Digging the Denim

Happiness is carefully rationing out your casual day coupons so you have enough left to wear jeans for the rest of the school year.

Yeah!

For the uninitiated, at The School, The Principal requires that we dress professionally - henceforth, no jeans. However, on occasions we will have a "free" casual day as a reward (for example, the day after parent/teacher conferences). We have also figured out that selling casual day coupons to teachers (at $5 a pop) is a great fundraiser. These things are like gold.

And the best ones? They're the ones that an admin will randomly hand to you for doing things like always being in the hallway during class changes. Sort of a reward for doing your job right.

I love casual day coupons.

Howdy Ma'am

I get allergy shots every Wednesday afternoon. I actually don't mind it much. I go to the on-site clinic that is part of our health insurance program (for county and school district employees) located at the neighboring high school, get my shots, knit for twenty minutes, the nurse checks my arms and I'm off. No big deal. Sometimes I run into other teachers and folks I know, so that can be fun.

Or a bit weird.

I was sitting there yesterday, knitting away on a cardigan I'm making, when I sort of notice out of the corner of my eye a young man leave one of the examining rooms (they're busy with a lot of school sport physicals right now). I don't pay much attention until I hear, "Hey, Mrs. Bluebird."

I turned around and it's the young man, all six feet two inches of him, and his mom who I don't recognize. The kid looks familiar so I know he's one of mine but I can't for the life of me put a name to the face.

(As an aside, I have an awful time with the boys when they grow up - they looks SO DIFFERENT from when I have them in seventh grade.)

"Oh gosh, I know I know you but I can't put a name to your face," I tell him, a bit embarrassed.

His mom laughs. "Oh, he's changed a lot since seventh grade," she says.

"It's Goober Boy," he informs me.

Oh. My. God.

No Way! Goober boy was a long-haired, skater dude who had the motivation of a slug. Nice kid, but a goober. (He was one of my favorites out of a class of really unique individuals.)

What was standing before was, well, a cowboy. He had on the pointy-toed boots, skinny cowboy jeans, big huge western belt with a shiny buckle, a button down shirt, and was carrying a straw hat in his hand. With short hair!

I swear, I couldn't believe the difference in this kid!!! Talk about a 180 degree change. He actually sat down for about twenty minutes (Mom took off - Goober Boy is driving his own truck now) and chatted with me. We talked about some of his classmates, who's doing what, what he's up to (doing much better in school now) and what he's thinking of doing when he graduates. It was such a nice visit, and so surprising to see how different he was now that he's about five years older.

I never, in a million years, would have predicted this change! Cowboy, no less!

Home Sweet Home

I am, at last, home from camp.

Although I had a great time, saw some old friends, had a blast teaching little gifted kids (and making some money at the same time), I am delighted to get home. I missed hubster and the kitties and now it's wonderful to be back although I have a gi-normous pile of laundry to do, a garden to weed and work on, and we start school in less than three weeks.

Whew! Where did summer go?

Did I accomplish all I wanted? No, of course not. I never do.

Did I at least get some rest and recover from the Seventh Grade Class from Hell? I hope so. I just hope our eighth grade teachers got some rest as they will need it.

A few observations...

I am glad, glad, glad that hubster and I made the tough decision and relocated from Up North to Down South because I, at least, have a job. In fact, I will soon be entering my seventh year at The School, teaching in a building I love, with great co-workers and an awesome administration. Some of my friends who graduated with me in 2001 are still unemployed in the teaching profession, some are working as aides, and others are subbing every chance they get. There just are no openings. Many of them also have spouses who have either lost jobs or lost overtime, or took pay cuts so things are tight up there. The fact that they're taxed every time they turn around doesn't help.

When I first got my license, in 2001, Up North, I paid something around $65 to get it. Apparently the government needs money so the fees for licensing got raised a bit - to over $200. Amazing! I've never paid a penny for my license down here. In fact, when I first got mine, I actually called the state and asked where to send the check since the website didn't mention it. They laughed and said, "oh, you must be from up north." Gee, did it show?

It was a lot of fun hanging out with my friend Mrs. Cardinal and her husband and the four kids and the two dogs, the cat, the two parrots and the hamsters! Good thing they have a large house (and I had my own room). We did have a great time, had some cookouts, had a bunch of our pals from school over with all their kids, and generally enjoyed catching up.

Mrs. Cardinal, her oldest daughter, and I went and saw the new Harry Potter movie. Now I love the book series, I love the movies, and I was looking forward to this one. However. It's, well, grim. Really grim. (The book was as well.) I doubt I'd take a kid under the age of 12 to see it unless they are completely obsessed with the series and can handle the dark aspects of the story. And for anyone who hasn't read the books...don't bother. You won't get most of what's happening.

