Rudeboy is most likely one of the rudest, most unlikeable kids we've ever had in our classrooms. He's huge...if you saw him walking in the mall, you'd think he was probably in high school, not seventh grade. He has to be well over 6' tall and he's just turned 13. He has a weight problem as well, and the corresponding health issues. You want to feel sorry for him, but it's nearly impossible to do so.
Sadly, he's also lazy, sneaky, and just plain mean. I've never seen a kid who can blatantly lie like this one. You can watch him walk across a classroom and see him slap a kid on the back of the head and he will deny it until the cows come home, and call you a liar in the meantime. He'll even deny it when the security tape shows him doing it. He will argue, yell out, and generally disrupt your class if he feels like it. His usual tactic will be to scream, "So and So's picking on me!", right in the middle of a lesson. He will run to an administrator every day to complain about a student picking on him, a teacher picking on him, a janitor picking on him, you name it.
However, that being said, this is the same kid who will walk down the hall and yell vulgarities at other students, call them names, threaten them, kick them while they're at their locker, so on and so forth. He's the classic case of the kid who got bullied so much he's turned into the biggest one on the block. I caught him doing it - again - on the way back from lunch on Monday and, amazingly enough he even admitted it. I said, for what seems like the 100th time, that I don't understand why he will complain about people teasing him and then he does the same thing to other kids. He then said he never complained about other students, which was kind of ironic as he'd written another formal complaint against one of them that morning. He is mean, and vicious, and the kids are somewhat intimated by him.
Today he was, as usual, upset with everyone and was running off his mouth, calling names, and being his usual unpleasant self. Mr. Social Studies and I were watching the kids in the hallway in between classes when we noticed an uproar across the circle by a drinking fountain and heard, "fight!". We took off and found Rudeboy sobbing and blubbering in a corner, with a gash across his head. Mr. Social Studies took him to the nurse while I got the name of the other kid from the witnesses, got him out of math, sent him to guidance, and got an administrator. Fortunately Mrs. Language watched my kids as well as Mr. Social Studies' kids while this was going on.
So what happened? (Thank goodness for security cameras.) It appears that Rudeboy mouthed off to the wrong kid, one with a cast on his arm. Rudeboy chases him down, most likely to make more rude and snotty comments, and the other kid got fed up and clocked him with the cast, thereby cutting open Rudeboy's head.
The fact that Castboy is half of Rudeboy's size made it a little more interesting.
Hopefully, Rudeboy will learn something from this, although I doubt it. I'm sure he'll come back from his suspension as rude and mean as he was before.
Thursday, February 08, 2007
Wednesday, February 07, 2007
A day in the life of a middle school
5:45 am...Mrs. Eagle arrives at school and discovers that her snake, a 3 foot plus ball python has escaped over night. The search begins.
7:15 am...We get an email from a parent indicating that she's upset that someone called her husband regarding her son who was getting suspended for 5 days. Apparently there's a nasty divorce pending and we should have known not to call him. News to everyone, especially as the kid was the one who suggested we call dad since no one could find mom, and dad's name is on the emergency card. Dad, by the way, was stunned that kid was being suspended as his soon to be ex-wife and son had informed him that everyone was just peachy this year. He was also apparently in the dark about the five classes son is failing.
7:25 am...Mrs. Eagle puts out a "lost snake email" to the entire staff. As she hits the send button she happens to look up at the clock and spies a little snakey head peeking out from behind the number three. She promptly sends out a "snake found" email. Many sighs of relief from those who don't like slithery things.
9:30 am...I notice that a student, one of the kids from our Emotionally Disturbed unit who's usually not a problem, has a laser pointer with him. This is absolutely forbidden so I take it from him and tell him that his mom can come pick it up at the front office later today. He goes into melt down, tells me to "eff you", and then demands that I pay him $2 for it. At this point I nearly start laughing because it's so ridiculous (not the response he expected, I'm sure). I end up having to have him removed (which took two people) and Mrs. Squirrel said he went into a complete tailspin and total meltown in her office. Apparently the root of the problem was that he knew his mother wouldn't come pick it up as she had told him he wasn't supposed to have one in the first place. He's suspended now.
10:50 am...Lunch. Our kids nearly drove the cafeteria monitor, Miss Lovely, into a psychotic rage yesterday with accusations of food fights. They were informed that unless they wanted to eat in the classrooms, they better be writing us anonymous notes telling on the kids that were doing the tossing, because "you're just as guilty if you see someone do something wrong and don't tell." Eight names keep popping up and they got to spend lunch with Mr. Enforcer. The others had assigned seating. They whined and whimpered all through lunch. Some of those with Mr. Enforcer cried. It wasn't pleasant, I'm sure.
1:05 pm...The Guidance Goddess does her computer check of the local bookings put out by the sherrif's office and discovered that one of our mothers was arrested last night for violating an order of protection. She was also arrested for same thing and DUI last week. Her son, FluBoy (he loves to borrow all of my books about disease and loved the one on the 1918 flu epidemic) was out today as he was supposed to be at the court date for mom and dad's divorce. Something tells me that it was probably pretty ugly. I hope FluBoy is okay.
