The chickadees rolled back in today. It was pretty typical. They were excited and gabby - after all they hadn't seen each other for two whole weeks - and about six of them couldn't remember their locker combinations. Nothing out of the ordinary with that chain of events.
However.
Am I the only one who is astounded - just astounded - that you can actually notice a growth spurt in a kid in a two week time period???
Honestly, Pinball Boy is now my height! He wasn't my height on the last day of school before break, but today I could stand there and look him in the eye. It freaked me out so bad, I called Mrs. Social Studies over (she, like me, is not exactly tall).
"Is it me, or has Pinball Boy grown?" I asked her as Pinball Boy stood there and giggled and smiled, loving the attention.
She looked him up and down, and her eyes widened. "Oh my gosh, he is taller! What on earth did your momma feed you during break!?"
Pinball grinned and giggled some more and said she fed him lots of good stuff.
Well, it's working. That kid took a leap in height, and he wasn't the only one. Another of my homeroom kids, who was a frail tiny thing two weeks ago, had to have added on an inch, as well as some weight, during break. Amazing.
Of course I added to my frame as well, but it was all in my butt and my stomach. Such is life. It's back to Weight Watchers and the gym.
Showing posts with label Middler Schoolers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Middler Schoolers. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 06, 2009
Monday, November 10, 2008
I Should Have Worn a Disguise
My first teaching job was in a town of 9,000. This was back when I did the Big Deal Career Change and went back to school to become a teacher. I had a previous degree (B.S. in Business Management) and a pulse so I was hired by one of my professors, who also happened to be Superintendent of Schools, to work as a permanent substitute teacher when I wasn't in class.
I did this for three years and probably learned more about being a teacher by subbing than I ever did in a college classroom.
I also learned that with the job comes a certain lack of privacy, especially when you've probably been in every classroom in a small district and everyone under the age of 18 knows who you are. It got to the point that The Hubster and I would head east about 10 miles to the first town that wasn't in our district to do our shopping and eating out. We didn't have any privacy in the town we lived in - everyone knew what everyone did, where they ate, what they bought, who they spent time with. You couldn't work in the yard in your grubbies with your hair up on top of your head and dirt all over your face without having a visit from at least one student or parent in the neighborhood.
So, when I moved South (being an economic refugee from Up North, the Land of Taxes and No Jobs), one of the things I made certain of was that I didn't live in the same zone I taught in. I didn't want a long commute, but I also didn't want the lack of privacy I had before. Most of the time it works pretty well. I do run into kids at The Mall, and often at the Walmart near The School, but for the most part I live my life in relative obscurity which is how we like it.
And then I lost my mind this past Sunday and wanted to save some time and ended up shopping in The Zone.
Actually, my church is in The Zone, but it's a small country church and I never see students there, just the regular church goers and Mrs. Eagle and her family. So this past Sunday, after services and a quick trip to the gym, I realized I needed to get gas and go to the market. Now my usual grocery store is on the opposite side of town from where I was. It's not even that close to where I live, but I live in a part of town that's fairly new in terms of development so we don't have any markets near us. We got lucky and finally got a pizza joint this past year. We got a Walgreens a few months ago and people were ecstatic because they actually have some food items there and you don't have to drive twenty minutes to the closest market when all you need is some milk.
For a moment or two, I toyed with the idea of just going to my regular market. However, that would probably take an extra half hour and I was right near a Kroger, and one with gas pumps, and I could kill two birds with one stone so to speak. And after all, what are the chances of running into a student? It's Sunday morning, everyone is either at church, or breakfast, or somewhere else.
So, I did what I never do, and that's shop at the market in The Zone.
And ran into three students.
The parents are tickled to see me. One of the boys wasn't (he should be embarrased by the progress report that went out on Friday) but his mother made sure to come up and say hi and comment on how he should be embarrassed by his progress report. Hey, I was happy she actually saw it since many kids like to pretend they don't exist and don't show it to their folks. The other two students, both girls, giggled and smiled and commented on the fact that I was - gasp! - shopping.
Just like normal people do. Hell, I even use coupons because I'm on a budget like everyone else.
I think they believe we sleep under our desks.
It wasn't that bad, actually, although I know I'll have about a dozen kids come up to me tomorrow and comment on the fact that they heard I was at the Kroger store nearby. It could have been worse. I could have been buying liquor!
I did this for three years and probably learned more about being a teacher by subbing than I ever did in a college classroom.
I also learned that with the job comes a certain lack of privacy, especially when you've probably been in every classroom in a small district and everyone under the age of 18 knows who you are. It got to the point that The Hubster and I would head east about 10 miles to the first town that wasn't in our district to do our shopping and eating out. We didn't have any privacy in the town we lived in - everyone knew what everyone did, where they ate, what they bought, who they spent time with. You couldn't work in the yard in your grubbies with your hair up on top of your head and dirt all over your face without having a visit from at least one student or parent in the neighborhood.
So, when I moved South (being an economic refugee from Up North, the Land of Taxes and No Jobs), one of the things I made certain of was that I didn't live in the same zone I taught in. I didn't want a long commute, but I also didn't want the lack of privacy I had before. Most of the time it works pretty well. I do run into kids at The Mall, and often at the Walmart near The School, but for the most part I live my life in relative obscurity which is how we like it.
And then I lost my mind this past Sunday and wanted to save some time and ended up shopping in The Zone.
Actually, my church is in The Zone, but it's a small country church and I never see students there, just the regular church goers and Mrs. Eagle and her family. So this past Sunday, after services and a quick trip to the gym, I realized I needed to get gas and go to the market. Now my usual grocery store is on the opposite side of town from where I was. It's not even that close to where I live, but I live in a part of town that's fairly new in terms of development so we don't have any markets near us. We got lucky and finally got a pizza joint this past year. We got a Walgreens a few months ago and people were ecstatic because they actually have some food items there and you don't have to drive twenty minutes to the closest market when all you need is some milk.
For a moment or two, I toyed with the idea of just going to my regular market. However, that would probably take an extra half hour and I was right near a Kroger, and one with gas pumps, and I could kill two birds with one stone so to speak. And after all, what are the chances of running into a student? It's Sunday morning, everyone is either at church, or breakfast, or somewhere else.
So, I did what I never do, and that's shop at the market in The Zone.
And ran into three students.
The parents are tickled to see me. One of the boys wasn't (he should be embarrased by the progress report that went out on Friday) but his mother made sure to come up and say hi and comment on how he should be embarrassed by his progress report. Hey, I was happy she actually saw it since many kids like to pretend they don't exist and don't show it to their folks. The other two students, both girls, giggled and smiled and commented on the fact that I was - gasp! - shopping.
Just like normal people do. Hell, I even use coupons because I'm on a budget like everyone else.
I think they believe we sleep under our desks.
It wasn't that bad, actually, although I know I'll have about a dozen kids come up to me tomorrow and comment on the fact that they heard I was at the Kroger store nearby. It could have been worse. I could have been buying liquor!
Sunday, November 02, 2008
The Tale of C-Boy
We have just finished two weeks of benchmark testing. We had Math, Reading and Language Arts one week, and then finished up with Social Studies and Science this week. The results were beyond disappointing. I know we make these tests hard, on purpose, but we've never had a seventh grade test so low.
And I mean really, really low. We have our datachat this next week, so we'll see what kind of interesting ideas come out of it.
In any case, the kids hate benchmarks, don't see the point in them, and frankly could give a rip. We keep telling them that these scores become part of their record and that any teacher in the future could pull them up and see what they've done, but that doesn't make much of an impression. After all, for these kids, the future is lunchtime.
We had one fellow in my homeroom, who's really quite bright but working on being a completely clueless knucklehead because "It's cool!", who got a bit carried away with being lazy and instead of reading and taking his tests, decided to code all the answers with the letter C. He then proceeded to tell all his classmates who promptly dimed him out and told us. Of course, by then, he'd already taken three tests.
When Mrs. Social Studies saw that he had bubbled in all C's on his test, she went nuts. She yanked him out into the hall and gave him a piece of her mind. The Principal found out and gave him a piece of her mind as well. And, for good measure, Mrs. Squirrel, one of our AP's, did the same. And then it was decided that he'd end up taking his tests again. (We caught him at this by the time the Science test rolled around - Mrs. Squirrel came into my room and gave him a good long stare that dropped them temperature in the room about 30 degrees and scared not only C-Boy, but everyone else in the room as well.)
So, C-Boy, who thought he was being clever, ended up having to miss some of his elective classes and make up the tests again. He was not happy. The other kids all found out and got the message that it probably wouldn't be a good idea to goober up on a benchmark.
On Thursday, we're doing our review for our unit test, which is a PowerPoint with sample test questions, followed by the answers so the kids get immediate feedback and we can discuss the question. I always warn the little goobers that memorizing the letters and the order of the answers is pointless because I scramble them and they aren't in the same order as the test. This is met with a groan of dissapointment from those who were looking for an easy way out. However, the kids tend to like this review and it helps them see where they need to focus.
Anyway...we do a test question, and the multiple choice answer happens to be the one that goes with the letter "C".
Red-Headed Boy in the back raises his hand and when I call on him says, "Hey, I bet C-Boy got that one right!" and the class all cracks up, even C-Boy.
However.
Every single time we get an answer with the letter "C", the kids start making snarky comments about C-Boy. He's pretty amused with the attention the first few times, but as the class period winds down, and his classmates keep teasing him, he's starts to get a bit disgruntled. By the time the period was over, he was pretty fed up with the teasing. He didn't say anything smart back (which was actually one of the smartest things he's done in a while), but definitely wasn't laughing.
The funny thing is, we, as teachers, could go on and on with this kid about what a stupid stunt he pulled on his benchmarks, and it would go in one ear and out the other. However, once his peers start picking on him about it, it hits home.
Bet he doesn't do that again. But you can also bet that I'm checking his answer sheets carefully.
And I mean really, really low. We have our datachat this next week, so we'll see what kind of interesting ideas come out of it.
In any case, the kids hate benchmarks, don't see the point in them, and frankly could give a rip. We keep telling them that these scores become part of their record and that any teacher in the future could pull them up and see what they've done, but that doesn't make much of an impression. After all, for these kids, the future is lunchtime.
We had one fellow in my homeroom, who's really quite bright but working on being a completely clueless knucklehead because "It's cool!", who got a bit carried away with being lazy and instead of reading and taking his tests, decided to code all the answers with the letter C. He then proceeded to tell all his classmates who promptly dimed him out and told us. Of course, by then, he'd already taken three tests.
When Mrs. Social Studies saw that he had bubbled in all C's on his test, she went nuts. She yanked him out into the hall and gave him a piece of her mind. The Principal found out and gave him a piece of her mind as well. And, for good measure, Mrs. Squirrel, one of our AP's, did the same. And then it was decided that he'd end up taking his tests again. (We caught him at this by the time the Science test rolled around - Mrs. Squirrel came into my room and gave him a good long stare that dropped them temperature in the room about 30 degrees and scared not only C-Boy, but everyone else in the room as well.)
So, C-Boy, who thought he was being clever, ended up having to miss some of his elective classes and make up the tests again. He was not happy. The other kids all found out and got the message that it probably wouldn't be a good idea to goober up on a benchmark.
On Thursday, we're doing our review for our unit test, which is a PowerPoint with sample test questions, followed by the answers so the kids get immediate feedback and we can discuss the question. I always warn the little goobers that memorizing the letters and the order of the answers is pointless because I scramble them and they aren't in the same order as the test. This is met with a groan of dissapointment from those who were looking for an easy way out. However, the kids tend to like this review and it helps them see where they need to focus.
Anyway...we do a test question, and the multiple choice answer happens to be the one that goes with the letter "C".
Red-Headed Boy in the back raises his hand and when I call on him says, "Hey, I bet C-Boy got that one right!" and the class all cracks up, even C-Boy.
However.
Every single time we get an answer with the letter "C", the kids start making snarky comments about C-Boy. He's pretty amused with the attention the first few times, but as the class period winds down, and his classmates keep teasing him, he's starts to get a bit disgruntled. By the time the period was over, he was pretty fed up with the teasing. He didn't say anything smart back (which was actually one of the smartest things he's done in a while), but definitely wasn't laughing.