Well, now to work. The house, the cats, and the laundry are calling.

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.

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.

What a Little Bit of Relevance Will Do...

As I've mentioned before, our standards are changing next year. One of the grades getting worked over the most - SURPRISE! - is seventh grade science. We're losing about half our curriculum (matter and weather) to 6th and 8th grade, and we're inheriting new curriculum (DNA, genetics, geology, simple machines) from the 8th grade.

Peachy.

So, since the current 7th graders will get about nine weeks of matter - again - next year, and will miss DNA, genetics, geology, and simple machines, we're trying to cram some of this stuff in where we can so they don't hit high school without having been exposed to this stuff. (Of course they currently hit high school having forgotten nearly everything they learned in middle school so in some cases, it's a moot point.)

Since we're wrapping up the cell cycle, it was decided that this would be a good time to do a brief unit on DNA and genetics. Mrs. Eagle and Mrs. Duck have never taught this curriculum and it's been 8 years since I have, so we are, shall I say, a bit rusty.

Our book is void of any information on DNA outside of the fact that it's in a cell, so we've had to come up with ways to present this information to our kids. Fortunately, Mrs. Eagle and I went to a publisher's dog and pony show in December and got a whole bunch of free goodies that we're sort of test driving with this group of kids. (I'll be honest, I'm liking these materials.)

The past few days we've done Brainpops as introductions, and then moved on to some PowerPoints that we adapted from the sample materials. Since it's a lot of material to cover (and not much time due to benchmark testing - don't get me started) we are doing guided notes so the kids get the information down, and it's accurate.

I'll be honest. I love genetics. It's cool stuff. And it doesn't really get much more relevant for a kid than they realize how and why they ended up looking like they do, and how they go their nose from mom and their eye color from dad, and so on. It's neat. And you can talk about cool things like mutations (a good time to bring out the story of the Scottish Fold cats), and how diseases are passed on and just really cool stuff like careers and genetic engineering and, well, it's fun. Even if all you're doing is showing a PowerPoint and the kids are taking notes.

So here we are, the end of seventh period, and we've blasted through our notes and the bell has rung and two of my critters, Huggy Girl and Shy Boy come up to my desk.

"Shy Boy and I have decided that we'd rather stay in your class all day and learn about genetics than go to any of our other classes," said Huggy Girl. Shy Boy nods in agreement.

"Really?" I say. This is a surprise because these kids are not, not, not, A students - they're C, maybe, if they try, so this is something.

"Yeah, this was totally fun," says Huggy Girl. "We can't wait until tomorrow." More nods from Shy Boy.

Wow. I was stunned.

How often do you get a review like that?

The Best Gifts...Ever!

I'm always just flattered and tickled to death when a student of mine presents me with a Christmas card or even a gift. A lot of my students have families where there's more month than money so the fact that they spent anything, even a dollar for some bubble bath at the Dollar Store, really touches my heart. I love the homemade cards (complete with misspellings - I'm supposed to have a "happy and heathy Christmas" this year), and the drawings of stout reindeer and flying cats (figure that one out) make my day. Even the coffee mugs (and we teachers have more coffee mugs than a Starbucks, don't we?) are appreciated.

However, every once in a while you get a gift from a student that really lets you know that they thought about it, carefully selected it, and it was definitely a gift that was intended for you and no one else.

Freckled Boy gave me one such gift this year. I love this kid. He's in my homeroom, and sits right in front of my teacher station. He's always the first kid in every morning, and he's made it his mission to take all the chairs down every day while at the same time engaging me in some of the most interesting conversations. He asked me this morning if I'd be here for a few minutes after the students were dismissed. Apparently his mother was bringing a few presents for him to hand out and he wanted to make sure I'd get mine. I assured him I'd be here, and then promptly forgot about the conversation with the craziness that is the half day before break.

After the buses rolled and the other kids were dismissed, I was walking back to my room and he came up with a shoebox-sized box wrapped in holiday paper.

"Merry Christmas Mrs. B!" he said as he handed me my gift and dashed off to deliver another one to Mrs. Language. (I found out later that he gave her a stapler!)

I went back to my room and unwrapped my package. First, I had to take off the outside paper. Then unroll lots and lots of tissue paper. And finally got to an object about 10 inches long that was also wrapped in paper. A giant pencil? A pen? What on earth?

It was a screwdriver.