1:15 pm....We spot Fabio Boy and Stoopid Boy sitting in guidance. Apparently someone set off a stink bomb in the 8th grade hallway and all fingers pointed to these two critters. Knowing these two from last year...we're guessing Fabio Boy (sneaky little twerp) talked Stoopid Boy into doing it and now he's taking the fall. Regardless, Stoopid Boy stormed out of guidance and had to be fetched by Guidance Goober before he didn't something, well, stupid.
Oh, and we did some teaching here and there as well. I think.
7:15 am...We get an email from a parent indicating that she's upset that someone called her husband regarding her son who was getting suspended for 5 days. Apparently there's a nasty divorce pending and we should have known not to call him. News to everyone, especially as the kid was the one who suggested we call dad since no one could find mom, and dad's name is on the emergency card. Dad, by the way, was stunned that kid was being suspended as his soon to be ex-wife and son had informed him that everyone was just peachy this year. He was also apparently in the dark about the five classes son is failing.
7:25 am...Mrs. Eagle puts out a "lost snake email" to the entire staff. As she hits the send button she happens to look up at the clock and spies a little snakey head peeking out from behind the number three. She promptly sends out a "snake found" email. Many sighs of relief from those who don't like slithery things.
9:30 am...I notice that a student, one of the kids from our Emotionally Disturbed unit who's usually not a problem, has a laser pointer with him. This is absolutely forbidden so I take it from him and tell him that his mom can come pick it up at the front office later today. He goes into melt down, tells me to "eff you", and then demands that I pay him $2 for it. At this point I nearly start laughing because it's so ridiculous (not the response he expected, I'm sure). I end up having to have him removed (which took two people) and Mrs. Squirrel said he went into a complete tailspin and total meltown in her office. Apparently the root of the problem was that he knew his mother wouldn't come pick it up as she had told him he wasn't supposed to have one in the first place. He's suspended now.
10:50 am...Lunch. Our kids nearly drove the cafeteria monitor, Miss Lovely, into a psychotic rage yesterday with accusations of food fights. They were informed that unless they wanted to eat in the classrooms, they better be writing us anonymous notes telling on the kids that were doing the tossing, because "you're just as guilty if you see someone do something wrong and don't tell." Eight names keep popping up and they got to spend lunch with Mr. Enforcer. The others had assigned seating. They whined and whimpered all through lunch. Some of those with Mr. Enforcer cried. It wasn't pleasant, I'm sure.
1:05 pm...The Guidance Goddess does her computer check of the local bookings put out by the sherrif's office and discovered that one of our mothers was arrested last night for violating an order of protection. She was also arrested for same thing and DUI last week. Her son, FluBoy (he loves to borrow all of my books about disease and loved the one on the 1918 flu epidemic) was out today as he was supposed to be at the court date for mom and dad's divorce. Something tells me that it was probably pretty ugly. I hope FluBoy is okay.
1:15 pm....We spot Fabio Boy and Stoopid Boy sitting in guidance. Apparently someone set off a stink bomb in the 8th grade hallway and all fingers pointed to these two critters. Knowing these two from last year...we're guessing Fabio Boy (sneaky little twerp) talked Stoopid Boy into doing it and now he's taking the fall. Regardless, Stoopid Boy stormed out of guidance and had to be fetched by Guidance Goober before he didn't something, well, stupid.
Oh, and we did some teaching here and there as well. I think.
Sunday, February 04, 2007
Just a little flake here and there...
On Wednesday the television weathercasters were forecasting snow in epic proportions. (Well, okay, epic for this part of the country means about 2", but still...) And not only snow, but ice, sleet, freezing rain, the entire bag of Mother Nature's tricks. The kids at school that day were just besides themselves with glee because, with a 100% forecast (as per the National Weather Service website), they just knew we wouldn't have school on Thursday. The teachers were pretty gleeful as well because this time of year a snow day really comes in handy.
So we get up on Thursday, eagerly look outside and see...a dusting. Barely.
Counties left and right and north and south of us close for the day but we, sitting in the middle of a weird meterological pocket of nothing, didn't.
The kids came in, scowled, slumped in their seats and whined and whimpered all day about the Snow Day That Wasn't. We did, however, have about 11% absent that day, so it seemed a bit surreal. It's really strange when you're used to a class of 25 and only about 15 show up. The flu and strep has been hitting the area pretty hard and some of the school districts around us have actually closed for illness. We've had kids out sick earlier in the week, come back too early, then out again. The sounds of sniffling and coughing are fairly pronounced in the classroom.
So Thursday rolls by and the weather for Friday predicts a slight chance of flurries and maybe a snow shower or two. Definitely nothing to get excited about. The kids aren't even hoping for a snow day. Why bother?
Friday morning I get up at 4:40 am, look outside and it's white! And still snowing! And the news verifies that yes, we're actually closed for the day!
Mrs. Math calls me to make sure that I knew we were closed and mentions that she wasn't expecting this at all, so she didn't bring anything home with her. Neither did I. I wasn't expecting it either. Probably the first three day weekend I've had where I didn't bring work home. Now that's surreal.