The funny thing is, we, as teachers, could go on and on with this kid about what a stupid stunt he pulled on his benchmarks, and it would go in one ear and out the other. However, once his peers start picking on him about it, it hits home.
Bet he doesn't do that again. But you can also bet that I'm checking his answer sheets carefully.
Friday, October 31, 2008
Harumph. It's Halloween
Whomever decided it was a good idea to give our students candy during their 1st and 2nd period related arts classes deserves to be strung up by their toes.
Bouncing off the walls doesn't begin to describe it.
If you're going to give the little cherubs candy, give it to them 5 minutes before they leave so they can bounce off their own walls and drive their parents to drink.
Reason Number One why I hate Halloween.
Bouncing off the walls doesn't begin to describe it.
If you're going to give the little cherubs candy, give it to them 5 minutes before they leave so they can bounce off their own walls and drive their parents to drink.
Reason Number One why I hate Halloween.
Friday, October 24, 2008
What's that Crazy Noise in My Brain?
So I made it back from Fall Break in one piece, surviving the Great Colorado Yarn Tour (where Mom, Aunt, and Cousin Penguin and I hit 5 yarn shops in 3 days, which is pretty good for a crazy bunch of knitters), helping Aunt move irrigation pipe and feed calves, yukking it up with Cousin Penguin (made me feel 20 again), and generally having a great fantastic wonderful time.
And on Sunday, hubster and I topped it off by adopting another rescue cat, a 4-month old kitten we named Red Jackson. We had to put our beloved Morgan to sleep in late September (cancer finally caught up with her) and we decided to add another to our family. However. You know how cats sleep something like 18 hours a day? This one does not.
So, I'm not getting a great deal of sleep, and we're doing benchmarks all this week and next, and we had a dance today after school and it's just nuts.
Which is why I didn't completely freak out when, yesterday, this weird noise was lurking around my 6th period class. It was one of those sounds that you aren't really quite sure you're hearing...a very high pitched squeal or whine that would fade in and out, and then you'd think it was gone and then it would be back.
At first, I wasn't even sure I was hearing right. After all, you get 28 7th graders in a room and you hear all sorts of weird noises. Then I was wondering if maybe someone had a cell phone and it was making a noise. Then one of the kids mentioned that they were hearing this really strange noise.
"You too?" I asked. Most of the kids on that side of the room nodded. The rest looked perplexed. "I think it might be coming from outside," one of them volunteered.
So, I pop my head out the door and discover nothing but scattered rain clouds and an empty courtyard. Nothing there. I then check my sound system and fiddle with the buttons thinking some kid had been messing with it or something. The sound seemed to stop for a while and then it came back.
Weird.
I couldn't figure it out and the sound was somewhat intermittent, so I decided to plow right on ahead and get through our foldable notes on body systems. I figured I could check around later after the room was empty and see if I could figure it out.
About three minutes before class ends, however, one of my students, Curly Haired Girl, frantically starts waving her hand in the air.
"I know what the sound is!" she said, her face beaming as if she's solved some great riddle - which she had.
"You do?" I ask, and all the kids turn and look. How on earth could this quiet, unassuming girl figured out the Mystery of the Squealing Noise?
"Yes!" she giggled. "It's my hearing aides! This means they need to get serviced!"
At that point I lost it along with Curly Haired Girl and the rest of the class. Who would have thought? Curly Haired Girl is hearing impaired but you'd hardly know - you never see her hearing aides (all that curly hair), and she doesn't seem to be any different from any other kid. In fact, she pays attention better than most, so you don't even remember that she has an IEP.
We all enjoyed a good giggle, she promised she'd tell mom about the noise, and we ended the day on a high note. Isn't it cool when kids like Curly Haired Girl have no problem being different? And the kids in her class don't find it weird at all?
Sometimes they surprise me.
And on Sunday, hubster and I topped it off by adopting another rescue cat, a 4-month old kitten we named Red Jackson. We had to put our beloved Morgan to sleep in late September (cancer finally caught up with her) and we decided to add another to our family. However. You know how cats sleep something like 18 hours a day? This one does not.
So, I'm not getting a great deal of sleep, and we're doing benchmarks all this week and next, and we had a dance today after school and it's just nuts.
Which is why I didn't completely freak out when, yesterday, this weird noise was lurking around my 6th period class. It was one of those sounds that you aren't really quite sure you're hearing...a very high pitched squeal or whine that would fade in and out, and then you'd think it was gone and then it would be back.
At first, I wasn't even sure I was hearing right. After all, you get 28 7th graders in a room and you hear all sorts of weird noises. Then I was wondering if maybe someone had a cell phone and it was making a noise. Then one of the kids mentioned that they were hearing this really strange noise.
"You too?" I asked. Most of the kids on that side of the room nodded. The rest looked perplexed. "I think it might be coming from outside," one of them volunteered.
So, I pop my head out the door and discover nothing but scattered rain clouds and an empty courtyard. Nothing there. I then check my sound system and fiddle with the buttons thinking some kid had been messing with it or something. The sound seemed to stop for a while and then it came back.
Weird.
I couldn't figure it out and the sound was somewhat intermittent, so I decided to plow right on ahead and get through our foldable notes on body systems. I figured I could check around later after the room was empty and see if I could figure it out.
About three minutes before class ends, however, one of my students, Curly Haired Girl, frantically starts waving her hand in the air.
"I know what the sound is!" she said, her face beaming as if she's solved some great riddle - which she had.
"You do?" I ask, and all the kids turn and look. How on earth could this quiet, unassuming girl figured out the Mystery of the Squealing Noise?
"Yes!" she giggled. "It's my hearing aides! This means they need to get serviced!"
At that point I lost it along with Curly Haired Girl and the rest of the class. Who would have thought? Curly Haired Girl is hearing impaired but you'd hardly know - you never see her hearing aides (all that curly hair), and she doesn't seem to be any different from any other kid. In fact, she pays attention better than most, so you don't even remember that she has an IEP.
We all enjoyed a good giggle, she promised she'd tell mom about the noise, and we ended the day on a high note. Isn't it cool when kids like Curly Haired Girl have no problem being different? And the kids in her class don't find it weird at all?
Sometimes they surprise me.
Friday, November 16, 2007
Playing Principal
So, I'm standing in guidance the other day, having just finished putting the science lab together, when Mr. Enforcer comes by.
"You've got your Master's Degree, right?" he asks.
"Yeah, sure do," I reply, wondering where this was going. After all, I have the student loans to prove it.
"We're really backed up on discipline referrals, so do you think you could help out since you have a student teacher in your class?"
I took a look at the mountain of discipline referrals. He wasn't kidding. It was huge. Massive. Tottering.
"Sure, I could help out as long as someone tells me what to do. I've never done admin before."
"Meet me in my office in the morning and I'll show you the ropes. You'll be great."
So this morning I met up with Mr. Enforcer, who gave me a 5 minute lesson on how to do a referral, turned his office over to me (newly decorated and painted by his wife and The Principal as a surprise), and he took off for a meeting downtown. I had a pile of about 15 discipline files, all for tardies. Basically in The Building, three tardies earns a kid a discipline referral. It's pretty easy to work. They get 5 points in their discipline record and it's up to the administrator (which was me today) to decide what to do with them. This involves looking in their discipline file to see what they've been written up for, counseling the kid and finding out what they think the problem is, and coming to a decision. Most of the kids get your basic after school detention which really isn't a big deal at all.
I had worked one referral when all hell broke lose and the sixth graders lost their minds.
First I had a little sixth grader walk into The Enforcer's office and inform me that a girl he knew had a razor blade and was going to hurt someone.
This was not what I bargained for when I said I'd work the tardy referrals.
I told the kid that he did the right thing by reporting this and walked him across the hall to the Guidance Goddess who had him write his statement. A few minutes later she shows up at the door.
"We need to go get the kid with the razor blade out of gym and you're the only administrator I have," she says. "Mr. Enforcer is out of The Building as is Deputy Dude. The Principal and Mrs. Squirrel are in an IEP meeting with a parent. You're it kiddo." Great. So we walk to the gym, get the girl, and plop her down in guidance to cool her jets until a real administrator was free. In guidance we find three little sixth grade boys furiously writing statements. Apparently there was a fight in the boys locker room.
Oh boy.
They turned in their statements and we sent one of them, Miracle Boy (he's tiny and according to his mother, it's a miracle he's alive) to the nurse. He apparently was choked and slammed into a locker by another kid in the locker room. It fell to me to interview the victim and the two witnesses to see what happened and to get to the bottom of the incident.
The first I talked to was Miracle Boy who was, quite honestly, a laugh riot. We're talking the cutest little sixth grader on earth with freckles, curly hair, big eyes, you name it. You want to take him and hang him on a charm bracelet. It was all I could do not to laugh at some of the things that came out of his mouth. He held nothing back. He informed me that he was ADHD and did pretty good in school but by the time he gets home his meds have worn off and it was all he could do to get homework done what with the cats distracting him and all. His binder was a disaster and he loses everything, and well, that probably has to do with the missing assignments. He's disappointed that he went from being an AB honor roll kid in 5th grade to "just not doing well academically" in the sixth grade, and well, sixth grade is "just not being a good year this year." He admitted to an anger management problem, a bit of a temper, and yeah, well, he does have issues with behavior on the bus. In short, a good kid with a lot of issues, who still didn't deserve to have someone choke him and slam him into a locker.
I talked to the witnesses, neither of whom saw Miracle Boy defend himself, nor saw any reason why the perp would want to hurt him. They did mention that Perp Boy was a bit of a snot who was "always talking trash", and saying mean stuff to everyone.
By the time I finished with that little drama, Mr. Enforcer was back and I gave him a briefing and he took care of dealing with the Perp (who was, I believe, suspended). By this time The Principal and Mrs. Squirrel were dealing with Razor Blade Girl (who tossed her razor blade in the faculty bathroom trashcan where we found it) and her accomplice who sat and cried for two solid hours and finally admitted she'd brought the razor blade from home and gave it to Razor Blade Girl.
Finally. Back to tardies.
Actually the tardies were a bit amusing to work. You get the kids who oversleep ("How about setting two alarms? You have a cell phone, right? Use the alarm on that as your backup."), to the chronically social, ("How about carrying books for more than one class at a time so you don't have to go to the locker and get caught up in the drama?"), to the kids who just can't seem to get life together ("You really need to let Mr. Math know that you are having trouble with your locker.") I'd talk to them, get their side of the story (which was often highly creative), and we'd look at the problem of tardies and find a solution. Most of them either were counseled and warned, a few got two days of after school detention ("You do realize, you have been tardy 15 times this year?"), and most got one day of detention.
It was actually kind of amusing in it's own little weird way.
The part I liked the best was counseling these kids on goals and ways to solve their behavior problems. I discovered that one eighth grader was working towards going to the 8th grade dance this spring and was concerned his discipline points would prevent him from doing this. Considering that this kid had 175 points last year, and only had, as of today, 30, I'd say there was some major growth and maturity. It was nice being able to point this out to him and find out if there was a teacher who could work with him on this goal and maybe find a way to get him to the dance. The teacher he said he felt the most comfortable with was one of our new ones, a science teacher, so I emailed him and told him the story. It's nice seeing these newer teachers connect with these kids.
I had the pleasure of working a referral for one of my most troublesome kids from last year - a kid who nearly drove me, and all of us on the team, insane. You name it, he did it. His referral was for tardies, and there was another one there for talking back at Mrs. Respect. Now Mrs. Respect is just one of those people you don't talk back to. She loves the kids and does everything in the world for them, and she rarely, if ever, writes a kid a referral. If there's a referral written by her, you know it's serious. So I sat Mouthy Boy down and we talked about the tardies (which he readily admitted) and then talked about the disrespectful attitude he had towards Mrs. Respect.
"I honestly can't believe that you'd talk this rudely to her and disobey her," I told him. "She never, ever writes referrals so you really must have crossed the line."
He hung his head (something he never did last year). "Yeah, and she's my favorite teacher this year."
"You owe her an apology," I said, "And although I hate to do it, this really does warrant a day in ISS. "
"That's fair," he said.
What? Did I hear right? He said that a day in in school suspension was Fair???? Last year this kid would have gone on and on about how it wasn't his fault, he didn't deserve to get in trouble, and so forth and so on. And now he's agreeing with me and saying that his consequence is fair?