Now this may not sound like the best gift ever but you have to kind of understand the back story here. Earlier this year my handy little screwdriver (both flat head and phillips head) was stolen from my pencil cup. I loved this screwdriver and used it all the time. It tightened the screws on the hole punches so they stayed in place. It allowed me to disassemble the hand crank pencil sharpener to remove the broken pieces of colored pencil that got stuck inside. It let me fix chairs and tables which are slowly falling apart on a regular basis. There probably wasn't a day that went by that I didn't use that thing. And it was stolen and that really ticked me off. We had a rash of thefts that week, and that was just icing on the cake.

Freckled Boy was actually standing in front of me when I discovered the missing screwdriver and he'd seen how often I'd used it. So he got me a new one. Granted this one is a lot bigger (I definitely won't be working on pencil sharpeners with this one!) but the fact that he took the time to think about what I really needed and then went out and got it, really made my day.

I totally love the little curly ribbons he tied on the top. I kept them on it when I put it in my pencil cup. It's an awesome screwdriver!

Just when I didn't think it could get any better, my team came trotting around the corner with sneaky grins on their faces and a big silver bag with shiny paper sticking out of the top. What on earth???

Inside? A big huge bottle of Bailey's Irish Cream and two Bailey's glasses, and a great card thanking me for being a great team leader.

Ahhhhh. Made me want to cry. I've got a great, wonderful, fantastic team!

When Smaller is Better

As I've mentioned before, we have a somewhat legendary class of seventh graders this year. We've been hearing about them for the past few years, beginning with the elementary teachers who were thrilled to see them move to middle school. (Interestingly, it wasn't one group from one elementary school - all three of the schools that feed into our building had a wild group of kids.)

The sixth grade teachers last year were ecstatic when they moved on to the 7th grade. Cheering and dancing in the halls doesn't begin to describe the joy.

This year the seventh grade teachers are counting the days until the end of May.

This was, coincidentally, the same year that Mrs. Eagle, Mrs. Robin and I volunteered to teach an 8th grade health class (Mrs. Robin taught 6th grade health), with a different group of kids every nine weeks. The drawback to this was that we had to cram five classes of seventh graders into four classes in order to give us the open period to teach the health class.

Most likely with any other group of kids (like the wonderful group we had last year) this would have worked out fine. With this group it was a recipe for disaster. We had our proof when we took our first benchmark.

I had one kid proficient. ONE. Uno. That was it. Mrs. Eagle and Mrs. Robin fared a bit better, but overall we still had only eight kids proficient in the entire school. What makes this even worse is that in the past, we've always been tops in the county when it came to scores, and our kids have always done better than their peers, despite being a low-income building with a fairly unmotivated population.

This was completely unacceptable to us, so as soon as we saw our scores we asked The Principal to come to our data chat to figure out what was going on.

What was going on was that we were spending so much time on management issues that we had precious little left to actually teach science. Our rooms are oddly shaped and somewhat small and we had kids crammed in there with every seat filled (and then some). The kids, who had trouble getting along with each other on good days, were having real problems with each other when they were crowded into our rooms. Even The Principal commented on the different feeling our rooms had with about five to six extra kids compared to the other teachers.

So, The Principal drafted some wonderful souls (librarian and guidance counselor) to take over the health classes, and we got to move kids from each of our big classes, thereby lowering the numbers, into an fifth section of science. This started right before Thankgsiving. It gave us a chance to build a class and put kids in there that were a good mix, as well as giving us a chance to separate kids who had no business being in the same room together.

I can't believe the difference.

I told the kids right up front why were doing this ("Your benchmarks were unacceptable which tells me you aren't learning what you should be.") and told them that this was one idea we had to help solve the problem. Three kids actually came up and thanked me for moving them to the new class so they could actually learn something. How often does that happen? I was able to get some kids away from each other, and the entire class noticed. My homeroom had four boys in there who could be case studies for severe ADHD. Two of them are now in the other class and my homeroom is actually somewhat peaceful.

Now granted, these classes aren't perfect (Fifth Period still gives me hives) but it's a whole lot better. The kids even noticed. A lot of them were delighted, after a few days, when they realized they were getting a lot more individual attention from me (I can help them rather than spend all period telling them to sit down, stop throwing things, keep their hands to themselves, blah, blah, blah.) They commented on that. They commented on how faster the classes went now that we were actually able to do something because deal with idiot behaviors. They love the fact that they actually have more room at their seats. It's been a good move all around.

They've taken two tests since the change and the grades have been quite a bit better then previously. Our next benchmark isn't until January, but we're hoping we'll see an improvement there.

They were so good (except for - guess who?! - Fifth Period) that I actually tried a lab today.

And it actually worked!

What a Buck Will Buy

Fund raising is, unfortunately, a fact of life with our school. A lot of our funding got cut this last year, even our Title 1 funds, so we've been scrambling to figure out how to pay for things like, say, copies, incentives for the kids, and new materials.