So we get up on Thursday, eagerly look outside and see...a dusting. Barely.
Counties left and right and north and south of us close for the day but we, sitting in the middle of a weird meterological pocket of nothing, didn't.
The kids came in, scowled, slumped in their seats and whined and whimpered all day about the Snow Day That Wasn't. We did, however, have about 11% absent that day, so it seemed a bit surreal. It's really strange when you're used to a class of 25 and only about 15 show up. The flu and strep has been hitting the area pretty hard and some of the school districts around us have actually closed for illness. We've had kids out sick earlier in the week, come back too early, then out again. The sounds of sniffling and coughing are fairly pronounced in the classroom.
So Thursday rolls by and the weather for Friday predicts a slight chance of flurries and maybe a snow shower or two. Definitely nothing to get excited about. The kids aren't even hoping for a snow day. Why bother?
Friday morning I get up at 4:40 am, look outside and it's white! And still snowing! And the news verifies that yes, we're actually closed for the day!
Mrs. Math calls me to make sure that I knew we were closed and mentions that she wasn't expecting this at all, so she didn't bring anything home with her. Neither did I. I wasn't expecting it either. Probably the first three day weekend I've had where I didn't bring work home. Now that's surreal.
Monday, January 29, 2007
Tournament Time!
It's basketball tournament time!!!
We aren't hosting the tournament this year so a bunch of us hoofed it down to the far reaches of the district to another middle school for the first series of games tonight. It's always a fun time with fairly large crowds (this is middle school after all, not college or even high school) and a lot of excitement. We all went tonight because, quite honestly, we weren't all that sure our teams would make it past the first round. They haven't had the best year this year, although our new boys' coach has made some huge strides with the guys - no more street ball like they're used to playing. They're playing like a team.
In fact, they got lucky and the first team they played with the one with the worst record. By the third quarter they were up by nearly 30 points. At this point Coach pulled the guys aside and made some lineup changes.
He put in the sixth graders.
Now we're talking little guys. Really little guys. Little guys who have a lot of heart, but spend most of the time on the bench because they're, well, little guys and they're only sixth graders. They have the next few years to mature into better ball players. And maybe grow a foot or two.
So Coach has the team huddled together and gives them the news. The two littlest let lose with these smiles that just light up the gym. They were playing! And they played their hearts out. They each got to try a couple of baskets (missed, but who cares?) and I was impressed that the bigger/older guys made a point to feed these two the ball. They ran and blocked and jumped and had the time of their lives.
What made it even sweeter? The rival coach realized that his team wasn't going to catch up so he did the same thing. Pretty soon the floor was full of little guys having the time of their lives.
And the crowd loved it.
We aren't hosting the tournament this year so a bunch of us hoofed it down to the far reaches of the district to another middle school for the first series of games tonight. It's always a fun time with fairly large crowds (this is middle school after all, not college or even high school) and a lot of excitement. We all went tonight because, quite honestly, we weren't all that sure our teams would make it past the first round. They haven't had the best year this year, although our new boys' coach has made some huge strides with the guys - no more street ball like they're used to playing. They're playing like a team.
In fact, they got lucky and the first team they played with the one with the worst record. By the third quarter they were up by nearly 30 points. At this point Coach pulled the guys aside and made some lineup changes.
He put in the sixth graders.
Now we're talking little guys. Really little guys. Little guys who have a lot of heart, but spend most of the time on the bench because they're, well, little guys and they're only sixth graders. They have the next few years to mature into better ball players. And maybe grow a foot or two.
So Coach has the team huddled together and gives them the news. The two littlest let lose with these smiles that just light up the gym. They were playing! And they played their hearts out. They each got to try a couple of baskets (missed, but who cares?) and I was impressed that the bigger/older guys made a point to feed these two the ball. They ran and blocked and jumped and had the time of their lives.
What made it even sweeter? The rival coach realized that his team wasn't going to catch up so he did the same thing. Pretty soon the floor was full of little guys having the time of their lives.
And the crowd loved it.
The After School Gum Scraping Club
Apparently the 8th graders have lost their minds and decided that the "absolutely no gum allowed" rule does not apply to them. Everything from chomping like bovines to blowing bubbles has surfaced and the 8th grade teachers decided to lay down the law and write referrals. I think the final straw had to do with Mrs. Cool and a certain gooey substance on the bottom of her shoe - not a good thing by any measure.
Mr. Enforcer is a firm believer in having punishments fit the crime. Consequently we now have the After School Gum Scraping Club.
Teams of students are given rubber gloves and putty knives and are responsible for scraping gum (and other debris) from underneath desks and chairs for an hour after school.
We have an old building. With old furniture. And years of accumulated gum and other substances. We can keep them busy for days.
It is, in the words of the kids who cleaned up my room, "truly disgusting." Apparently three of them went into one of the sixth grade rooms today and only managed, in one hour, to clean two rows of desks it was so bad.
Mr. Enforcer reports that one of the scrapers swore he'd never chew gum again. "There's gum, gummie bears and boogers under there!"
Yup, truly disgusting.
