, 2015
Maintenance, We Have a Problem, Part Two
In case you didn't read about it, I have a wasp problem around my portable.
My portable, which has been there since I first showed up at The School 14 years ago and I suspect was there long before then, has a wooden ramp that takes you up to the front door. We do have a back door, with steps, but it's pretty much for emergencies only.
And under my nice wooden ramp you will find wasp nests. So, every single time you walk on the ramp, the vibrations aggravate the wasps who then fly up to mess with whomever is walking up to my room.
This is not good.
I put in formal work requests beginning in late July, and another a few weeks ago, and then another last week.
Nothing much happened. Occasionally a custodian would come out, spray at a wasp or two, and that was it. It really didn't do much except aggravate the wasps even more. It was only a matter of time before someone, hopefully not me, got stung.
Well that happened yesterday. I had two girls get stung walking up the ramp. One got stung twice. And of course, what ensues was near hysteria on the part of my kids. (Yesterday was busy, we had eight customers.) They absolutely refused to walk down that ramp. No way, no how. They were not going near any stinging insect.
Part of me doesn't blame them. The other part of me, however, is constantly amazed at how freaked out kids, especially some of these boys, are over bugs. Honestly, the squealing, squirming and hysterical flapping does not help, but they can't seem to get over that. I'd hate to take most of these kids on a camping trip. Proof, once again, that kids don't spend enough time outside, dealing with nature.
But I digress.
In any case, Coach Cool, who is the guy who does most of the discipline issues (and is a good friend from way back) was walking down the hall when I brought the kids in for a restroom break (after much hysterics about walking down the ramp.) I basically unloaded on him about the stings and trips to the nurse, and how it needed to be taken care of NOW before someone with allergies got bit.
Five minutes later, the Lead Custodian is out there SATURATING the ramp with spray and informing me that yes, he'd crawled under the ramp and spotted the nests (FINALLY!) and he informed the Central Office Bug Get Rid of Guy (we have a guy who does nothing but kill bugs throughout the district...really) that he needed to get out here NOW and get rid of these wasps.
So today...was better. Only a few. Not near the cloud of wasps we used to get. But we'll see. I want to make sure none of them show up.
My portable, which has been there since I first showed up at The School 14 years ago and I suspect was there long before then, has a wooden ramp that takes you up to the front door. We do have a back door, with steps, but it's pretty much for emergencies only.
And under my nice wooden ramp you will find wasp nests. So, every single time you walk on the ramp, the vibrations aggravate the wasps who then fly up to mess with whomever is walking up to my room.
This is not good.
I put in formal work requests beginning in late July, and another a few weeks ago, and then another last week.
Nothing much happened. Occasionally a custodian would come out, spray at a wasp or two, and that was it. It really didn't do much except aggravate the wasps even more. It was only a matter of time before someone, hopefully not me, got stung.
Well that happened yesterday. I had two girls get stung walking up the ramp. One got stung twice. And of course, what ensues was near hysteria on the part of my kids. (Yesterday was busy, we had eight customers.) They absolutely refused to walk down that ramp. No way, no how. They were not going near any stinging insect.
Part of me doesn't blame them. The other part of me, however, is constantly amazed at how freaked out kids, especially some of these boys, are over bugs. Honestly, the squealing, squirming and hysterical flapping does not help, but they can't seem to get over that. I'd hate to take most of these kids on a camping trip. Proof, once again, that kids don't spend enough time outside, dealing with nature.
But I digress.
In any case, Coach Cool, who is the guy who does most of the discipline issues (and is a good friend from way back) was walking down the hall when I brought the kids in for a restroom break (after much hysterics about walking down the ramp.) I basically unloaded on him about the stings and trips to the nurse, and how it needed to be taken care of NOW before someone with allergies got bit.
Five minutes later, the Lead Custodian is out there SATURATING the ramp with spray and informing me that yes, he'd crawled under the ramp and spotted the nests (FINALLY!) and he informed the Central Office Bug Get Rid of Guy (we have a guy who does nothing but kill bugs throughout the district...really) that he needed to get out here NOW and get rid of these wasps.
So today...was better. Only a few. Not near the cloud of wasps we used to get. But we'll see. I want to make sure none of them show up.
Wednesday, August 26, 2015
My Fashion Sense
My mom has great fashion sense. She always looks so put together, so well done, so perfect. I did not inherit this ability. I pretty much stick to basics (I swear my wardrobe is so black, navy and white it's ridiculous). And honestly, if I could, I'd wear jeans or capris and sweatshirts forever.
So when I'm walking through the building today, in khakis, tennis shoes, and a pinkish-red top (really a glorified t-shirt with a lace neckline) and a teeny tiny (and I mean really little) sixth grader I have never seen before stops and says, "I really like that color on you," I was a little stunned.
"Oh really? Thank you," I said.
"You have fantastic fashion sense," she says, as she turns a corner.
I about died laughing. That was the last thing I ever expected to hear from a kid, especially a tiny little one who looks like her fashion sense might be from the movie Frozen.
Cracked me up.
So when I'm walking through the building today, in khakis, tennis shoes, and a pinkish-red top (really a glorified t-shirt with a lace neckline) and a teeny tiny (and I mean really little) sixth grader I have never seen before stops and says, "I really like that color on you," I was a little stunned.
"Oh really? Thank you," I said.
"You have fantastic fashion sense," she says, as she turns a corner.
I about died laughing. That was the last thing I ever expected to hear from a kid, especially a tiny little one who looks like her fashion sense might be from the movie Frozen.
Cracked me up.
There Won't Be Any Kids, They Said. It Will be Quiet, They Said
Before school started I was trying to get my ducks in a row and get my ISS room organized, my procedures down, schedules created, and so on. And when I asked the Enforcer to go over my proposed student schedule his comment was, "Yeah, I'll get to it. You won't have any kids for a couple of weeks anyway."
Yeah. Right.
Since Day One, when our little Dress Code Violator showed up...it's been steady. Granted, there are days there's only one kid in there, but now we're up to three and it's just going to keep growing from here.
So that schedule I wanted approved? I just went with it and did what I wanted. So far no one has complained so I'm going with it.
The Principal said, "take it and make it yours," so that's what I'm doing.
So there. If they don't like it, oh well.
Oh and Dress Code Violator? She's baaaaccckkk....
Friday, August 14, 2015
And Visitor Number One Is....
A seventh grade girl who didn't believe in dress codes. Or more to the point, it was her birthday, dammit, and she wanted to wear what she wanted to wear. Even though what she wore might have gotten her arrested if she was walking a street in the wrong part of town.
It was that bad.
And it was two hours into the first full day of school. So much for not getting anyone for at least a week.
Not a good impression to make on your teachers, kiddo.
It was that bad.
And it was two hours into the first full day of school. So much for not getting anyone for at least a week.
Not a good impression to make on your teachers, kiddo.
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