One of our biggest fund raisers over the past few years has been our Fall Festival. Most of the schools around here have them, and they bring in a lot of money, even in our zone. They're kind of fun as they bring in the families, not just the students, so you see the parents and often times the siblings of the kids you currently teach. We also get a kids from the high school we feed into who come over to help run booths. They're mostly from the ROTC program and the Band and it's nice to see how some of our kids turned out after we've set them free from middle school.

So, Mrs. Eagle and I were wanting to come up with an easy fund-raiser for seventh grade science. We're in need of money to buy some materials to go with our new standards so we're submitting grants and doing whatever we can to get some money, realizing full well that it may take a few years before we get enough to do anything with it.

We've done hair painting int he past, but have grown bored with it. Besides, it costs money to buy the colored hair spray and you get tired of breathing in the fumes after a couple of hours. We let student council take over that booth this year. What we wanted was something that wasn't messy, that didn't cost hardly anything to do, and that appealed to the middle school mind. The middle school mind, after all, will spend money on some of the dumbest things.

We came up with the Pillow Fight booth.

All we needed were four pillows ($2.50 a piece at Walmart), some pillow cases ($1.00 a piece at Dollar General) and some football helmets (borrowed from a football coach). I had a timer, we made a sign, grabbed some chairs, roped off a ring with yarn and basically charged the kids a dollar each to beat each other with pillows for one minute.

We made over a hundred dollars.

Talk about an easy way to make money. The kids loved it, although some of them didn't think a minute was long enough until they actually did it. We probably should have sold bottled water to the combatants after they finished since most of them were panting and pretty worn out. It was pretty good entertainment, to be honest. Most of the boys just whomped away at each other, while the girls would start giggling so hard they could hardly swing a pillow. We had some sibling pairs duke it out, plus a few parents who let their kids beat at them with a pillow.

My favorite was an 8th grader who let his little brother, who may have been all of four, beat at him with a pillow. The little guy was going wap-wap-wap-wap with the pillow and every once in a while his older brother would tap him on the head with his pillow. Not often you see a kid that age being that nice to a little sibling. The little guy was beaming when he finished.

Gotta love it when you score a hit with the kids, and make money to boot!

A Teacher's Best Investment

I am not a big fan of shopping. At all. My mother will be the first to tell you that taking me shopping is not a really pleasant experience. I tend to get bored and cranky very quickly. I hate trying on clothes. Hanging out at a mall is not something I do. In fact, about the only place I enjoy shopping are bookstores and places like Home Depot or Lowes and hardware stores.

I guess I inherited my grandmother's practical side. She raised three kids during the Great Depression and the Dustbowl in Kansas and that woman brought frugality to an art. She also taught me to knit, but that's another story for another day.

In any case, one thing I have learned is that although I may buy my clothes at Good Will I will spend big money on shoes. (Good Will is the place to shop if you're in the weight loss mode and need clothes but aren't where you want to be size-wise yet. Why spend money when they hopefully won't fit in a few more pounds?)

One of the biggest revelations I had when I started teaching was that you are on your feet nearly all day long. I had moved from the corporate world where I sat all day long at a keyboard or in meetings, and all of a sudden I was on my feet constantly. From the looks of the footwear I've seen on the various education majors that have observed in my room, no one has told these kids about the standing on your feet all day thing either. It rapidly occurred on me that if I was going to be standing all day long, I was going to have to spend money on really good shoes.

Because when it comes to shoes, you get what you pay for. You buy cheap shoes and your feet will hurt all day long. If your feet hurt all day you will have a very bad day and the kids will seem even worse than they are. Your back hurts, you're cranky, and your spouse starts walking on eggshells. Spend some money and not only will your shoes be more comfortable, but they'll last longer and people will fear you less. Although I spend a lot of money on shoes, I don't do it very often. I take care of the ones I have and I don't have a lot of variety in styles. Truth be told, when it comes to school I have three pairs of Birkies (brown, black and blue), plus a pair of Noat sandals (brown).

For those of you who have never heard of Noat shoes, they are heaven. They are made in Israel and are some of the most comfortable shoes I have ever worn in my life. Fortunately I live where you can wear sandals nearly eight months out of the year and I wear these things a lot.

But I really needed a black sandal.

So, since I needed to go to the Big City Mall to pick up my replacement iPod, (another long story) I asked Mrs. Eagle if she'd like to go with me and we'd check out some shoes and do lunch. Like me, Mrs. Eagle knows the value of good shoes, and unlike me, she has to wear inserts (due to her 20 years in Army boots she says). Good shoes are really, really important to her.