Mr. Enforcer is a firm believer in having punishments fit the crime. Consequently we now have the After School Gum Scraping Club.
Teams of students are given rubber gloves and putty knives and are responsible for scraping gum (and other debris) from underneath desks and chairs for an hour after school.
We have an old building. With old furniture. And years of accumulated gum and other substances. We can keep them busy for days.
It is, in the words of the kids who cleaned up my room, "truly disgusting." Apparently three of them went into one of the sixth grade rooms today and only managed, in one hour, to clean two rows of desks it was so bad.
Mr. Enforcer reports that one of the scrapers swore he'd never chew gum again. "There's gum, gummie bears and boogers under there!"
Yup, truly disgusting.
Friday, January 26, 2007
Wishing...Hoping...Praying....
Yesterday all faculty and staff found a special message in our mail boxes. Someone (no one knows exactly who, but it had to be someone who gets to school really, really early, or left really really late the night before) had printed out a copy of a weather report showing snow a few days in the future.
Across the top was written, "Keep the Faith"...
Teachers, in case you didn't know, like snow days even more than kids do.
Across the top was written, "Keep the Faith"...
Teachers, in case you didn't know, like snow days even more than kids do.
Monday, January 22, 2007
They Just Don't Make 'Em Like They Used To
Have any of you noticed that the pencils they make and sell these days are just, well, crap?
Mrs. Math first brought it to our attention a few weeks ago at lunch. "Have any of you noticed anything weird about the pencils this year?" she asked. "I don't think they're as well made as they used to be."
We all pondered that for a moment and realized that yeah, we had noticed something weird about pencils lately. For one thing, they don't sharpen well at all. The kids will try, and try, and try to get a decent sharp point on their pencil and all they get for their efforts is a useless little nub.
Grind-grind-grind
Look at pencil
Grind-grind-grind
Look at pencil
Grind-grind-grind
Look at pencil
Grind-grind-grind
Look at pencil
...and on and on until everyone's teeth are on edge and I'm about ready to just give the kid a mechanical pencil and tell him to sit down.
And it doesn't matter what type of sharpener it is. I have an electric one and a new hand crank one, and neither one of them do a good job on some of the pencils the kids have. Of course my electric one is now starting to run on its own - with no pencil or student nearby - which is causing a bit of hysteria in some of my classes. Some kids are convinced there's a ghost in the room sharpening a ghostly pencil. If that's the case, he's using crap pencils just like the kids are.
Maybe it's the wood. I've noticed that on most of the pencils that don't sharpen well the wood is definitely lighter in color, nearly white in fact, than the pencils that sharpen well. This wood is so soft that I can pretty much pick at it and tear it apart with my fingernails. In other words, the pencil is pretty much useless.
I'm guessing that the pencils with the lighter wood, the ones that split and won't sharpen well are probably cheaper than the better made pencils. And since a lot of my students get free and reduced lunch you can bet that mom is buying them the absolute cheapest pencils she can buy in order to save money.
A pencil is a simple thing, but an absolutely vital thing for a student to have. And a pencil that won't sharpen is just useless.
I may just have to spend a bunch of my BEP money next year buying really good, reliable pencils.
And just what is the world coming to when you can't even rely on a damn pencil?
Mrs. Math first brought it to our attention a few weeks ago at lunch. "Have any of you noticed anything weird about the pencils this year?" she asked. "I don't think they're as well made as they used to be."
We all pondered that for a moment and realized that yeah, we had noticed something weird about pencils lately. For one thing, they don't sharpen well at all. The kids will try, and try, and try to get a decent sharp point on their pencil and all they get for their efforts is a useless little nub.
Grind-grind-grind
Look at pencil
Grind-grind-grind
Look at pencil
Grind-grind-grind
Look at pencil
Grind-grind-grind
Look at pencil
...and on and on until everyone's teeth are on edge and I'm about ready to just give the kid a mechanical pencil and tell him to sit down.
And it doesn't matter what type of sharpener it is. I have an electric one and a new hand crank one, and neither one of them do a good job on some of the pencils the kids have. Of course my electric one is now starting to run on its own - with no pencil or student nearby - which is causing a bit of hysteria in some of my classes. Some kids are convinced there's a ghost in the room sharpening a ghostly pencil. If that's the case, he's using crap pencils just like the kids are.
Maybe it's the wood. I've noticed that on most of the pencils that don't sharpen well the wood is definitely lighter in color, nearly white in fact, than the pencils that sharpen well. This wood is so soft that I can pretty much pick at it and tear it apart with my fingernails. In other words, the pencil is pretty much useless.
I'm guessing that the pencils with the lighter wood, the ones that split and won't sharpen well are probably cheaper than the better made pencils. And since a lot of my students get free and reduced lunch you can bet that mom is buying them the absolute cheapest pencils she can buy in order to save money.
A pencil is a simple thing, but an absolutely vital thing for a student to have. And a pencil that won't sharpen is just useless.
I may just have to spend a bunch of my BEP money next year buying really good, reliable pencils.
And just what is the world coming to when you can't even rely on a damn pencil?
Thursday, January 18, 2007
Ambush!