Wow. It's wonderful to watch them mature and grow up.
And I'm drinking wine tonight.
"You've got your Master's Degree, right?" he asks.
"Yeah, sure do," I reply, wondering where this was going. After all, I have the student loans to prove it.
"We're really backed up on discipline referrals, so do you think you could help out since you have a student teacher in your class?"
I took a look at the mountain of discipline referrals. He wasn't kidding. It was huge. Massive. Tottering.
"Sure, I could help out as long as someone tells me what to do. I've never done admin before."
"Meet me in my office in the morning and I'll show you the ropes. You'll be great."
So this morning I met up with Mr. Enforcer, who gave me a 5 minute lesson on how to do a referral, turned his office over to me (newly decorated and painted by his wife and The Principal as a surprise), and he took off for a meeting downtown. I had a pile of about 15 discipline files, all for tardies. Basically in The Building, three tardies earns a kid a discipline referral. It's pretty easy to work. They get 5 points in their discipline record and it's up to the administrator (which was me today) to decide what to do with them. This involves looking in their discipline file to see what they've been written up for, counseling the kid and finding out what they think the problem is, and coming to a decision. Most of the kids get your basic after school detention which really isn't a big deal at all.
I had worked one referral when all hell broke lose and the sixth graders lost their minds.
First I had a little sixth grader walk into The Enforcer's office and inform me that a girl he knew had a razor blade and was going to hurt someone.
This was not what I bargained for when I said I'd work the tardy referrals.
I told the kid that he did the right thing by reporting this and walked him across the hall to the Guidance Goddess who had him write his statement. A few minutes later she shows up at the door.
"We need to go get the kid with the razor blade out of gym and you're the only administrator I have," she says. "Mr. Enforcer is out of The Building as is Deputy Dude. The Principal and Mrs. Squirrel are in an IEP meeting with a parent. You're it kiddo." Great. So we walk to the gym, get the girl, and plop her down in guidance to cool her jets until a real administrator was free. In guidance we find three little sixth grade boys furiously writing statements. Apparently there was a fight in the boys locker room.
Oh boy.
They turned in their statements and we sent one of them, Miracle Boy (he's tiny and according to his mother, it's a miracle he's alive) to the nurse. He apparently was choked and slammed into a locker by another kid in the locker room. It fell to me to interview the victim and the two witnesses to see what happened and to get to the bottom of the incident.
The first I talked to was Miracle Boy who was, quite honestly, a laugh riot. We're talking the cutest little sixth grader on earth with freckles, curly hair, big eyes, you name it. You want to take him and hang him on a charm bracelet. It was all I could do not to laugh at some of the things that came out of his mouth. He held nothing back. He informed me that he was ADHD and did pretty good in school but by the time he gets home his meds have worn off and it was all he could do to get homework done what with the cats distracting him and all. His binder was a disaster and he loses everything, and well, that probably has to do with the missing assignments. He's disappointed that he went from being an AB honor roll kid in 5th grade to "just not doing well academically" in the sixth grade, and well, sixth grade is "just not being a good year this year." He admitted to an anger management problem, a bit of a temper, and yeah, well, he does have issues with behavior on the bus. In short, a good kid with a lot of issues, who still didn't deserve to have someone choke him and slam him into a locker.
I talked to the witnesses, neither of whom saw Miracle Boy defend himself, nor saw any reason why the perp would want to hurt him. They did mention that Perp Boy was a bit of a snot who was "always talking trash", and saying mean stuff to everyone.
By the time I finished with that little drama, Mr. Enforcer was back and I gave him a briefing and he took care of dealing with the Perp (who was, I believe, suspended). By this time The Principal and Mrs. Squirrel were dealing with Razor Blade Girl (who tossed her razor blade in the faculty bathroom trashcan where we found it) and her accomplice who sat and cried for two solid hours and finally admitted she'd brought the razor blade from home and gave it to Razor Blade Girl.
Finally. Back to tardies.
Actually the tardies were a bit amusing to work. You get the kids who oversleep ("How about setting two alarms? You have a cell phone, right? Use the alarm on that as your backup."), to the chronically social, ("How about carrying books for more than one class at a time so you don't have to go to the locker and get caught up in the drama?"), to the kids who just can't seem to get life together ("You really need to let Mr. Math know that you are having trouble with your locker.") I'd talk to them, get their side of the story (which was often highly creative), and we'd look at the problem of tardies and find a solution. Most of them either were counseled and warned, a few got two days of after school detention ("You do realize, you have been tardy 15 times this year?"), and most got one day of detention.
It was actually kind of amusing in it's own little weird way.
The part I liked the best was counseling these kids on goals and ways to solve their behavior problems. I discovered that one eighth grader was working towards going to the 8th grade dance this spring and was concerned his discipline points would prevent him from doing this. Considering that this kid had 175 points last year, and only had, as of today, 30, I'd say there was some major growth and maturity. It was nice being able to point this out to him and find out if there was a teacher who could work with him on this goal and maybe find a way to get him to the dance. The teacher he said he felt the most comfortable with was one of our new ones, a science teacher, so I emailed him and told him the story. It's nice seeing these newer teachers connect with these kids.
I had the pleasure of working a referral for one of my most troublesome kids from last year - a kid who nearly drove me, and all of us on the team, insane. You name it, he did it. His referral was for tardies, and there was another one there for talking back at Mrs. Respect. Now Mrs. Respect is just one of those people you don't talk back to. She loves the kids and does everything in the world for them, and she rarely, if ever, writes a kid a referral. If there's a referral written by her, you know it's serious. So I sat Mouthy Boy down and we talked about the tardies (which he readily admitted) and then talked about the disrespectful attitude he had towards Mrs. Respect.
"I honestly can't believe that you'd talk this rudely to her and disobey her," I told him. "She never, ever writes referrals so you really must have crossed the line."
He hung his head (something he never did last year). "Yeah, and she's my favorite teacher this year."
"You owe her an apology," I said, "And although I hate to do it, this really does warrant a day in ISS. "
"That's fair," he said.
What? Did I hear right? He said that a day in in school suspension was Fair???? Last year this kid would have gone on and on about how it wasn't his fault, he didn't deserve to get in trouble, and so forth and so on. And now he's agreeing with me and saying that his consequence is fair?
Wow. It's wonderful to watch them mature and grow up.
And I'm drinking wine tonight.
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Baking Cookies for a Cause
A few months ago, when we saw that we would, yet again, have a huge number of our students with a deployed parent, the Guidance Goober asked for volunteer teachers to help run a Military Support Group. The idea was to give these kids an after school activity where they could be with other kids who were going through the same sort of thing, give them some fun things to do, and also provide a safe place to vent their fears and frustrations.
So of course Mrs. Eagle, Mrs. Language and I signed up to help.
We had our first club meeting on Wednesday. It was a rainy, windy, and dreary day, but a perfect day to bake cookies. We thought it would be fun to bake Christmas cookies for the parents and also for the military unit that has adopted our school. We made gingerbread cookies and sugar cookies, and Mrs. Language brought her box of 100 different cookie cutters. I never realized that there was such a thing as a box of a 100 cookie cutters...which shows you how often I bake.
We had a pretty varied group of kids. We had quite a few sixth graders, plus some seventh graders, and one eighth grader who is also autistic. Our roster will probably expand a bit once we get the bus transportation set up with the transportation department and the kids don't have to be picked up after the club meeting.
One of the seventh graders was Too Kool, a kid who thinks he's too cool for school and who just doesn't want to do anything unless it's his idea. He was on our team originally, but was removed due to conflicts with some other kids on the team. In any case, he definitely didn't want to be there and sat away from the other kids, with his back turned. He decided that making cookies was "lame".
Fifteen minutes later after realizing that (a) there was no one in the room whom he needed to impress with his coolness and (b) that the other kids were having fun while he was sulking, he decided to join in. By the end of the afternoon he was cutting out cookies, cleaning up the pans, and putting on frosting decorations. He smiled, and giggled, and acted like a normal kid (and not a thug) for once.
The kids had a ball. They worked as a team to mix up the gingerbread cookie dough, they made beautiful art with mini M&M's, sprinkles and frosting and they didn't whine and beg to eat most of the cookies. They were awesome.
The best part of the whole afternoon for me was when one of the little sixth grade girls, after decorating a heart-shaped cookie, looked up at me and said, "Wow! I just realized that I've had fun for five whole minutes and forgot that Mom was in Iraq." She beamed.
Just giving those kids a moment of relief and peace is worth its weight in gold.
So of course Mrs. Eagle, Mrs. Language and I signed up to help.
We had our first club meeting on Wednesday. It was a rainy, windy, and dreary day, but a perfect day to bake cookies. We thought it would be fun to bake Christmas cookies for the parents and also for the military unit that has adopted our school. We made gingerbread cookies and sugar cookies, and Mrs. Language brought her box of 100 different cookie cutters. I never realized that there was such a thing as a box of a 100 cookie cutters...which shows you how often I bake.
We had a pretty varied group of kids. We had quite a few sixth graders, plus some seventh graders, and one eighth grader who is also autistic. Our roster will probably expand a bit once we get the bus transportation set up with the transportation department and the kids don't have to be picked up after the club meeting.
One of the seventh graders was Too Kool, a kid who thinks he's too cool for school and who just doesn't want to do anything unless it's his idea. He was on our team originally, but was removed due to conflicts with some other kids on the team. In any case, he definitely didn't want to be there and sat away from the other kids, with his back turned. He decided that making cookies was "lame".
Fifteen minutes later after realizing that (a) there was no one in the room whom he needed to impress with his coolness and (b) that the other kids were having fun while he was sulking, he decided to join in. By the end of the afternoon he was cutting out cookies, cleaning up the pans, and putting on frosting decorations. He smiled, and giggled, and acted like a normal kid (and not a thug) for once.
The kids had a ball. They worked as a team to mix up the gingerbread cookie dough, they made beautiful art with mini M&M's, sprinkles and frosting and they didn't whine and beg to eat most of the cookies. They were awesome.
The best part of the whole afternoon for me was when one of the little sixth grade girls, after decorating a heart-shaped cookie, looked up at me and said, "Wow! I just realized that I've had fun for five whole minutes and forgot that Mom was in Iraq." She beamed.
Just giving those kids a moment of relief and peace is worth its weight in gold.
Friday, November 09, 2007
They also serve
I teach in a military town, so Veteran's Day is a big deal here. Many members of the community are veterans (many come here to retire), and we always have a big Veteran's Day parade downtown. The School also has a ceremony every year to mark the occasion.
And we do it up right.
The band plays patriotic medleys. The chorus sings some wonderful patriotic songs and our music teacher sings the National Anthem (she's amazing). We have the school winner of the Veteran's Day essay contest read his or her essay, we have some honored guests from our local military post, and we have a veteran guest speaker. One of our own teachers, also a veteran, acts as emcee because when he retires he better go into preachin', he's that good. Talk about motivational. We also honor all the faculty and staff (and there's quite a few including Mrs. Eagle, Mr. Enforcer, and Mr. Social Studies) who are veterans.
This year, however, we added a little twist. Those of us on the committee wanted all the students who currently have a parent deployed to have a bit of recognition as well. They all got American flags when they got to sixth period, and they brought them to the ceremony.
First, we had faculty and staff who had a child or spouse deployed stand up to be recognized. Again, quite a few. The kids screamed and cheered.
Then Mrs. Numbers, the sixth grade math teacher who puts this together every year, asked the kids if they knew why they got flags. "Because my Dad is in Afghanistan!" came one voice, followed by "My mom is in Iraq!", and pretty soon a chorus of "Mine too!" followed . And then, her voice breaking, she had the kids with the flags, the ones who currently have a parent serving overseas, stand up and wave their flags. Approximately 200 kids stood up and many of us who teach this kids got a tear in our eye.
And the place erupted into clapping and cheering and stamping and hollering as their classmates acknowledged that these kids, in their own way, serve as well.
Because it sucks to be a middle schooler in the first place. But to be a middle schooler, with the added weight of having a parent serving overseas, and missing them and worrying about them, sucks even more.
And I was so proud of both groups of kids - my stoic little military "brats", and their classmates who showed they cared. It was the perfect way to end the week.