We ended up at this store I discovered, The Walking Company, and had a great time. I love a nice, knowledgable sales rep who isn't pushy but who really works to find you the most comfortable shoe for your particular feet. Mrs. Eagle and I both ended up buying the same pair of shoes, some black Dansko sandals, and Mrs. Eagle even added in a pair of inserts which she said were more comfortable than the ones her doctor prescribed for her. We spent some money but we got a wonderful, quality product. (I have heard great things about Danskos from some friends who wear nothing else - I can see why.)

The fact that we bought the same shoes will surprise no one at The School. They already call us The Twins.

We are now ready to stand for hours on tile floors with our feet comfy and our smiles intact.

My most important advice for a new teacher? Buy really, really, really good shoes.

When They Surprise You

The first group of seventh graders that I taught at The School will be seniors in high school this next year. I promised myself that when they started to graduate, I'd be going to graduations, just to see these kids get their diplomas. They were a pretty memorable group, both in good ways and in bad ways and in sad ways.

Talky Girl had a baby her sophmore year, but amazingly enough, she's still on the honor roll, the flag team and is going to make it to college. Another, Phillip, died in a drowning accident two years ago and I still think of him when I drive over the bridge near where he drowned. His sister was in Mrs. Eagle's class this year and looked so much like him that it would sometimes nearly startle me when I'd see her. I miss him still. Another, apparently, will be spending his senior year behind bars in a youth detention facility.

And then there's Motormouth Boy.

Motormouth Boy was a skinny kid with big glasses who could not, for the life of him, shut up. He came to us in late fall from a local private church school. His parents had decided that their children needed more exposure to the real world, and they'd heard good things about The School, so they enrolled them. After a week with Motormouth Boy I was wondering if maybe he hadn't been asked to leave the previous school. This kid had something to say about everything and anything. He'd talk to a wall, given the opportunity. He still holds the record for the fastest return to isolation island of any student I've ever had. I'd had him in an isolation seat, he'd been good, did his work, and earned his way out. It lasted under five minutes. He spent a lot of time in trouble and knew Mrs. Squirrel quite well as she tended to end up with his referrals. He was a regular in ISS.

I had his sister two years later. I didn't realize that she was his sister for two months (very common last name). She was one of the hardest working children I've ever seen, very quiet, very studious, and would beam when you gave her a compliment. She mentioned to me one day that I'd had her brother, Motormouth, and I about fell over. I couldn't believe that this quiet, well-mannered child was related to Motormouth, and chalked it up to the fact that she couldn't get a word in edge-wise.

This past May we had the traditional 8th grade dance which I always volunteer to work at since I get a kick seeing all the good kids dressed up and trying to act to sophisticated. It's a real big deal to them, and a lot of times parents tag along for a little bit to get photos and to see how nice everyone looks. Motormouth's sister was there, looking lovely, and her parents were there as well as a very nice looking young man.

"Mrs. Bluebird, I bet you don't remember me," the young man said.

I didn't recognize him, but I knew that voice! It was Motormouth!

"Oh my gosh!" I said. "Look at you!" Motormouth was no longer the gawky, geeky, dweeby, seventh grader. He had matured into a very well mannered, well-dressed, attractive young man.

His Dad piped up, "He's on the honor roll now! Can you believe it! After all the trouble we had in middle school?"

Motormouth looked embarrassed. "Yeah, I'm doing a lot better. Had to grow up, I guess."

We had a nice long chat. Motormouth is going to maintain his grades and is planning on doing something with computers in the Air Force. His Dad is a Marine (as there is no such thing as "was" a Marine), and he credits having his father as a strong role model to help him get over the middle school bump. His parents were positively beaming.

It's so gratifying to run into your former students and hear how they've managed to grow up. I honestly worry about quite a few of them, wondering if they'll make it in this world. Motormouth was one of them. However, with strong family support (he does, after all, have his Dad there to help him and many of my students don't), he did okay.

I'm so proud of him.

Storm Surge!

Every teacher knows that one of the hardest times to live through (and maintain some semblance of sanity) is that period of time in between The Very Big Deal Government Mandated Tests and the Very Last Day of School. The kids have shut down. They are done, done, done! It doesn't matter that there are still a few weeks to go, a final chance to bring up that grade point average, and grades being taken. They. Just. Don't. Care.

So here's the dilemma. How to keep these hormonal seventh graders busy and occupied and actually learning something?

Mrs. Eagle and I have pondered this on and off all year. We had four weeks to keep them busy, and we wanted something that wouldn't drive us completely over the bend. We did have one final (non-tested) standard to teach - severe weather, so we knew we'd do something with that. And thank our lucky stars we found something in one of the NSTA publications we get (that membership is worth its weight in gold), modified it to fit our situation and came up with the Natural Disaster Construction Assignment.