I had the wonderful experience of being ambushed by a parent today during my homeroom.
Mrs. Faraway apparently told the front office that she needed to go with her daughter to get something out of her locker. The front office, being short one secretary and dealing with a late bus, didn't think anything of it, poor dears. The locker wasn't the deal...she wanted to argue with me about a few things.
First off, she didn't like the fact that she didn't know what, exactly, we did in my class every day - this despite a weekly email that all my parents get that outline what, exactly, we're doing in class every day. This despite a posting on my website about what, exactly, we're doing in class. This despite my weekly and sometimes daily uploads to www.k12planet.com that let the parents know what, exactly, we're doing in my class.
This is apparently not good enough. In addition, her daughter apparently cannot fill out her agenda with her classwork and homework to let her mother know what she did every day.
Keep in mind this is the girl that has a look on her face as if she's a million miles away and truly doesn't seem to be connected with much of anything that's going on. Mrs. Faraway said that I should know that her daughter has these problems and that if I were a good teacher I would take the time to type out everything I write on the board, especially my classwork and assignments, and hand it to her daughter daily so that it can be stapled in her agenda and sent home.
I am aware that her daughter has these problems, I've read the IEP after all, but no where in there does it say that I have to fill out her agenda for her. Considering that is probably one of the very few things that she actually has to do in my class that involve writing, and doing something on her own, I don't think it's too much to ask that she actually does write in her agenda. After all, she gets a study guide, she gets a copy of all notes, she gets modified tests read to her, she gets copies of all the stuff the other kids write on their foldables so she can simply cut it and glue it on her foldable. In short, she's spoon fed more than any other kid in the school. In the other classes, where there is an inclusion teacher, Mommy expects that teacher to open her book, write in her agenda, and basically babysit her. And it's all because Mommy is a bully who wants us to do everything for her, and at the same time expresses the belief that Faraway Girl can grow and become independent.
Her mother is also incensed that I have the kids trade and grade workbooks, and that some "other child" graded her daughter's workbook (which was, by the way, removed from my room without permission - I don't like them to leave the room because they don't always come back). I think what really upset her is that the workbook was full of X's because, in two days of group work, her daughter actually completed 7 of 28 questions. And this is work that she had help with. In her words, "It's the teacher's responsibility to grade the papers, and you have no business letting children do it for you."
I guess I'm just a meanie who's abusing free labor...and here it is I thought I was using it as a good review tool and a way to grade 130 workbooks in ten minutes...Granted it takes me several hours to then review them and enter them in the gradebook, something Mrs. Faraway didn't want to hear.
The kick was all of this is happening in front of my homeroom class, in front of her daughter, and the kids are standing there with their mouths open. Mr. Social Studies was, thankfully, lurking outside the door in case it got really ugly and he heard most of it. I did point out that Faraway Girl could probably get more done if she quit socializing (she has, after all, discovered boys) and Mommy responded that "I've taken care of that." Really? Last I looked Faraway Girl was busy gawking at the blonde across the room and talking to her lab partner when she should have been FILLING OUT HER FREAKING AGENDA.
I finally drew the line in the sand, told her she really should take her complaints up to the office and schedule a meeting. She said she'd do that, and she left.
I feel sorry for Faraway Girl because this horror of a mother never, ever lets her do anything on her own. She has her so used to people doing things for her that she's lost the skills, if she ever had them, to even open her agenda, fill it out, or complete a worksheet.
I dashed off an email to The Principal letting her know about the ambush, and to give her a heads up.
Her response? A huge apology and the words that we all live to hear..."I've got your back."
Mrs. Faraway apparently told the front office that she needed to go with her daughter to get something out of her locker. The front office, being short one secretary and dealing with a late bus, didn't think anything of it, poor dears. The locker wasn't the deal...she wanted to argue with me about a few things.
First off, she didn't like the fact that she didn't know what, exactly, we did in my class every day - this despite a weekly email that all my parents get that outline what, exactly, we're doing in class every day. This despite a posting on my website about what, exactly, we're doing in class. This despite my weekly and sometimes daily uploads to www.k12planet.com that let the parents know what, exactly, we're doing in my class.
This is apparently not good enough. In addition, her daughter apparently cannot fill out her agenda with her classwork and homework to let her mother know what she did every day.
Keep in mind this is the girl that has a look on her face as if she's a million miles away and truly doesn't seem to be connected with much of anything that's going on. Mrs. Faraway said that I should know that her daughter has these problems and that if I were a good teacher I would take the time to type out everything I write on the board, especially my classwork and assignments, and hand it to her daughter daily so that it can be stapled in her agenda and sent home.
I am aware that her daughter has these problems, I've read the IEP after all, but no where in there does it say that I have to fill out her agenda for her. Considering that is probably one of the very few things that she actually has to do in my class that involve writing, and doing something on her own, I don't think it's too much to ask that she actually does write in her agenda. After all, she gets a study guide, she gets a copy of all notes, she gets modified tests read to her, she gets copies of all the stuff the other kids write on their foldables so she can simply cut it and glue it on her foldable. In short, she's spoon fed more than any other kid in the school. In the other classes, where there is an inclusion teacher, Mommy expects that teacher to open her book, write in her agenda, and basically babysit her. And it's all because Mommy is a bully who wants us to do everything for her, and at the same time expresses the belief that Faraway Girl can grow and become independent.