To all my veteran readers out there - thank you.
And we do it up right.
The band plays patriotic medleys. The chorus sings some wonderful patriotic songs and our music teacher sings the National Anthem (she's amazing). We have the school winner of the Veteran's Day essay contest read his or her essay, we have some honored guests from our local military post, and we have a veteran guest speaker. One of our own teachers, also a veteran, acts as emcee because when he retires he better go into preachin', he's that good. Talk about motivational. We also honor all the faculty and staff (and there's quite a few including Mrs. Eagle, Mr. Enforcer, and Mr. Social Studies) who are veterans.
This year, however, we added a little twist. Those of us on the committee wanted all the students who currently have a parent deployed to have a bit of recognition as well. They all got American flags when they got to sixth period, and they brought them to the ceremony.
First, we had faculty and staff who had a child or spouse deployed stand up to be recognized. Again, quite a few. The kids screamed and cheered.
Then Mrs. Numbers, the sixth grade math teacher who puts this together every year, asked the kids if they knew why they got flags. "Because my Dad is in Afghanistan!" came one voice, followed by "My mom is in Iraq!", and pretty soon a chorus of "Mine too!" followed . And then, her voice breaking, she had the kids with the flags, the ones who currently have a parent serving overseas, stand up and wave their flags. Approximately 200 kids stood up and many of us who teach this kids got a tear in our eye.
And the place erupted into clapping and cheering and stamping and hollering as their classmates acknowledged that these kids, in their own way, serve as well.
Because it sucks to be a middle schooler in the first place. But to be a middle schooler, with the added weight of having a parent serving overseas, and missing them and worrying about them, sucks even more.
And I was so proud of both groups of kids - my stoic little military "brats", and their classmates who showed they cared. It was the perfect way to end the week.
To all my veteran readers out there - thank you.
Wednesday, November 07, 2007
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.
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.
Saturday, November 03, 2007
I'd Like Some Green Hair Please
We had our Fall Festival last night.
I am so freaking tired I can hardly see straight. Still.
Talk about a long day...I arrived at 6:30 am, left at 8:30 pm...and was on my feet most of that time. One thing they don't teach you in Teacher School is that you'll be on your feet a lot and the value of Very Good Shoes.
Anyway...
Mrs. Eagle, Mrs. Language, and I, as sponsors of the Chess and Board Game Club, decided we'd run a booth at the Festival which was, amazingly, put together in about two weeks when we found out that the PTO decided they didn't have the manpower or support to do it on their own this year. The Jr. Civitan club and Student Council stepped up as did a few of the other clubs and even some teachers who aren't club sponsors. (For example, our new Miss Reading bravely hosted the karaoke booth.) We decided we were going to do the "hair and nail salon" which involved spraying colored spray into kids' hair, using colored gel to make spikes and mohawks, and do weird colored manicures. Kids could buy tickets for fifty cents a piece and go to all sorts of events - cake walk, 2 liter soda pop ring toss (hugely popular), bean bag toss, and more. We also had a craft show and a silent auction for the adults.
The three of us were busy for two solid hours making our students look even stranger than they normally are. Even at one dollar per "beauty treatment" we had lines 2-3 kids deep waiting to sit down and get beautified. We had boys come and get their nails painted metallic blue and black and then ask for red and blue mohawk spikes. Girls got red, white and blue stripes in their hair, with orange nails and black tips. Want glitter gel in your hair? We got you covered. Green stripes? No problem. Want an all over bright pink spray? Sit down and we'll take care of you.
Amazing what middle schoolers like, isn't it?
Maybe that's what makes them so much fun.
I am so freaking tired I can hardly see straight. Still.
Talk about a long day...I arrived at 6:30 am, left at 8:30 pm...and was on my feet most of that time. One thing they don't teach you in Teacher School is that you'll be on your feet a lot and the value of Very Good Shoes.
Anyway...
Mrs. Eagle, Mrs. Language, and I, as sponsors of the Chess and Board Game Club, decided we'd run a booth at the Festival which was, amazingly, put together in about two weeks when we found out that the PTO decided they didn't have the manpower or support to do it on their own this year. The Jr. Civitan club and Student Council stepped up as did a few of the other clubs and even some teachers who aren't club sponsors. (For example, our new Miss Reading bravely hosted the karaoke booth.) We decided we were going to do the "hair and nail salon" which involved spraying colored spray into kids' hair, using colored gel to make spikes and mohawks, and do weird colored manicures. Kids could buy tickets for fifty cents a piece and go to all sorts of events - cake walk, 2 liter soda pop ring toss (hugely popular), bean bag toss, and more. We also had a craft show and a silent auction for the adults.
The three of us were busy for two solid hours making our students look even stranger than they normally are. Even at one dollar per "beauty treatment" we had lines 2-3 kids deep waiting to sit down and get beautified. We had boys come and get their nails painted metallic blue and black and then ask for red and blue mohawk spikes. Girls got red, white and blue stripes in their hair, with orange nails and black tips. Want glitter gel in your hair? We got you covered. Green stripes? No problem. Want an all over bright pink spray? Sit down and we'll take care of you.
Amazing what middle schoolers like, isn't it?
Maybe that's what makes them so much fun.
Friday, October 26, 2007
Mr. T Comes to Town
I have a student teacher.
I wasn't expecting a student teacher - at all - and had agreed to have an observer from The University come and observe. I've had a bunch of observers the past few years so that's pretty much a no-brainer. However, someone at The University apparently can't count and handed off two student teachers to one of our sixth grade science teachers.
We have two new science teachers in eighth grade, and our one senior science teacher up there is probably going out for back surgery soon. So eighth grade was out of the question. The other two sixth grade science teachers were also relatively new (just two years experience), so they weren't an option. That left seventh grade. Mrs. Eagle had a student teacher last year, and Mrs. Robin, with her husband deployed and her two kids being a complete handful, just wasn't up to adding one more thing to her life, so that left me. I'd actually considered taking one in the past, but never pursued it, so I guess now it was my time.
Mr. T just finished student teaching High School Biology and since we are heading off into the cell unit, it's a great time for him to come. He spent today observing and I had him helping do a few things today. So far, so good. His University teacher said he needs work on organization and planning, and since those are two of my strong points he'll be getting a lot of exposure in that area.
Of course, today being a full moon, we had more than our share of drama. First, we had rumors of a girl fight pending, and Mr. Social Studies and I spent some time with kids in the hallway getting to the bottom of it. Mr. Social Studies, by the way, is a master at getting kids to spill their guts to him. It must be his experience in the military as a police officer, but all he has to do is give them a look and they're telling him their life story and confessing to crimes they haven't even thought of yet. He whips out his memo pad, takes down the information, and we turn it over to administration. I ended up giving one of my boys, Puppy Boy, a coupon for a treat at the snack shack for next Friday as he did the right thing by letting us know about the details of the proposed fight, and didn't do the popular thing and keep quiet.
Then we had the 8th grade rumor mill going strong which sent two of my girls from last year down to my room in tears looking for some "mommy time". They came by on their way back from lunch to let me know that one of our boys was in the hospital with meningitis and was going to die or lose a leg or something. Apparently the rumor was spreading like fire and the whole 8th grade was in an uproar. I told them I'd find out what was going on but not to believe anything until an adult told them. They wanted hugs and cried a bit more and then I sent them on their way with tardy slips. Seems that the young man in question simply had a bad case of the flu, went to the hospital because he was so dehydrated, and now was home.
Mr. T asks me if it's always this dramatic in seventh grade. I informed him that it wasn't always, but it being a Friday and a full moon, you just never know.
Like I've always said, I quit watching soap operas when I began to teach middle school because I have all the drama I can stand in my life.
However, it's going to be hard for me to step back and let someone else take charge of my kids, but as Mr. Enforcer said, "It's still your class." This is, most likely, going to be a learning experience for me as well.
And I'm so freaking tired I glad it's Friday.
I wasn't expecting a student teacher - at all - and had agreed to have an observer from The University come and observe. I've had a bunch of observers the past few years so that's pretty much a no-brainer. However, someone at The University apparently can't count and handed off two student teachers to one of our sixth grade science teachers.
We have two new science teachers in eighth grade, and our one senior science teacher up there is probably going out for back surgery soon. So eighth grade was out of the question. The other two sixth grade science teachers were also relatively new (just two years experience), so they weren't an option. That left seventh grade. Mrs. Eagle had a student teacher last year, and Mrs. Robin, with her husband deployed and her two kids being a complete handful, just wasn't up to adding one more thing to her life, so that left me. I'd actually considered taking one in the past, but never pursued it, so I guess now it was my time.
Mr. T just finished student teaching High School Biology and since we are heading off into the cell unit, it's a great time for him to come. He spent today observing and I had him helping do a few things today. So far, so good. His University teacher said he needs work on organization and planning, and since those are two of my strong points he'll be getting a lot of exposure in that area.
Of course, today being a full moon, we had more than our share of drama. First, we had rumors of a girl fight pending, and Mr. Social Studies and I spent some time with kids in the hallway getting to the bottom of it. Mr. Social Studies, by the way, is a master at getting kids to spill their guts to him. It must be his experience in the military as a police officer, but all he has to do is give them a look and they're telling him their life story and confessing to crimes they haven't even thought of yet. He whips out his memo pad, takes down the information, and we turn it over to administration. I ended up giving one of my boys, Puppy Boy, a coupon for a treat at the snack shack for next Friday as he did the right thing by letting us know about the details of the proposed fight, and didn't do the popular thing and keep quiet.
Then we had the 8th grade rumor mill going strong which sent two of my girls from last year down to my room in tears looking for some "mommy time". They came by on their way back from lunch to let me know that one of our boys was in the hospital with meningitis and was going to die or lose a leg or something. Apparently the rumor was spreading like fire and the whole 8th grade was in an uproar. I told them I'd find out what was going on but not to believe anything until an adult told them. They wanted hugs and cried a bit more and then I sent them on their way with tardy slips. Seems that the young man in question simply had a bad case of the flu, went to the hospital because he was so dehydrated, and now was home.
Mr. T asks me if it's always this dramatic in seventh grade. I informed him that it wasn't always, but it being a Friday and a full moon, you just never know.
Like I've always said, I quit watching soap operas when I began to teach middle school because I have all the drama I can stand in my life.
However, it's going to be hard for me to step back and let someone else take charge of my kids, but as Mr. Enforcer said, "It's still your class." This is, most likely, going to be a learning experience for me as well.
And I'm so freaking tired I glad it's Friday.
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Of Dances, Broken Chairs, Victory for the Non-Losers, and a Walk In the Sunshine
Daddy is visiting and that means I've been busy helping him with house and garden projects. We've painted the deck, deck swings, the shutters, planted tomatoes and marigolds, washed the house, and stuff I can't even remember. At least we're getting stuff done and I'm not cooking. He loves to eat out!
As you can tell from my ticker, there's not many days left so it's a crazy time at school. However, I'm so tired by the time the day is over, I haven't had much of a chance to blog, so here are some tidbits, here and there...or, as it says in the title, this, that and the other thing.
1. As usual, I chaperoned the 8th grade dance. I never heard of such a thing until I moved down here, but it's like a younger version of the prom. Well, sort of. We try to discourage the big elaborate spending of money for dresses, and all that and basically said, "wear your Sunday go to meeting clothes", and most of them did. I'm not sure if the clothing manufacturers are not pushing the Britney Spears Slutwear or what, but the girls looked a lot less trashy this year than in previous years. They looked, quite honestly, like cute 8th grade girls should look. Then again, the girls who'd be dressing slutty were the ones who couldn't come to the dance anyway because of the number of discipline points they'd earned this year.
2. Stoopid Boy made it to the dance (with a little help from Mrs. Partridge who decided that 35 points was a HUGE improvement and he'd earned the right to go). I'm glad he was there. We had our picture taken together and you can bet that one will be a keeper. I'll miss that kid.