This was a group project, and that in itself created a lot of entertainment. We have our kids work in groups all year but this was the one time they got to chose their groups. The natural tendency of seventh graders is to want to work with their friends - even if their friends are a bunch of brain-dead slackers who won't lift a finger to help. When they realized that part of this assignment involved grading each other, some of them reevaluated who they wanted to work with. Others decided half way through that they wanted to fire their teammates and change teams because the teammates weren't doing their share. I heard more complaining and whining about people not doing their jobs than I'd heard the entire year prior. It was, in short, a real learning experience in working with (and getting along with) others.

The goal of this project, besides learning to work with others and to meet deadlines, was to research the most common natural disasters in the U.S., and to build a prototype city that could withstand these. We showed a few videos on hurricanes and tornadoes that had a lot of information on building construction, safe houses, and warning systems. The students also had to write an evacuation plan for their city as well, which was a real struggle for some of them. Thank goodness much of this research could be done quite easily on line as our library was in the process of shutting down for the year.

But the most fun was actually building the city.

They had to supply all the materials, and were to turn in a design plan which had to be approved before they could begin construction. In short, if they hit the assignment deadlines, they would have plenty of time to build. If they didn't, they spent the rest of their time playing catch up. They didn't particularly like the deadlines - this is a group, after all, that isn't real big on turning in assignments on time, and still freaks out when they don't get credit for late work (apparently they do in elementary school). However, as I explained to them, in the Real World, when you hae a job, you need to meet deadlines.

Some of them have decided that the Real World, in their words, "sucks".

Yeah, well, welcome to it.

The models themselves ranged all over the map - we had domed buildings, buildings that were shaped like pyramids so the wind would blow up and over them, models with storm walls, cities with extensive basement shelters, and more. It was awesome hearing the kids discuss (and argue) the various merits of the ideas they were tossing out. Kids talking science...gotta love it.

In any case, we had set aside time to test our models on Tuesday and Wednesday of this past week. We were going use some box fans to blow wind at the models, then a watering can with water, and last, but not least, a bucket of water to simulate storm surge. Mr. Enforcer got wind of our project and arranged for maintenance to bring us one of Those Really Big Fans that they use when carpets flood to help dry them off - the kind of fan that can knock a kid off his feet, given the opportunity. We were also going to throw pennies at the model to simulate flying debris, but someone else was using the goggles from the science lab, so we bagged that idea.

Mrs. Eagle's classroom has a back door that opens to a grassy area, with a drainage ditch behind it. It slopes, so it was the perfect spot to use to test our models. She also has sinks with water in her room (I don't) so we had a ready source of water. We got an extension cord, hooked up the Really Big Fan, had the watering can filled, a couple of buckets filled, and were ready to go.

The kids could hardly stand it.

We put the first model on the ground in front of the fan. The kids were lined up along each side, all eyes on the model. We started the fan on low speed.

The model didn't move.

We moved to high speed.

The buildings on the model began to bend a bit in the wind. A toy car went flying.

We began pouring water out of the watering can which blew against the model like a driving rain.

Some of the buildings began to sway a bit more and the streets begin to flood.

After the watering can was emptied came the bucket of water.

"Storm Surge!" they all yelled, and we threw the bucket of water onto the model.

A few buildings toppled. More cars went flying. Trees bent and buckled under the weight of the wind and water.

The kids SCREAMED.

But...amazingly...a few buildings were still standing!

The kids screamed some more, and then we did the next model. And the next. And the next. And we all had a fantastic time.

Nothing like a bit of water, sun, and destruction to make a seventh grader's day!

The best part was, later in the post-destruction class discussion, they actually discussed what worked and what wouldn't. Despite having to deal with teammates that were slugs, having to meet deadlines, having to write an evacuation plan, and all the real work that went into this project, they actually learned something.

And they all said it was the most fun they'd had in a long time.

Forget the Apple, Give Me a Box of Tissues!

My recent post on the gift of pencils I received prompted quite a few comments...so...since it's Spring Break and I don't have any nutty stories to share (after all, how exciting is it to read about me cleaning house and doing yardwork?) let's get some audience participation action going.

In the comments section , describe the best gift you ever received from a student OR, the best thing someone could give you as a teacher. For example, I always love it when a kid shows up with a box of tissues for the class. Talk about useful!

Your turn!

Good News, Bad News

I had to be out of the building on Friday, along with The Principal, the Guidance Goober, Mrs. Eagle, Mrs. Bunny, and Mrs. Art, and a few others on the middle school reform team. We had to do one of our meetings downtown, with the other middle school teams, to see how we were implementing some of our new strategies to help our at-risk population.