Her mother is also incensed that I have the kids trade and grade workbooks, and that some "other child" graded her daughter's workbook (which was, by the way, removed from my room without permission - I don't like them to leave the room because they don't always come back). I think what really upset her is that the workbook was full of X's because, in two days of group work, her daughter actually completed 7 of 28 questions. And this is work that she had help with. In her words, "It's the teacher's responsibility to grade the papers, and you have no business letting children do it for you."
I guess I'm just a meanie who's abusing free labor...and here it is I thought I was using it as a good review tool and a way to grade 130 workbooks in ten minutes...Granted it takes me several hours to then review them and enter them in the gradebook, something Mrs. Faraway didn't want to hear.
The kick was all of this is happening in front of my homeroom class, in front of her daughter, and the kids are standing there with their mouths open. Mr. Social Studies was, thankfully, lurking outside the door in case it got really ugly and he heard most of it. I did point out that Faraway Girl could probably get more done if she quit socializing (she has, after all, discovered boys) and Mommy responded that "I've taken care of that." Really? Last I looked Faraway Girl was busy gawking at the blonde across the room and talking to her lab partner when she should have been FILLING OUT HER FREAKING AGENDA.
I finally drew the line in the sand, told her she really should take her complaints up to the office and schedule a meeting. She said she'd do that, and she left.
I feel sorry for Faraway Girl because this horror of a mother never, ever lets her do anything on her own. She has her so used to people doing things for her that she's lost the skills, if she ever had them, to even open her agenda, fill it out, or complete a worksheet.
I dashed off an email to The Principal letting her know about the ambush, and to give her a heads up.
Her response? A huge apology and the words that we all live to hear..."I've got your back."
Sunday, January 14, 2007
On over-involved parents, special treatment, and bratty kids
As I've mentioned before, we have a very active parent-teacher organization at our school. They do fantastic things for the kids, the teachers, and the community overall. We have parent volunteers in our building every day, and some of the mothers (it's rarely a father, which is a shame) are at school all day long, usually in our large group instruction room where they set up the holiday stores, prepare the care baskets at Christmas, do staff luncheons, etc. I'm not sure what they're doing in there all day, but apparently they don't have jobs or anything to do at home because they're here.
And they're causing problems.
Most of the mothers are fantastic, do their thing, let us do ours, and never meddle. In fact, we had the daughter of the PTO president last year and it was wonderful - she never questioned anything we did and never expected or demanded special treatment for her daughter. However, this year we have three mothers who think they run our classrooms and the school. And since all three of their children are spoiled brats who tend to have behavior issues, it's causing some major problems, not only for us, but for The Principal who's about ready to beat her head (or someone else's) against a wall.
Case in point. These three children, Spoiled Princess Girl (who's mother actually teaches at another school so isn't a volunteer, but meddles via email), Brat Boy, and Snarly Boy never, ever eat in the cafeteria with the other students. Instead, they go to the large group instruction room where Mrs. Brat boy and Mrs. Snarly Boy will have lunch, usually a hot meal from Ruby Tuesday, O'Charley's or somewhere like that, ready for them. Our school has always had a policy that parents can come and join their children for lunch (and many do), but most of them will actually eat in the cafeteria, maybe bring a pizza, and will invite their child's friends to join in. Not this clique. See, they're special. And it's even better when the mother that's been tasked with getting lunch is late, because then the kids have lunch late, and they go back to class...you get it...late. There have been many times we've caught these three kids goofing off, unsupervised, in the LGI room, the administration has told the parents that they can't do that, but they ignore them and do it anyway.
And then they upped the ante. Over the past few months, instead of bringing lunch every day, they decide to check the kids out and take them out for lunch. Now, we only have a half hour for lunch, and these parents aren't about to go through a drive-through (interestingly, both Mr. Brat Boy and Mr. Snarly Boy own their own businesses so there's a bit more money available than most of our kids have in their lives). Instead, they take them out for a sit-down lunch which takes at least an hour, maybe more. This means that they miss the last half of fourth period with Mrs. Reading and Mr. Social Studies, and part of my class which is fifth period. (And yes, you can bet we're keeping track of these absences and late arrivals to class.)
Any idea on what kind of message this is sending to the kids?
It's interesting to hear the comments from the other kids regarding these special lunch arrangements. They are collectively referred to as "the PTO kids", and are considered popular although they are definitely not well-liked. The kids will openly say that they think the school has different rules for the PTO kids than they do for everyone else which drives the teachers on my team just absolutely nuts.
So it was wonderful when The Principal, after about the 20th conversation with these mothers, (who basically are ignoring her) told us she'd back us 100% on any behavior or discipline issues we had with these kids. Just be sure to document, document, document.