3. Remember how Rude Boy and Cast Boy had a run in earlier in the year? Well, Rude Boy was in ISS most of last week when the kids were doing their Severe Weather PowerPoint Project. He lied to me (what a shock) and said he wasn't allowed to do his work up there, and then when I said that I'd talked with the ISS teachers, and yes he was, he informed me that the computer broke every time he got on it. Amazing. In any case, he turned in a project last week. Turned out it was Cast Boy's project which he copied and did nothing more than change his name. I about died laughing when I saw that because I'd actually helped Cast Boy with some of the graphics so I knew his project pretty well. (This is what happens at the end of the year when the server folders are a mess and the best I could do is have the kids store their projects on the desktop and hope they didn't mess with each other's work and or do something stupid - like copy). I sent Rude Boy's dad an email, along with the assignment attached which specifically spells out that any student who passed off someone's work as his or her own would earn a zero and a behavior note. Which is what he got. So he earned a whopping 48% for the year in my class. His Dad signed the note and was very apologetic in the email. He'd be better off putting his kid in therapy.
4. I mentioned to The Enforcer about Rude Boy's cheating incident in my room. His response? "Whatever you do, don't write a referral. I'm running out of furniture." Apparently the last time Rude Boy was called to the Enforcer's office for his latest incident, he flopped all of his 400 pounds down into one of Mr. Enforcer's chairs and it went crashing to the floor, along with Rude Boy. It's amazing that Rude Boy was actually able to get up off the floor after that one.
5. We cleaned out lockers which, in itself, is a scary thing. I don't ever want to see these kids bedrooms. One kids had eight - yes eight! - jackets in his locker. One wonders if his mother noticed that he was missing that many articles of clothing.
6. Due to the lockers being cleaned out, they've shortened the time between classes from five minutes to three. Hey, the kids don't need to go to the lockers, so why do they need five minuted? It gives them two fewer minutes to cause drama in the hallways and get into fights and trouble. Of course Brick Boy, who's never moved faster than a very slow stroll, is incensed as it is impossible for him to get to the bathroom and to class on time. Considering that he claims he needs to go to the bathroom during every class and between every class (his ploy to get out of the room and wander aimlessly), this was no shock. What will surprise him is that next year the kids will only have four minutes, not five.
7. We raised over $2,000 for the American Cancer Society's Relay for Life. Someone got the brilliant idea that we could charge the kids a dollar for the chance to wear a hat, flip flops, and sunglasses and they could go outside and walk around a makeshift track for a designated hour. I know middle schoolers will pay a dollar to do almost anything, but we were amazed at the turn out for Relay. Of course, they got to walk with their friends, buy snow cones and water, and wear hats and sunglasses - anything beats being in class. The weather was perfect, and Mrs. Math and I walked the route several times and enjoyed the break.
8. Cast Boy is in ISS for the rest of the year - and it was for something he did in another team area that got him written up. Of course, he found a cell phone and called mom/grandmother (Biological mom apparently has a drug problem so Grandma adopted him a birth and is raising him) who came down and pitched a fit because it's obvious that everyone in the whole school is picking on him. She demanded that every piece of paper in his discipline file be copied for her, which the Guidance Goddess did. Of course, considering the amount of paper in that folder, it took some time. Hope she has fun at the school board - she's lucky he didn't earn a ticket to alternative school.
9. The Non-Losers in the Third Period Class From the Very Depths of Hell Itself noticed the other day that all the Losers were - gasp! - pretty much gone from the class. They had managed to earn themselves stints in ISS or were suspended (one moved, we celebrated). I told them that their wish had come true but now they had to prove it was just the Losers causing all the problems in their class. They were a delight. We're making kites and they accomplished more than any other class. I think they've learned a pretty valuable lesson this year.
As you can tell from my ticker, there's not many days left so it's a crazy time at school. However, I'm so tired by the time the day is over, I haven't had much of a chance to blog, so here are some tidbits, here and there...or, as it says in the title, this, that and the other thing.
1. As usual, I chaperoned the 8th grade dance. I never heard of such a thing until I moved down here, but it's like a younger version of the prom. Well, sort of. We try to discourage the big elaborate spending of money for dresses, and all that and basically said, "wear your Sunday go to meeting clothes", and most of them did. I'm not sure if the clothing manufacturers are not pushing the Britney Spears Slutwear or what, but the girls looked a lot less trashy this year than in previous years. They looked, quite honestly, like cute 8th grade girls should look. Then again, the girls who'd be dressing slutty were the ones who couldn't come to the dance anyway because of the number of discipline points they'd earned this year.
2. Stoopid Boy made it to the dance (with a little help from Mrs. Partridge who decided that 35 points was a HUGE improvement and he'd earned the right to go). I'm glad he was there. We had our picture taken together and you can bet that one will be a keeper. I'll miss that kid.
3. Remember how Rude Boy and Cast Boy had a run in earlier in the year? Well, Rude Boy was in ISS most of last week when the kids were doing their Severe Weather PowerPoint Project. He lied to me (what a shock) and said he wasn't allowed to do his work up there, and then when I said that I'd talked with the ISS teachers, and yes he was, he informed me that the computer broke every time he got on it. Amazing. In any case, he turned in a project last week. Turned out it was Cast Boy's project which he copied and did nothing more than change his name. I about died laughing when I saw that because I'd actually helped Cast Boy with some of the graphics so I knew his project pretty well. (This is what happens at the end of the year when the server folders are a mess and the best I could do is have the kids store their projects on the desktop and hope they didn't mess with each other's work and or do something stupid - like copy). I sent Rude Boy's dad an email, along with the assignment attached which specifically spells out that any student who passed off someone's work as his or her own would earn a zero and a behavior note. Which is what he got. So he earned a whopping 48% for the year in my class. His Dad signed the note and was very apologetic in the email. He'd be better off putting his kid in therapy.
4. I mentioned to The Enforcer about Rude Boy's cheating incident in my room. His response? "Whatever you do, don't write a referral. I'm running out of furniture." Apparently the last time Rude Boy was called to the Enforcer's office for his latest incident, he flopped all of his 400 pounds down into one of Mr. Enforcer's chairs and it went crashing to the floor, along with Rude Boy. It's amazing that Rude Boy was actually able to get up off the floor after that one.
5. We cleaned out lockers which, in itself, is a scary thing. I don't ever want to see these kids bedrooms. One kids had eight - yes eight! - jackets in his locker. One wonders if his mother noticed that he was missing that many articles of clothing.
6. Due to the lockers being cleaned out, they've shortened the time between classes from five minutes to three. Hey, the kids don't need to go to the lockers, so why do they need five minuted? It gives them two fewer minutes to cause drama in the hallways and get into fights and trouble. Of course Brick Boy, who's never moved faster than a very slow stroll, is incensed as it is impossible for him to get to the bathroom and to class on time. Considering that he claims he needs to go to the bathroom during every class and between every class (his ploy to get out of the room and wander aimlessly), this was no shock. What will surprise him is that next year the kids will only have four minutes, not five.
7. We raised over $2,000 for the American Cancer Society's Relay for Life. Someone got the brilliant idea that we could charge the kids a dollar for the chance to wear a hat, flip flops, and sunglasses and they could go outside and walk around a makeshift track for a designated hour. I know middle schoolers will pay a dollar to do almost anything, but we were amazed at the turn out for Relay. Of course, they got to walk with their friends, buy snow cones and water, and wear hats and sunglasses - anything beats being in class. The weather was perfect, and Mrs. Math and I walked the route several times and enjoyed the break.
8. Cast Boy is in ISS for the rest of the year - and it was for something he did in another team area that got him written up. Of course, he found a cell phone and called mom/grandmother (Biological mom apparently has a drug problem so Grandma adopted him a birth and is raising him) who came down and pitched a fit because it's obvious that everyone in the whole school is picking on him. She demanded that every piece of paper in his discipline file be copied for her, which the Guidance Goddess did. Of course, considering the amount of paper in that folder, it took some time. Hope she has fun at the school board - she's lucky he didn't earn a ticket to alternative school.
9. The Non-Losers in the Third Period Class From the Very Depths of Hell Itself noticed the other day that all the Losers were - gasp! - pretty much gone from the class. They had managed to earn themselves stints in ISS or were suspended (one moved, we celebrated). I told them that their wish had come true but now they had to prove it was just the Losers causing all the problems in their class. They were a delight. We're making kites and they accomplished more than any other class. I think they've learned a pretty valuable lesson this year.
Wednesday, May 02, 2007
Why Field Day Was the Pits.
I usually enjoy Field Day. I like getting outside. I like watching the kids play kickball and volleyball and do tug-of-war and all that. It's fun. It's somewhat relaxing. And the kids have a ball.
This year it was awful.
That morning as I drove to school I stopped to get some sunblock since I'd lost mine on the camping trip. It was a beautiful morning, with a few clouds in the sky, a lovely sun rising in the east - a perfect day for Field Day.
Except, of course, by the time we took the kids outside a brisk wind was blowing, dark clouds covered the sky and it looked like the heavens were going to open up on us. They didn't, thank goodness, but that was the only positive point of the whole day.
Due to the cold weather the kids, who are usually baking in the sun and whining about the heat and slowing down somewhat (due to the sun and heat), were wild. Absolutely wild. My mom once said that her horses played more and ran faster in cold weather, and the kids were no exception. Instead of spending field day enjoying the sports and the kids, we spent it on discipline issues and crises management.
We started off with about eight of our special ed kids who were passing around condoms, which had apparently been shoplifted earlier that week. Mrs. Language, Mr. Social Studies and I spent thirty minutes trying to sort that one out. Especially since we weren't really all that sure they even knew what the condoms were supposed to be used for. Let's just say these were the last kids we would have suspected in a condom-passing incident. Amusing moment was watching Mrs. Language interrogate the boy who finally admitted bringing them to school and asking him, "Do you know what these are used for?" and having him hem and haw and stammer and finally squeak out a "Yes, ma'am." Her response? "You certainly weren't planning to do that here at school were you?" I thought he was going to faint from embarrassment.
Then we had some of boys huffing and puffing and talking trash and trying to get involved in a fight.
Then Faraway Girl complained that a boy from Mrs. Eagle's team was touching her inappropriately. Mr. Social Studies got a hold of him and not only did he admit to the touching, but he admitted that he was touching two other girls as well. (He got seven days suspension.)
Then one of our kids got smacked by a kickball in the jaw so I had to walk her up to the nurse, and discovered three other kids trailing us so they could get in the building and get their coats.
Then the workers at the city pool, which sits next to the school, decided to work on the pool which caused the field between the kickball field and the school to FLOOD with up to 4" of quickly moving water. One minute there's a dry field...the next minute we're trying to figure how to move 450 kids through it without getting them soaked.
Then we realized that we had no way to get Scooter Girl through the field as the path she motored down on was flooded and her scooter can't get wet. Thank goodness two PTO moms were there (selling concessions) and were able to take her back to the building in a van, with her scooter (which is amazingly heavy) in a trailer behind another car. We got her in for lunch, but due to the flood and the cold, she decided (unhappily) that it would be better if she stayed in the building for the rest of the day. I felt awful for her, but she's a computer nut and was able to go play to her heart's content on a computer in the library.
And we lost, for the first time that I can remember, Field Day. Out of 30 possible points, we scored...are you ready....three.
That's three.
For coming in third place in Volleyball.
Out of three teams.
It was awful.
This year it was awful.
That morning as I drove to school I stopped to get some sunblock since I'd lost mine on the camping trip. It was a beautiful morning, with a few clouds in the sky, a lovely sun rising in the east - a perfect day for Field Day.
Except, of course, by the time we took the kids outside a brisk wind was blowing, dark clouds covered the sky and it looked like the heavens were going to open up on us. They didn't, thank goodness, but that was the only positive point of the whole day.
Due to the cold weather the kids, who are usually baking in the sun and whining about the heat and slowing down somewhat (due to the sun and heat), were wild. Absolutely wild. My mom once said that her horses played more and ran faster in cold weather, and the kids were no exception. Instead of spending field day enjoying the sports and the kids, we spent it on discipline issues and crises management.
We started off with about eight of our special ed kids who were passing around condoms, which had apparently been shoplifted earlier that week. Mrs. Language, Mr. Social Studies and I spent thirty minutes trying to sort that one out. Especially since we weren't really all that sure they even knew what the condoms were supposed to be used for. Let's just say these were the last kids we would have suspected in a condom-passing incident. Amusing moment was watching Mrs. Language interrogate the boy who finally admitted bringing them to school and asking him, "Do you know what these are used for?" and having him hem and haw and stammer and finally squeak out a "Yes, ma'am." Her response? "You certainly weren't planning to do that here at school were you?" I thought he was going to faint from embarrassment.
