Priorities

I opened up my email program at school at 6:20 Monday morning to find this:

"Clever Boy's father called to let us know that his mother was killed in Afghanistan last week.  He won't be at school for a few days and would like you to collect work for him."

This sucks on so many levels.

One of the hazards of working in a building that serves a lot of military kids is that the odds will eventually catch up with you and you'll get a message like this.  That doesn't make it any easier.  And the fact that it isn't the first makes it suck even more.

So, we got together work for Clever Boy but I really don't care if he turns it in or not.  He has other things to deal with that are lot more important than a writing prompt and a set of workbook pages on states of matter.  Mr. Math actually talked with Clever Boy's Dad (who is divorced from Clever Boy's mom) and it was obvious that this has hit the family hard (despite the divorce) and that they need to deal with this before we need to worry about school.

So, the week after we finished The Very Bid Deal Government Mandated Test, I'm struck with the realization that although the government makes a big deal over the damn test, and everyone is so obsessed with the damn test, that when you really get down to it, IT ISN'T WHAT REALLY MATTERS.  (Although 50% of my evaluation of a teacher is now based on this damn test.)

What really matters is that we take care of our kids.

What really matters is that we are here when a kid loses his mom.

What really matters is that when a kid needs a shoulder to cry on, we're here.

What really matters is that when a dad is choked up about losing his ex-wife in the line of duty, we're here.

What really matters is that we are here, taking care of many of the kids that society doesn't really care about because they're poor, or have disabilities, or their parents have issues, or no one really cares about them at home.  We are here for them.

What really matters is that we try to do whatever we can to get these kids to grow up to be decent human beings with the skills to take care of themselves and have a happy life.

We just don't teach these kids about science, or social studies, or math, or reading, or whatever.

We're teaching them to be good people.  And it's a damn hard job.  And no freaking test is ever going to measure that.

Gifts for Angels, Hot Cocoa, and Horns!

It's actually been, amazingly, a pretty good week. Perhaps it was because the kids, for whatever reason, lost their minds last week. When The Principal tells you that it's been the sort of week where she wanted to toss her purse up on her arm and walk out the building, you know it's a bad week. In between the 13 eighth grade girls who got busted with slam books (the contents of which were described as "disgusting beyond belief"), the bipolar student who threatened suicide and attempted to run away, and the chaos of the holidays and basketball season, it was a doozy. Which is why this week, which was oddly calm, was so nice.

A few weeks ago my third period (which is also my advisory class), decided that they wanted to adopt one of our angel families. Angel families are the families that we help out at the holidays with Christmas gifts and food; they all have at least one member of the family that attends our school. Every year the student council, various clubs, the PTO, the faculty and staff, local churches and other groups put together Christmas for well over 100 families. It is quite an undertaking, but the amount of good that it does for the community is beyond measure. In any case, I was talking up the canned food drive when some of the kids said they wanted to bring in cans but they really wanted to have a family to shop for. We had a pretty serious discussion about commitment, (I wasn't going to get stuck holding the bag, in other words), and they voted and decided they really wanted to do it.

To say I was impressed with these kids is an understatement.

I went to guidance and got our family, which had three boys, ages 7, 10 and 14. We knew their first names, sizes, and wishes. I sent out a letter to the parents to let them know what the kids were doing, and stressing that even a single dollar would be welcome. (I had noticed that at least two of my students in that class were actually members of Angel Families themselves.) The toys, clothes, and gift cards began to arrive and this week we spent two days wrapping them all up. I couldn't believe it! We had over 30 packages for our family! It was amazing! The kids, who can't wrap much better than I can, had a blast, and we all trooped over to guidance to deliver our packages. It was nice to hear the kids' conversations this week as they talked about buying presents for other people, and not just conversations about what they wanted. We had a fun discussion on how good it feels to do something for other people, and many of them agreed that they tended to be a bit selfish. They did good.

We had pizza and a movie for the Military Support Group this week where, in addition to pizza, we offered a shoulder to one girl whose boyfriend had broken up with her that day. I loved seeing these kids, who all have a parent deployed, rally around her and help boost her up and get over the sobbing. Halfway through the afternoon she was giggling, eating pizza, and playing with a Rubik's cube. Mamma's Girl was there, and was beaming as she'd heard from mom earlier that week. Another girl got a wake up call that morning and it was her Daddy who she hadn't heard from in three months. She said it was the best day ever and the pizza was just icing on the cake!

The Christmas Store was open again this year although it may be the last year. Our very active PTO mothers are moving on to High School this next fall and there doesn't appear to be any go-getters to fill their shoes. Stocking the Christmas Store is a lot of work and requires a lot of manpower (to go to the clearance sales and buy the stuff at dirt low prices, wrap it up so it looks nice, and to man the store), plus storage. It's such a great thing for the kids, however, and many of them would come up to me with a dollar in their hand and ask permission to go to the Christmas store. Talk about empowering.

Today was a half day which can be hell on earth. It was, however, the nicest day before break we've ever had. For one, we had a lot of kids absent. I think because Christmas is during the beginning of the week, rather than the end, that many people headed out of town early. Usually we have a few absent, but today we had a lot. I think maybe ten kids showed up in my homeroom (then again, I have one suspended, one in alternative school, and one in the hospital).

After a locker clean out, the annual student/teacher volleyball game was held and I had volunteered to watch the kids who didn't get to go (admission is two canned food items for the canned food drive). I had color pages, suduko puzzles, and crosswords ready to go. They came in, sat down, colored, listened to Christmas music and were so well-behaved (surprising considering some of the characters that were there) that I was able to get all their tests graded from the day before (and they did well!)

Earlier in the week we had the kids sign up for what they wanted to do during the half day - they had a choice of game room, or three movies. The kids fixed a plate of food (many had brought in bags of chips and cookies) and went to their assigned room. They did great. They were well behaved, didn't spill anything, and weren't running around being pills. I had bought hot chocolate mix the other night (on sale for a dollar!) and made some using the microwave in my room (we had some team money to use up or lose so we bought a frig and microwave; it's in my room so we can use the excuse that I need it for science labs). The kids loved the hot chocolate and sat and watched Shrek 2 (they sang along to the songs and actually recited all the dialog which was a bit cute and freaky at the same time).

Then at the magic hour, 10:45, the bus riders were dismissed and those of us who had walkers in our rooms headed out to wave the buses goodbye. Waving the buses goodbye takes place two times a year - before Christmas break and the last day of school. It is one of my favorite traditions, and we got to introduce it to our new teachers this year. Mrs. Language loved it - she had never seen anything like it. It really is something...as the buses start to roll out (pretty impressive anyway, considering how many roll by), the drivers lay on the horns and the kids wave at those of us along the sidewalk who are waving back at them and yelling! It's a great way to end the first semester.

And now...two weeks of rest and relaxation!

Birthday Girl

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

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

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

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

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

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.