And it's turning out into all out war, especially between Mrs. Brat Boy and the World. In her words, he's just a being a boy, he's not a behavior issue, and it's just because we don't understand him. Uhm, let's see, he never turns in his work, won't open up his book (if he brings it), won't fill out his agenda, won't bring a pencil, and, because he's relatively smart, passes, barely with a D because he can test well. He also sits in isolation in most classes because he either won't shut up or he's picking on another kid. He's been earning a few stints in ISS for disrespect towards teachers, skipping class, and a few other stunts. His mother refuses to sign any of the discipline referrals because she doesn't "agree" with them. I've actually had several conversations with Mr. Brat Boy who's told me bluntly that he completely disagrees with his wife's ideas on discipline, and implied that the boys (there's a younger one as well) are causing a riff between the two of them.
Great.
Surly Boy isn't much better. He's unpleasant towards any adult in authority. He "lost" his agenda in October, and after about the third time of me asking his mother to please get him one, she told me that he had money to buy one for over a month. The next day I had him buy one and now he conveniently leaves it at home. He also refuses to have a binder because "it's stupid". Well, gee, it may be stupid, but according to the Director of Schools, it's required. Mrs. Snarly Boy came to my class last week to drop off Snarly Boy's books (which he leaves on the kitchen table several times a week) and I asked her to schedule a meeting with the team to talk about Snarly Boy's behavior, grades, and so forth. She vented to me that he's rude to her as well, she doesn't know what to do, blah, blah, blah (maybe not baby him by bringing him his books every day he leaves them and make him face the consequences?) She said she'd make sure to schedule a meeting because she could use our help. (It has yet to be scheduled.)
The last straw was this week when Mrs. Snarly Boy and Mrs. Brat Boy came to get their kids at lunch because they had to go on vacation to Gatlinburg. Mrs. Reading asked if Snarly Boy could wait just ten minutes as he had a test to take. No, she said, it was impossible to wait ten minutes. They had to go now. Mrs. Brat Boy, again, pulled her precious child out of ISS to reward him with a visit to Gatlinburg.
The Principal was livid.
Next week should be interesting.
And they're causing problems.
Most of the mothers are fantastic, do their thing, let us do ours, and never meddle. In fact, we had the daughter of the PTO president last year and it was wonderful - she never questioned anything we did and never expected or demanded special treatment for her daughter. However, this year we have three mothers who think they run our classrooms and the school. And since all three of their children are spoiled brats who tend to have behavior issues, it's causing some major problems, not only for us, but for The Principal who's about ready to beat her head (or someone else's) against a wall.
Case in point. These three children, Spoiled Princess Girl (who's mother actually teaches at another school so isn't a volunteer, but meddles via email), Brat Boy, and Snarly Boy never, ever eat in the cafeteria with the other students. Instead, they go to the large group instruction room where Mrs. Brat boy and Mrs. Snarly Boy will have lunch, usually a hot meal from Ruby Tuesday, O'Charley's or somewhere like that, ready for them. Our school has always had a policy that parents can come and join their children for lunch (and many do), but most of them will actually eat in the cafeteria, maybe bring a pizza, and will invite their child's friends to join in. Not this clique. See, they're special. And it's even better when the mother that's been tasked with getting lunch is late, because then the kids have lunch late, and they go back to class...you get it...late. There have been many times we've caught these three kids goofing off, unsupervised, in the LGI room, the administration has told the parents that they can't do that, but they ignore them and do it anyway.
And then they upped the ante. Over the past few months, instead of bringing lunch every day, they decide to check the kids out and take them out for lunch. Now, we only have a half hour for lunch, and these parents aren't about to go through a drive-through (interestingly, both Mr. Brat Boy and Mr. Snarly Boy own their own businesses so there's a bit more money available than most of our kids have in their lives). Instead, they take them out for a sit-down lunch which takes at least an hour, maybe more. This means that they miss the last half of fourth period with Mrs. Reading and Mr. Social Studies, and part of my class which is fifth period. (And yes, you can bet we're keeping track of these absences and late arrivals to class.)
Any idea on what kind of message this is sending to the kids?
It's interesting to hear the comments from the other kids regarding these special lunch arrangements. They are collectively referred to as "the PTO kids", and are considered popular although they are definitely not well-liked. The kids will openly say that they think the school has different rules for the PTO kids than they do for everyone else which drives the teachers on my team just absolutely nuts.
So it was wonderful when The Principal, after about the 20th conversation with these mothers, (who basically are ignoring her) told us she'd back us 100% on any behavior or discipline issues we had with these kids. Just be sure to document, document, document.
And it's turning out into all out war, especially between Mrs. Brat Boy and the World. In her words, he's just a being a boy, he's not a behavior issue, and it's just because we don't understand him. Uhm, let's see, he never turns in his work, won't open up his book (if he brings it), won't fill out his agenda, won't bring a pencil, and, because he's relatively smart, passes, barely with a D because he can test well. He also sits in isolation in most classes because he either won't shut up or he's picking on another kid. He's been earning a few stints in ISS for disrespect towards teachers, skipping class, and a few other stunts. His mother refuses to sign any of the discipline referrals because she doesn't "agree" with them. I've actually had several conversations with Mr. Brat Boy who's told me bluntly that he completely disagrees with his wife's ideas on discipline, and implied that the boys (there's a younger one as well) are causing a riff between the two of them.