Mrs. Eagle and I didn't really want to let our homework sit there over the weekend - we both like to get it graded and back as soon as we can - so we went back to The Building late that afternoon to pick it up and see what comments our substitutes had left us.

My note said, "You have the most wonderful classes. They were all well mannered and well-behaved. It was a joy to teach them."

Delightful! Perhaps my "Don't embarrass yourself, me, or your school by acting badly" lecture worked.

The bad news was, as I've gone through the homework this weekend, a lot of them didn't turn it in. This tends to happen when I have a substitute on homework turn in days. I don't know what it is that causes them to forget to turn in homework on the days I'm not there. We do it every single Friday. However, part of me suspects it's because I'm not there reminding them every 8 seconds that they need to turn in their homework. Who knows?

But the note did make my day.

Birthday Girl

Mr. T, my student teacher, is still here so I'm spending the bulk of my time either in guidance or in the speech therapists office (she's not here all the time), acting like an administrator. Between Mr. Enforcer and I, we're able to keep on top of the discipline referrals and keep things running a bit more smoothly than they were when everything went nuts before Thanksgiving.

I was walking to Guidance to drop off a file on the Guidance Goddess' desk when I got invited to a birthday party for Mamma's Girl, a little sixth grader we have in the building. At the party were all of Mamma's Girl's sixth grade teachers, The Principal, the entire Guidance department, and the honored sixth grader. On the table was a big cake with gobs of frosting, just the thing we all need at 7:45 in the morning.

It was Mamma's Girl's twelfth birthday. I mentioned Mamma's Girl in a previous post on the Military Support Group, a club we have at school for kids who have deployed parents. She was the little girl who was beaming because she managed to forget - for five whole minutes - that her mom was in Iraq. Well, with her mother in Iraq, no father in the picture, and staying with a family friend, this wasn't looking to get a great birthday for Mamma's Girl. Her teachers have been doing a great job in looking out for her, but it's still been a rough transition for her. Nothing like moving to middle school - tough for even the most secure kid - but to have to deal with the stresses our military kids deal is just an added burden.

So, her teachers, and guidance, decided to throw her a party. Because, after all, every twelve year old needs a cake with frosting, and just a minute in the spotlight. The look on her face was priceless and she just smiled from ear to ear. If we gave her just five more minutes free from worry and missing her mom, that was truly a wonderful gift.

It's times like these, the ones that don't make the headlines and never get reported, that I wish all the critics could see.

A Very Quiet Surprise

The worst part about having a student teacher in the room is that I miss my kids. I'm not there every period to find out what's going on with their lives, to listen to them chatter, to just be there and enjoy the silliness (and oftentimes frustration) that comes with your average seventh grader.

I am getting a bit of a kid fix by working the discipline referrals. Often times these kids just want someone to listen to their side of the story (which is sometimes highly amusing and creative). The fact that they have your undivided attention is not lost on these kids. The sixth graders, in particular, will spill their guts and go on and on and on their lives, inside and outside of school. The counseling part I truly enjoy. Sadly, there are some teachers in The Building who aren't particularly patient and who write referrals for things that I'd never even consider writing a referral for, so a lot of what I've done is counsel and warn the kids not to do it again. (I'm sure I'm going to hear about it too, but hey, In School Suspension is full and detention isn't far behind..what's a girl to do? Toss them under a bus?)

Yesterday, our "Friday" since we have the rest of the week off for the Thanksgiving Holiday, I was out in the hallway by my room when they dismissed kids for the buses. Truth be told, I kind of just wanted to wish a lot of them a nice few days off from school.

I was standing there when Studious Girl walked up to me and give me a big hug and put her head on my shoulder. This surprised me a great deal because Studious Girl has maybe said all of a dozen words all year and is one of the most silent kids I've ever known. She's in my homeroom, and although she's a pretty good student, it's because she works so hard at it. She doesn't talk - to anyone - and if she has any friends, I couldn't tell you who they are. I always make a point of trying to draw her out in the mornings when she comes into homeroom, by asking her how her morning is, but the most I usually get is a smile.

And today I got a hug.

"What's this for?" I asked her, although I suspected I knew. A lot of my kids have been whining about "when are you coming back?". They like Mr. T, but they want "School Mom" back in the room.

Studious Girl just looked up at me and smiled.

"Is it because you miss me?" I asked her and she nodded her head and smiled again.

"Well I miss you too," I told her, "and I'll be back soon."

She beamed, hugged me again, grabbed her bookbag and headed for the buses.

Wow. Not a word, but volumes were in that smile and her big brown eyes.

Good Lord, I'm thankful for kids like her. It makes it worth it.

Flying Solo

Mr. T, my student teacher, is flying solo this week.