Then we had some of boys huffing and puffing and talking trash and trying to get involved in a fight.
Then Faraway Girl complained that a boy from Mrs. Eagle's team was touching her inappropriately. Mr. Social Studies got a hold of him and not only did he admit to the touching, but he admitted that he was touching two other girls as well. (He got seven days suspension.)
Then one of our kids got smacked by a kickball in the jaw so I had to walk her up to the nurse, and discovered three other kids trailing us so they could get in the building and get their coats.
Then the workers at the city pool, which sits next to the school, decided to work on the pool which caused the field between the kickball field and the school to FLOOD with up to 4" of quickly moving water. One minute there's a dry field...the next minute we're trying to figure how to move 450 kids through it without getting them soaked.
Then we realized that we had no way to get Scooter Girl through the field as the path she motored down on was flooded and her scooter can't get wet. Thank goodness two PTO moms were there (selling concessions) and were able to take her back to the building in a van, with her scooter (which is amazingly heavy) in a trailer behind another car. We got her in for lunch, but due to the flood and the cold, she decided (unhappily) that it would be better if she stayed in the building for the rest of the day. I felt awful for her, but she's a computer nut and was able to go play to her heart's content on a computer in the library.
And we lost, for the first time that I can remember, Field Day. Out of 30 possible points, we scored...are you ready....three.
That's three.
For coming in third place in Volleyball.
Out of three teams.
It was awful.
Saturday, April 28, 2007
Of Algae, S'Mores, Sunburns and Screaming 7th Graders - a Wrap up
So what did I learn from our field trip?
Quite a lot actually.
I learned that this generation of kids is not as familiar with the great outdoors as we are. I grew up in a city but I still had chances through scouting and visits to grandma's farm, to experience things like campfires and shooting stars and fishing. Many kids these days don't even get to go outside and play because there's no safe place to do so. I find this to be horribly sad.
I learned that many things we take for granted are new and different for these kids. It never occurred to me that there were kids who never had a s'more, who never sat by a campfire, who never rode a boat, or walked in the woods, or looked at a wildflower, or just sat looking at the sky at night.
I learned that I made the right decision to leave the corporate world and go into teaching because I never once got the type of satisfaction in business that I got from the look on a kid's face when he caught a crawdad in a net.
Moments that stuck in my mind:
Having a kid tell me that she's never had a s'more before and thanking us for giving her the chance to have one. (She loved it by the way).
Seventh grade girls like to play beauty shop just like we did. When I showed up in the dorm with my hair wet from having just washed it, they all wanted to comb it out and mess with it. I let them.
I had one girl tell me she couldn't remember the last time she actually ate three meals in one day. She was astonished at the amount of food she was given to eat. How sad that there are so many kids out there who consider three squares a day a rarity.
Looking out at the kids when I was telling ghost stories and watching the looks on their faces. I had them in the palm of my hand. Now if I could only do that every day in the classroom.
The look on the kid's faces when they put on their life vests and got on the boat nearly brought a tear to my eyes...their smiles were HUGE.
Watching the kids play with algae and realize that nature is fun, science is cool, and there's nothing so green as algae!
Watching one of my homeroom kids take off on the orienteering course like a gazelle let loose at the zoo. That was, by far, his favorite activity. I could give him a compass tomorrow and tell him to go find something and he'd be out the door.
So did it change the kids we took?
Yup. It did.
They seem a little more mature, a little more calm. They seemed to have found an inner strength in some respects. They take a little more pride in what they're doing.
I handed out progress reports this week and one of my homeroom kids that went on the trip needs to pull his grade up. I handed him his progress report and before I could say anything he said, "I can do a lot better than that." I agreed. "I know you can," I said. "Yeah, I know I can too," he said, and he smiled at me. He's never been that self-assured before.
Not one of them bragged about being able to go on the trip. They seemed to realize that what they received was something special but not something to use to lord it over their classmates who didn't go.
The most interesting thing is how they're relating to us, their teachers.
They don't swing by us and enter the room and then go chat with their friends. They're stopping. They're talking with us, asking us what's going on, how's the day going, what's new? They smile a lot more. I'll be doing a lesson and look up and find one of the kids from the trip looking at me, we'll lock eyes, and they'll smile. They won't look away. When class is over, kids who never once said a word are now saying "goodbye, see you tomorrow" before they leave. They're telling us about their day, about what they did at home, about a problem they're having with another kid or a class or just life in general.
One of the most amazing changes is in how some of the kids view Mr. Social Studies. He's not the warm, cuddly type of teacher - 26 years in law enforcement sort of erased any cuddliness he may have had at one time. He's a disciplinarian with high expectations and he's the teacher the kids love to hate. Later, after they've moved on to 8th grade and beyond they will sometimes come back and thank him for working them so hard and making them think, but during seventh grade most of the kids just can't stand him.
Except now the kids on the trip are bragging about how awesome he is. In my Third Period Class From the Very Depths of Hell Itself, one of the Losers made the mistake of making some sort of crack about Mr. Social Studies, which riled up some of the boys who were on our trip. They proceeded to inform everyone that Mr. Social Studies is truly awesome, that his class is cool, and if you would only pay attention you'd figure out how cool he is.
Amazing.
They're connecting.
The Principal has announced that her focus next year, and therefore the focus of our school, is going to be on building relationships. We did that this past weekend.
And it's created a little bit of magic for 32 kids and six grown ups.
And I'm glad we did it. So very, very glad.
Quite a lot actually.
I learned that this generation of kids is not as familiar with the great outdoors as we are. I grew up in a city but I still had chances through scouting and visits to grandma's farm, to experience things like campfires and shooting stars and fishing. Many kids these days don't even get to go outside and play because there's no safe place to do so. I find this to be horribly sad.
I learned that many things we take for granted are new and different for these kids. It never occurred to me that there were kids who never had a s'more, who never sat by a campfire, who never rode a boat, or walked in the woods, or looked at a wildflower, or just sat looking at the sky at night.
I learned that I made the right decision to leave the corporate world and go into teaching because I never once got the type of satisfaction in business that I got from the look on a kid's face when he caught a crawdad in a net.
Moments that stuck in my mind:
Having a kid tell me that she's never had a s'more before and thanking us for giving her the chance to have one. (She loved it by the way).
Seventh grade girls like to play beauty shop just like we did. When I showed up in the dorm with my hair wet from having just washed it, they all wanted to comb it out and mess with it. I let them.
I had one girl tell me she couldn't remember the last time she actually ate three meals in one day. She was astonished at the amount of food she was given to eat. How sad that there are so many kids out there who consider three squares a day a rarity.
Looking out at the kids when I was telling ghost stories and watching the looks on their faces. I had them in the palm of my hand. Now if I could only do that every day in the classroom.
The look on the kid's faces when they put on their life vests and got on the boat nearly brought a tear to my eyes...their smiles were HUGE.
Watching the kids play with algae and realize that nature is fun, science is cool, and there's nothing so green as algae!
Watching one of my homeroom kids take off on the orienteering course like a gazelle let loose at the zoo. That was, by far, his favorite activity. I could give him a compass tomorrow and tell him to go find something and he'd be out the door.
So did it change the kids we took?
Yup. It did.
They seem a little more mature, a little more calm. They seemed to have found an inner strength in some respects. They take a little more pride in what they're doing.
I handed out progress reports this week and one of my homeroom kids that went on the trip needs to pull his grade up. I handed him his progress report and before I could say anything he said, "I can do a lot better than that." I agreed. "I know you can," I said. "Yeah, I know I can too," he said, and he smiled at me. He's never been that self-assured before.
Not one of them bragged about being able to go on the trip. They seemed to realize that what they received was something special but not something to use to lord it over their classmates who didn't go.
The most interesting thing is how they're relating to us, their teachers.
They don't swing by us and enter the room and then go chat with their friends. They're stopping. They're talking with us, asking us what's going on, how's the day going, what's new? They smile a lot more. I'll be doing a lesson and look up and find one of the kids from the trip looking at me, we'll lock eyes, and they'll smile. They won't look away. When class is over, kids who never once said a word are now saying "goodbye, see you tomorrow" before they leave. They're telling us about their day, about what they did at home, about a problem they're having with another kid or a class or just life in general.
One of the most amazing changes is in how some of the kids view Mr. Social Studies. He's not the warm, cuddly type of teacher - 26 years in law enforcement sort of erased any cuddliness he may have had at one time. He's a disciplinarian with high expectations and he's the teacher the kids love to hate. Later, after they've moved on to 8th grade and beyond they will sometimes come back and thank him for working them so hard and making them think, but during seventh grade most of the kids just can't stand him.
Except now the kids on the trip are bragging about how awesome he is. In my Third Period Class From the Very Depths of Hell Itself, one of the Losers made the mistake of making some sort of crack about Mr. Social Studies, which riled up some of the boys who were on our trip. They proceeded to inform everyone that Mr. Social Studies is truly awesome, that his class is cool, and if you would only pay attention you'd figure out how cool he is.
Amazing.
They're connecting.
The Principal has announced that her focus next year, and therefore the focus of our school, is going to be on building relationships. We did that this past weekend.
And it's created a little bit of magic for 32 kids and six grown ups.
And I'm glad we did it. So very, very glad.
Of Algae, S'Mores, Sunburns and Screaming 7th Graders, Part V
On our last morning of camp, Coach decided to forgo the early morning exercise session for the boys and instead gave them another life lesson - on how to vacuum.
One of the rules at camp was that everyone had to help clean up and that included vacuuming the dining area after each meal. The kids weren't wild about this, but most of them figured out that the quicker they got it done the quicker they could go outside and mess around. Some of the boys, however, were overhead saying that they couldn't help because they didn't know how to vacuum.
Coach took care of that. He marched the boys to the dining hall, gave them each a section of floor, did a brief run through on how to operate a vacuum, and then they each had to complete their section before they could go outside. Another life lesson learned.
Each of our three groups had one more session to do before we packed up, cleaned the dorms, and left to go home. Our group finished the second part of the Challenge Course.
Challenge Courses go by different names, and different organizations operate them, but the basic idea is to have a group of people think outside the box to solve problems as a group. One of the goals of this trip was to develop some leadership skills in our students and this course was one of the tools we used to do this.
And it worked.
The group that I was with had a variety of different kids - boys and girls of different races, different backgrounds, different academic ability, and different economic levels. The only thing they really have in common is the fact that they have the same five teachers for seventh grade. Watching this team of twelve kids work together to solve a problem was fascinating. We saw a different side of these kids and they saw a different side of each other and of themselves.
I won't go into detail on what the course activities were (it would give away some of the solutions to the problems if I did), but suffice it to say that they were fun and challenging. The best part for Mrs. Language and I was listening to them talk with each other to solve the problems. They listened, made suggestions, tossed out ideas, tried things, regrouped when needed. It was amazing. What was almost as amazing is what didn't happen.
They didn't argue. They didn't criticize. They didn't disregard anyone's idea as "stupid". They didn't give up. They didn't call names. They didn't tease.
They were wonderful.
Mrs. Language looked at me at one point and whispered, "this is what it's all about." I couldn't agree more.
The rest of the morning was spent packing, cleaning, and loading up the bus. The kids were tuckered out, and so were the adults. The ride home was significantly quieter than the ride up. In fact, from our position in the front of the bus, we could look back and see 32 heads slumped against the seats, mouths open, eyes closed.
One of our girls roused herself and saw me looking back. "Mrs. Bluebird," she yelled over the noise, "can you tell us another ghost story?"
"Maybe some other time when it isn't so loud," I hollered back. She smiled, closed her eyes, and went to sleep.
We got back to school to find several parents already waiting for us. A few thanked us for giving them a weekend off, others thanked us for giving their kids the chance to do something new. Many of the kids gave us big hugs (and a handshake to Mr. Social Studies) and told us thank you.
It was an awesome experience for all of us. And we were somewhat sad to see it end.
I
One of the rules at camp was that everyone had to help clean up and that included vacuuming the dining area after each meal. The kids weren't wild about this, but most of them figured out that the quicker they got it done the quicker they could go outside and mess around. Some of the boys, however, were overhead saying that they couldn't help because they didn't know how to vacuum.
Coach took care of that. He marched the boys to the dining hall, gave them each a section of floor, did a brief run through on how to operate a vacuum, and then they each had to complete their section before they could go outside. Another life lesson learned.
Each of our three groups had one more session to do before we packed up, cleaned the dorms, and left to go home. Our group finished the second part of the Challenge Course.
Challenge Courses go by different names, and different organizations operate them, but the basic idea is to have a group of people think outside the box to solve problems as a group. One of the goals of this trip was to develop some leadership skills in our students and this course was one of the tools we used to do this.
And it worked.
The group that I was with had a variety of different kids - boys and girls of different races, different backgrounds, different academic ability, and different economic levels. The only thing they really have in common is the fact that they have the same five teachers for seventh grade. Watching this team of twelve kids work together to solve a problem was fascinating. We saw a different side of these kids and they saw a different side of each other and of themselves.
I won't go into detail on what the course activities were (it would give away some of the solutions to the problems if I did), but suffice it to say that they were fun and challenging. The best part for Mrs. Language and I was listening to them talk with each other to solve the problems. They listened, made suggestions, tossed out ideas, tried things, regrouped when needed. It was amazing. What was almost as amazing is what didn't happen.
They didn't argue. They didn't criticize. They didn't disregard anyone's idea as "stupid". They didn't give up. They didn't call names. They didn't tease.
They were wonderful.
Mrs. Language looked at me at one point and whispered, "this is what it's all about." I couldn't agree more.
The rest of the morning was spent packing, cleaning, and loading up the bus. The kids were tuckered out, and so were the adults. The ride home was significantly quieter than the ride up. In fact, from our position in the front of the bus, we could look back and see 32 heads slumped against the seats, mouths open, eyes closed.
One of our girls roused herself and saw me looking back. "Mrs. Bluebird," she yelled over the noise, "can you tell us another ghost story?"
"Maybe some other time when it isn't so loud," I hollered back. She smiled, closed her eyes, and went to sleep.
We got back to school to find several parents already waiting for us. A few thanked us for giving them a weekend off, others thanked us for giving their kids the chance to do something new. Many of the kids gave us big hugs (and a handshake to Mr. Social Studies) and told us thank you.
It was an awesome experience for all of us. And we were somewhat sad to see it end.
I
Friday, April 27, 2007
Where's the Common Sense When You Need it The Most?
It was Field Day today and during the volleyball tournament, Mrs. Language and I took a quick trip to the bathroom and mailboxes which are just behind guidance. We figured we'd better take the opportunity before we all headed outside and wouldn't get a chance. We'd be too busy trying to keep 425 seventh graders from losing their minds.
While we were there we noticed two of our troublemakers from last year sitting there, along with a boy that Mrs. Eagle had last year. They didn't look happy. In fact, they seemed to be squirming quite a bit in their seats. On of ours had his hands clasped tightly in his lap and seemed to be biting his lip. Fabio Boy was there and his feet were bouncing up and down.
I swung by to give the Guidance Goddess a greeting and to ask how her day was going. "Oh it's going great!" she exclaimed. "Come here and see all these referrals!" she says as she hands me one from the top and sort of backs me up around the corner into the teachers lounge. It's obvious she's trying to tell me something without the kids in the office figuring it out.
Mrs. Language comes up and we both look at the referral on the top stack. It's for one of our goofballs from last year. I look down at the incident description. "X disrupted the class due to putting Icy Hot on his genitals."
My eyes must have popped out of my head. I look over at Mrs. Language and her mouth is hanging open with one of those "What the hell?" looks on her face.
Guidance Goddess can barely contain herself. "Yup, they decided to go into the bathroom and put on some Icy Hot and by the time they got to class they were, ahem, feeling the pain."
Mrs. Language and I literally doubled up with silent laughter - the boys, after all, were right outside in the lobby. We both ended up wiping tears from our eyes. What on earth possessed them to do something so incredibly stupid???
So there they sat...
Squirming in their seats.
Tapping their feet.
And biting their lips.
Because that had to really, really, really hurt!
While we were there we noticed two of our troublemakers from last year sitting there, along with a boy that Mrs. Eagle had last year. They didn't look happy. In fact, they seemed to be squirming quite a bit in their seats. On of ours had his hands clasped tightly in his lap and seemed to be biting his lip. Fabio Boy was there and his feet were bouncing up and down.
I swung by to give the Guidance Goddess a greeting and to ask how her day was going. "Oh it's going great!" she exclaimed. "Come here and see all these referrals!" she says as she hands me one from the top and sort of backs me up around the corner into the teachers lounge. It's obvious she's trying to tell me something without the kids in the office figuring it out.
Mrs. Language comes up and we both look at the referral on the top stack. It's for one of our goofballs from last year. I look down at the incident description. "X disrupted the class due to putting Icy Hot on his genitals."
My eyes must have popped out of my head. I look over at Mrs. Language and her mouth is hanging open with one of those "What the hell?" looks on her face.
Guidance Goddess can barely contain herself. "Yup, they decided to go into the bathroom and put on some Icy Hot and by the time they got to class they were, ahem, feeling the pain."
Mrs. Language and I literally doubled up with silent laughter - the boys, after all, were right outside in the lobby. We both ended up wiping tears from our eyes. What on earth possessed them to do something so incredibly stupid???
So there they sat...
Squirming in their seats.
Tapping their feet.
And biting their lips.
Because that had to really, really, really hurt!
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Of Algae, S'mores, Sunburns and Screaming 7th Graders, Part IV
I love Mrs. Language. Mrs. Language brought along her own coffee pot so we could have coffee in our room. This is a girl who knows how to do mornings.
It's six in the morning, the girls are beginning to stir and Mrs. Language and I are in our jammies imbibing in the first cuppa of the day. The fact that we both tend to look like something chewed on our hair all night, had no make-up and were in our jammies was a fact not lost on our little darlings. They were just astounded and somewhat amazed that they saw their teachers - yes! - in jammies, with no make-up, with hair sticking out everywhere.
Whatever. They looked pretty goofy too.
Mrs. Language peers out the glass doors to see what the weather is looking like outside.
"Oh my gosh," she hisses. "You have got to see this!"
I go to the door and look out to see Mr. Social Studies, hands clasped behind him like a drill sergeant, watching our sixteen boys as Coach was leading them through calisthenics. They looked like sleepy little puppets as they flopped and jumped and staggered around in the early morning mist.
You had to love it. Apparently they woke the boys up at 5:30 that morning, rousted them out of their bunks, and put them through their paces.
And all that before breakfast!
After breakfast we broke into our three groups and sent each group off to work on their day's activities. I tagged along with Mrs. Language and the group that had the highest number of our loudest kids - including three kids from My Third Period Class From The Very Depths of Hell Itself (but definitely members of the Non-Loser Minority). Our first assignment that morning was the class on wilderness survival. They learned how to put together an emergency survival kit, what to do when if they get lost, and how to build a shelter. They then got to go outside to an area in the woods and actually build a shelter using branches and limbs. The girls got organized and working together built a very nice, study, and large shelter with very few openings for rain. They even pulled in a log or two to sit on as furniture, and put sunglasses on the roof to act as reflectors for search and rescue teams flying overhead.
The boys put together a circular shelter around a large tree that featured openings so they could shoot at serial killers and bears, but would also allow rain and snow to enter the shelter.
I think the boys play too many video games and watch way too many weird movies.
Our next assignment was the Lake Study (which was my second time around and even better this time). After lunch we did an orienteering course which was an eye opener for all of us. For some reason, maybe because these are only 7th graders, I had the impression that the orienteering course was going to be fairly easy.
I was wrong.
We all got instructions on how to use a compass, how to target your heading, find a point, and walk to it. We were then divided into teams of three kids per adult, and were each given a different colored map. The goal was to find six locations (painted coffee cans) in one hour and to punch our map with the puncher at each can.
And not get lost.
We went to the starting point, the ranger checked our headings and off we went. Up hills. Down hills. Up ridges. Down ravines. Over logs. Through thickets. Into bushes with stickers. Up more hills. Up even more hills.
I had to give my girls credit. They were troopers. We found our first two cans with little difficulty, but the third one was not being cooperative. By this time we had nearly emptied our water bottles, my bad knee (which I twisted slightly on the first day by nearly tripping over a backpack) was acting up, and my girls were starting to slow down a bit. We looked at our watches and decided we didn't have time to continue looking for the rest of the cans, so we found one of the hiking trails that would take us back to the rendezvous point and headed back.
And found the elusive third can off to our left a few paces down the trail. We must have walked by that stupid can a dozen times looking for it!
By this time it was mid-afternoon, hot, and the kids were whining about how they wanted to go swimming. However, we had the Stream Study to do, so we loaded them up in the van, and drove to a nearby stream where our guide handed us all nets and we began to look at the species of organisms that lived in this stream.
This meant taking off our shoes and socks, rolling up those pant legs, and wading into the stream. Some of the kids (and teachers, thank goodness) actually remembered to pack extra shoes that could get wet for this very reason. I'm glad I brought my shoes because the streambed was really rocky and I'm not exactly good at walking across sharp rocks.
The stream area itself was lovely with trees bending overhead with new growth on them, although many suffered horribly in our late hard frost of a few weeks ago. There were ferns and moss along the banks, and wildflowers scattered around. Pretty soon the kids were busy splashing in the water, finding crawdads and fish in their nets. It didn't take them long to get soaking wet, and they all looked like bedraggled refugees from a disaster film. They had an absolute blast, however, and were such great little scientists. We spent well over an hour working our way up and down the stream, and we had a fantastic time. Kids who hadn't really been friends before the trip were now bent over a net checking out the crawdads, rocks and plant life they'd caught.
I was certain that they'd be beat by the time we returned to camp, but they weren't. In the hour to kill before supper they went out and played basketball, picked up rocks by the lake, and tossed a football around.
After supper, as soon as it got dark, we had a campfire for them and made s'mores. They decided to cap off the evening by a game of night tag where they ran around in the semi-dark (there were parking lot lights nearby) and chased each other silly.
But they weren't worn out yet.
Some of the girls wanted me to tell them ghost stories, and we ended up (I don't remember how) in a seating area in the conference center. I've collected ghost books and ghost stories for years and even do a ghost talk on Civil War ghosts for Civil War roundtables, so I was able to pull out a lot of these stories from my memory. I started with four girls, and pretty soon I looked up and nearly all the kids were there.
Listening.
Quietly.
Intently.
I'd stop a story and they'd yell, "tell another one!" and I'd remember another one to tell them. Of course, seeing as how most of them were Civil War ghost stories I had to throw in a history lesson as well, so they may have actually learned something. I finally ran out of stories, it was late, and we all wandered back to the dorms to go to bed.
The boys were dragging their feet and were asleep within minutes.
The girls, darn them, had hit a second wind and we didn't get them settled down until nearly midnight.
One more day to go...Boo!
It's six in the morning, the girls are beginning to stir and Mrs. Language and I are in our jammies imbibing in the first cuppa of the day. The fact that we both tend to look like something chewed on our hair all night, had no make-up and were in our jammies was a fact not lost on our little darlings. They were just astounded and somewhat amazed that they saw their teachers - yes! - in jammies, with no make-up, with hair sticking out everywhere.
Whatever. They looked pretty goofy too.
Mrs. Language peers out the glass doors to see what the weather is looking like outside.
"Oh my gosh," she hisses. "You have got to see this!"
I go to the door and look out to see Mr. Social Studies, hands clasped behind him like a drill sergeant, watching our sixteen boys as Coach was leading them through calisthenics. They looked like sleepy little puppets as they flopped and jumped and staggered around in the early morning mist.
You had to love it. Apparently they woke the boys up at 5:30 that morning, rousted them out of their bunks, and put them through their paces.
And all that before breakfast!
After breakfast we broke into our three groups and sent each group off to work on their day's activities. I tagged along with Mrs. Language and the group that had the highest number of our loudest kids - including three kids from My Third Period Class From The Very Depths of Hell Itself (but definitely members of the Non-Loser Minority). Our first assignment that morning was the class on wilderness survival. They learned how to put together an emergency survival kit, what to do when if they get lost, and how to build a shelter. They then got to go outside to an area in the woods and actually build a shelter using branches and limbs. The girls got organized and working together built a very nice, study, and large shelter with very few openings for rain. They even pulled in a log or two to sit on as furniture, and put sunglasses on the roof to act as reflectors for search and rescue teams flying overhead.