Which means I'm just about bored out of my mind.

He's doing fine. His content knowledge is excellent. He has good rapport with the kids. He listens well and takes advice to heart. He acknowledges that he has issues with planning and organization but he's already improved in that area. He's also learning that a 45 minute period flies by faster than lightning.

I turned him lose yesterday, although I was in the room most of the day - just in case - but today, after first period, I left him alone. He did pretty well. He did say that 5th period was a bit noisy and ill-mannered (and amazingly enough, I guessed which table was the culprit), so he's going to move some seats and write some behavior notes tomorrow. He's very good at getting the kids quiet for the most part, and commands respect.

The hardest thing for me is finding something to do while I'm exiled, so to speak, from my room. I spent time today in guidance getting some paperwork done for some new kids I need to s-team, plus some follow-ups. I read my new issue of Science Scope, graded some papers, and stayed awake. I'm going to spend tomorrow and possibly Friday cleaning up and organizing our science lab, and writing a page for the teacher handbook on how to use the lab. Nothing elaborate, just simple things like making sure you clean up after yourself. (That's another rant for another time). Guidance asked if I could help administer some skills inventory tests next week to the eighth graders. I've also brought some reading along and, tucked into my bag, some knitting. I may work on a Wiki we have here on our school site, and maybe work on a grant to get some new books for our science library and maybe some iPods for a podcasting idea Mrs. Eagle and I are tossing around.

But I do miss seeing the kids every day. So I tend to be in the hallway when classes switch, because I need my fix. I need to know how they're doing, if things are going okay, if they're having a good day or a bad day, or if they just need a smile.

I guess I'm too much of a mother hen at times.

Ah, The Novelty of It All

During third period this morning I was going over the study guide for our upcoming test when a hand goes up. It's Waif Boy, one of the tinier kids on my team. (We seem to have cornered the market on twelve-year-olds that look like they are eight.)

"Mrs Bluebird," he asks after I call on him, "Is it raining?"

I listen for a moment and realize that yes, Waif Boy is right. "It sure sounds like it," I say and continue on with the study guide review.

We do a few more questions and I realize that the kids aren't really paying attention. They're too busy listening to the rain. It's a sound we haven't heard for a good long while, as evidenced by the extreme drought we've had since winter. In fact, we're well below half the normal rainfall for the year. Since my room is windowless, the kids couldn't see the rain, but they were turning their heads towards the back door where the sound was coming from.

"Okay," I say. "Let's stop for a minute. We can't go outside right now, but I'm going to open the back door so we can see the rain for a bit." I walk over and push the door open to a heavy gray sky, a steady rain, and water rushing off the roof of The School.

The kids all lean towards the door and let out a collective, "Ooooooohhhhhhhhhhhh."

I couldn't agree more.

Excuse Me While I Catch My Breath...

We've had a huge change at The School this year with an implementation of a new schedule.

There were several reasons behind the change. To start with, the State has implemented a requirement that all middle school students receive 90 minutes of physical activity a week. This means that more kids need to be taking gym, but at the same time we didn't want them to lose out on their arts, computers, and other classes that are necessary as well. In addition, those of us who've slogged it out trying to do the GPA (Greater Potential for Achievement) binders without time dedicated to it were really hoping we'd get a modified study hall or advisory so we could work with the kids on their binders, study skills and what not. Trust me, if you don't work daily with middle school kids on organizational skills, they just aren't going to get organized.

So The Principal, Guidance Goober, and a few others went to a conference on scheduling and came up with a really kick-butt schedule. We moved from six periods a day to seven, with no split lunch, and 25 minutes of organizational and skills training. We also ended up with a personal planning time and a team/department planning time every day.

Split lunch, by the way, was this creation from the depths of hell where you taught about 20-25 minutes of your fourth period class, then went to lunch, only to have them return to finish up the remaining 30 minutes or so of class. This meant labs were interrupted, tests were interrupted, and you lost time just getting the little ninnies back on track. We despised it.

In order to accomplish this seven period schedule, we went from a 55 minute class period down to a 45 minute class period. This means that Mrs. Eagle, Mrs. Robin and I, when we have our meeting every Thursday to do our plans - yes, we finally have actual time blocked out and set aside to collaborate! - are sitting there asking each other, "so, how are we going to cut out ten minutes every day?" We're cutting out some things (no more journals, we're adding writing into our tests and no more day long test reviews which didn't help anyway), and speeding up other things. The end result is that so far, we feel like we're on warp speed getting through the day. Amazingly enough, after three weeks we haven't slipped too far off the pacing guide, so I guess we're getting it done.

Honestly, I love this schedule...I just wished it allowed me time to breathe!