The boys put together a circular shelter around a large tree that featured openings so they could shoot at serial killers and bears, but would also allow rain and snow to enter the shelter.
I think the boys play too many video games and watch way too many weird movies.
Our next assignment was the Lake Study (which was my second time around and even better this time). After lunch we did an orienteering course which was an eye opener for all of us. For some reason, maybe because these are only 7th graders, I had the impression that the orienteering course was going to be fairly easy.
I was wrong.
We all got instructions on how to use a compass, how to target your heading, find a point, and walk to it. We were then divided into teams of three kids per adult, and were each given a different colored map. The goal was to find six locations (painted coffee cans) in one hour and to punch our map with the puncher at each can.
And not get lost.
We went to the starting point, the ranger checked our headings and off we went. Up hills. Down hills. Up ridges. Down ravines. Over logs. Through thickets. Into bushes with stickers. Up more hills. Up even more hills.
I had to give my girls credit. They were troopers. We found our first two cans with little difficulty, but the third one was not being cooperative. By this time we had nearly emptied our water bottles, my bad knee (which I twisted slightly on the first day by nearly tripping over a backpack) was acting up, and my girls were starting to slow down a bit. We looked at our watches and decided we didn't have time to continue looking for the rest of the cans, so we found one of the hiking trails that would take us back to the rendezvous point and headed back.
And found the elusive third can off to our left a few paces down the trail. We must have walked by that stupid can a dozen times looking for it!
By this time it was mid-afternoon, hot, and the kids were whining about how they wanted to go swimming. However, we had the Stream Study to do, so we loaded them up in the van, and drove to a nearby stream where our guide handed us all nets and we began to look at the species of organisms that lived in this stream.
This meant taking off our shoes and socks, rolling up those pant legs, and wading into the stream. Some of the kids (and teachers, thank goodness) actually remembered to pack extra shoes that could get wet for this very reason. I'm glad I brought my shoes because the streambed was really rocky and I'm not exactly good at walking across sharp rocks.
The stream area itself was lovely with trees bending overhead with new growth on them, although many suffered horribly in our late hard frost of a few weeks ago. There were ferns and moss along the banks, and wildflowers scattered around. Pretty soon the kids were busy splashing in the water, finding crawdads and fish in their nets. It didn't take them long to get soaking wet, and they all looked like bedraggled refugees from a disaster film. They had an absolute blast, however, and were such great little scientists. We spent well over an hour working our way up and down the stream, and we had a fantastic time. Kids who hadn't really been friends before the trip were now bent over a net checking out the crawdads, rocks and plant life they'd caught.
I was certain that they'd be beat by the time we returned to camp, but they weren't. In the hour to kill before supper they went out and played basketball, picked up rocks by the lake, and tossed a football around.
After supper, as soon as it got dark, we had a campfire for them and made s'mores. They decided to cap off the evening by a game of night tag where they ran around in the semi-dark (there were parking lot lights nearby) and chased each other silly.
But they weren't worn out yet.
Some of the girls wanted me to tell them ghost stories, and we ended up (I don't remember how) in a seating area in the conference center. I've collected ghost books and ghost stories for years and even do a ghost talk on Civil War ghosts for Civil War roundtables, so I was able to pull out a lot of these stories from my memory. I started with four girls, and pretty soon I looked up and nearly all the kids were there.
Listening.
Quietly.
Intently.
I'd stop a story and they'd yell, "tell another one!" and I'd remember another one to tell them. Of course, seeing as how most of them were Civil War ghost stories I had to throw in a history lesson as well, so they may have actually learned something. I finally ran out of stories, it was late, and we all wandered back to the dorms to go to bed.
The boys were dragging their feet and were asleep within minutes.
The girls, darn them, had hit a second wind and we didn't get them settled down until nearly midnight.
One more day to go...Boo!
Monday, April 23, 2007
Of Algae, S'mores, Sunburns, and Screaming 7th Graders Part I
Our goal, when we came up with this wild idea of a "wilderness weekend", was to provide our students, many of them from broken and/or low income homes, with opportunities to do things they've never had the chance to do before. It was a lot of work putting it together, and Mrs. Language, bless her heart, did the bulk of it and did a fantastic job with it. We had the full support of The Principal because she believes that anything we do that is child-centered, that will help our kids, is a good thing.
Still, many people, including us, thought we might be just a little bit crazy.
And at 10:30 on Friday morning, in a bus full of screaming 7th graders, we thought they just may be right.
We weren't due to check in to the camp until around 3:00 pm, so we had time to do a tour of an 1850's homestead nearby. We broke the kids into two groups and toured the farm, which was a fairly new experience for many of them. Big revelation for them was that there wasn't any indoor plumbing, and hence no bathroom. The lesson that at 13, most of them would already know how to run their own household or farm was a big eye-opener for them as well. Many of them thought that the oxen were pretty impressive because they were so big and the sheep were also high on the popularity list.
We had brought along sack lunches which we ate there in a picnic area along side a little creek.
Lunch was gobbled down and pretty soon half the kids were wading through the creek while the other half had put together a football game using an apple as a ball. I've spent most of the year looking at these kids in a classroom so it was a real change to see them outside playing. First thing that occurred to me was how much energy these kids had to burn. It was almost exhausting just watching them yell and run and scream and jump.
We made it to camp on time, checked in at the desk, got the keys to the dorms and prepared to move everyone in. The kids were waiting, bags and sleeping bags on the ground, bouncing around, eager to get going. We gave the all clear to move into the dorms and the stampede down the hill to the dorms was a sight to see. I found out later that they were running to be the first to get a top bunk. It probably took them sixty seconds to get everything moved in. Bags flew, sleeping bags unrolled, kids screamed and giggled and laughed!
Funny, but at my age, I would have been running to get a bottom bunk!
It's late now, and I'm still not recovered, so I'll sign off. More to come!
Still, many people, including us, thought we might be just a little bit crazy.
And at 10:30 on Friday morning, in a bus full of screaming 7th graders, we thought they just may be right.
We weren't due to check in to the camp until around 3:00 pm, so we had time to do a tour of an 1850's homestead nearby. We broke the kids into two groups and toured the farm, which was a fairly new experience for many of them. Big revelation for them was that there wasn't any indoor plumbing, and hence no bathroom. The lesson that at 13, most of them would already know how to run their own household or farm was a big eye-opener for them as well. Many of them thought that the oxen were pretty impressive because they were so big and the sheep were also high on the popularity list.
We had brought along sack lunches which we ate there in a picnic area along side a little creek.
Lunch was gobbled down and pretty soon half the kids were wading through the creek while the other half had put together a football game using an apple as a ball. I've spent most of the year looking at these kids in a classroom so it was a real change to see them outside playing. First thing that occurred to me was how much energy these kids had to burn. It was almost exhausting just watching them yell and run and scream and jump.
We made it to camp on time, checked in at the desk, got the keys to the dorms and prepared to move everyone in. The kids were waiting, bags and sleeping bags on the ground, bouncing around, eager to get going. We gave the all clear to move into the dorms and the stampede down the hill to the dorms was a sight to see. I found out later that they were running to be the first to get a top bunk. It probably took them sixty seconds to get everything moved in. Bags flew, sleeping bags unrolled, kids screamed and giggled and laughed!
Funny, but at my age, I would have been running to get a bottom bunk!
It's late now, and I'm still not recovered, so I'll sign off. More to come!
A Small Victory for the Non-Losers
If you recall, my Third Period Class From the Very Depths of Hell Itself, has sort of divided itself into two camps, the so-called Losers (the kids who constantly are causing trouble) and the Non-Losers (the ones who actually are trying to learn). Recently the Non-Losers got fed up and began asking me if there was anyway I could arrange to have the Non-Losers expelled, transferred, and so forth. One particular target was Cast Boy, probably the most annoying oxygen-thief in the room.
They gained a small victory today.
Towards the very end of class, I was showing a few pictures of our camping trip when one of the kids, Toeless Boy, recognized the conference center in the pictures.
"Hey, that's from my church camp!" he said. No one responded so Toeless Boy, who thrives on any type of attention, even negative, decided to say it again. After all, this is a kid who was born without one big toe, wears sandals (the only boy on the team who does) and then complains that the kids are picking on him because he only has one big toe. No one responds, so for the third time he proclaims that it looks like his church camp.
"Oh shut up!" yells Cast Boy.
One of the things that I don't tolerate is kids telling each other to shut up. So I got after Cast Boy about it.
And Cast Boy wanted to argue.
And argue some more.
And I warned him that it wasn't open for discussion and he needed to watch his mouth and be quiet.
So he argued that point as well.
So I wrote him a referral which he absolutely refused to sign.
By this point I'm secretly smiling inside because this could be worth maybe a day in ISS. That's a day without this rude, obnoxious twerp ruining it for everyone. I walked it over to the Enforcer, reminded him of my special Third Period Rules, and he said he'd handle it. In the meantime, Mrs. Language reported that many of these same kids entered her 4th period class all a-twitter because I'd written Cast Boy up. They were discussing the fact that maybe he'd get in trouble and would be out of class for a while.
The Enforcer granted their wish. Cast Boy is in ISS for a week.
The other kids will be ecstatic.
They gained a small victory today.
Towards the very end of class, I was showing a few pictures of our camping trip when one of the kids, Toeless Boy, recognized the conference center in the pictures.
"Hey, that's from my church camp!" he said. No one responded so Toeless Boy, who thrives on any type of attention, even negative, decided to say it again. After all, this is a kid who was born without one big toe, wears sandals (the only boy on the team who does) and then complains that the kids are picking on him because he only has one big toe. No one responds, so for the third time he proclaims that it looks like his church camp.
"Oh shut up!" yells Cast Boy.
One of the things that I don't tolerate is kids telling each other to shut up. So I got after Cast Boy about it.
And Cast Boy wanted to argue.
And argue some more.
And I warned him that it wasn't open for discussion and he needed to watch his mouth and be quiet.
So he argued that point as well.
So I wrote him a referral which he absolutely refused to sign.
By this point I'm secretly smiling inside because this could be worth maybe a day in ISS. That's a day without this rude, obnoxious twerp ruining it for everyone. I walked it over to the Enforcer, reminded him of my special Third Period Rules, and he said he'd handle it. In the meantime, Mrs. Language reported that many of these same kids entered her 4th period class all a-twitter because I'd written Cast Boy up. They were discussing the fact that maybe he'd get in trouble and would be out of class for a while.
The Enforcer granted their wish. Cast Boy is in ISS for a week.
The other kids will be ecstatic.
Sunday, April 22, 2007
Of Algae, S'mores, Sunburns, and Screaming 7th Graders
This past fall our team got the bright idea that it would be really great if we could take our kids to a local national forest area for a camping weekend. Actually, it's not camping with tents (there's dorms and showers and even food service) but it's in the woods, by a lake, and it offers some great educational opportunities. Due to space, and finances, we couldn't take the entire team (and truth be told, there were a few kids we didn't want to be out in the woods with), so we had to narrow it down to 32 kids - sixteen boys and sixteen girls. We had them write an essay about why they should go and were looking for leadership ability, kids who may not be the top students but who had shown some growth and maturity, and kids who could use a weekend with some positive role models. In short, kids we were hoping would turn out to be leaders in the 8th grade.
Many people thought we were crazy. At times, we agreed. But we'd made the commitment, the plans were made, the kids were hyped up.
This was the weekend.
We left at 10:00 am on Friday and returned at 2:00 pm on Sunday.
For the mathematically challenged, that is 52 hours - straight - with 32 seventh graders.
I am exhausted.
More to come...as I am going to bed.
Many people thought we were crazy. At times, we agreed. But we'd made the commitment, the plans were made, the kids were hyped up.
This was the weekend.
We left at 10:00 am on Friday and returned at 2:00 pm on Sunday.
For the mathematically challenged, that is 52 hours - straight - with 32 seventh graders.
I am exhausted.
More to come...as I am going to bed.
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