Great.
Surly Boy isn't much better. He's unpleasant towards any adult in authority. He "lost" his agenda in October, and after about the third time of me asking his mother to please get him one, she told me that he had money to buy one for over a month. The next day I had him buy one and now he conveniently leaves it at home. He also refuses to have a binder because "it's stupid". Well, gee, it may be stupid, but according to the Director of Schools, it's required. Mrs. Snarly Boy came to my class last week to drop off Snarly Boy's books (which he leaves on the kitchen table several times a week) and I asked her to schedule a meeting with the team to talk about Snarly Boy's behavior, grades, and so forth. She vented to me that he's rude to her as well, she doesn't know what to do, blah, blah, blah (maybe not baby him by bringing him his books every day he leaves them and make him face the consequences?) She said she'd make sure to schedule a meeting because she could use our help. (It has yet to be scheduled.)
The last straw was this week when Mrs. Snarly Boy and Mrs. Brat Boy came to get their kids at lunch because they had to go on vacation to Gatlinburg. Mrs. Reading asked if Snarly Boy could wait just ten minutes as he had a test to take. No, she said, it was impossible to wait ten minutes. They had to go now. Mrs. Brat Boy, again, pulled her precious child out of ISS to reward him with a visit to Gatlinburg.
The Principal was livid.
Next week should be interesting.
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
Carnival Time!
Wow! Talk about overachievers! Our host, I Thought I Think, already has the Carnival of Education up and available for viewing this week!
I haven't had a chance to check them all out, but I highly recommend you look at Persephone's Box and learn about kids who staple their pants to their legs and the interesting "portals to another dimension". I about fell out of my chair I was laughing so hard!
Enjoy!
I haven't had a chance to check them all out, but I highly recommend you look at Persephone's Box and learn about kids who staple their pants to their legs and the interesting "portals to another dimension". I about fell out of my chair I was laughing so hard!
Enjoy!
Sunday, January 07, 2007
Ah, the sound of binder rings in the morning
We went back to school this past Thursday (nothing like easing everyone in with a very short week), and the kids were actually pretty well behaved. I've noticed for the past few years that Santa does something really weird over the holidays - it's as if he gives all my good kids the crazies (aka hormones) and they become nuts, and then the kids that were nuts before get something (a dose of maturity?) and they do a lot better. Interestingly enough, I didn't see any big changes in the kids, outside of some new clothes and a lot of haircuts, but time will tell.
We celebrated the New Year by cleaning out the science portion of our binders.
Binder are a Very Big Thing in our district. And getting to clean out the binders is a Very Big Thing to our students.
The binders, and the fact that Every Single Seventh Grader in the entire district is required to carry one , is an outgrowth of a program called AVID (Advancement through Individal Determination), which has been very successful in our high schools. (For more information on Avid, go here). In our high schools, AVID is actually a designated class that helps kids with organizational skills and study skills in the hopes to move these middle-of-the road kids into a higher achievement level. It's a really successful program and I've had a number of former students credit it for turning them around. Many AVID students end up going to college, something many of them may not have even considered before they entered the program.
So, a few years ago, The District decided to take some of the AVID concepts and implement them into the middle schools, with seventh grade being the focus. Our team piloted the program last year and now everyone's doing it. We did have the AVID teachers from the local high schools come down and show us what they do, and then we modified it based on the reality of seventh graders (and what we discovered last year). Face it, there are some things they are just not developmentally ready for.
The big feature of the program is The Binder. Every kid has a binder which holds EVERYTHING. No more "I left my Science folder in my locker." These binders go with the kids everywhere. There is a section for each subject, and subsections within each subject - class notes & handouts, graded & returned work, and homework. Everything is filed on top, so in theory, if a kid finished his homework, opens his binder and puts it on the very top of the science/homework section, there should be no problem locating the homework to turn it in the following day. The binder also contains paper, their agenda, a pencil pouch which holds pencils and highlighters, and class and team rules, information, etc. The agenda itself has to be filled out in a specifc way with a line for Classwork (what we did that day), and another one for Homework, which are then highlighted with different colored highlighters. Notes are taken in the Cornell Note format although those of us in the Science Department tend to use our foldable notes instead as it works better for our content (and that's another post and another day).
In short, there's a huge emphasis on organization with this program. And, truth be told, it has a lot of merit but it's been incredibly difficult to work with the kids on their binders when we don't have a dedicated class for it like the high schools do. All of which may be one of the reasons why we go to a dedicated advisory next year, but I digress.
Cleaning out their binders (which, by the way, is something the high school kids apparently never get to do) is something our kids love to do. There's something about throwing away old test and notes and homework that gives them satisfaction. I feel the same way about going through my closet and getting rid of things I never wear. I did, however, have them staple all their foldable notes together and turn them in. I file these away and then hand them back out when we review for Our Very Big Government Mandated Test. They clicked those binder rings open and closed, shuffled their papers, sorted them out, stapled and turned in.
So, I got to wondering...any of you out there use the AVID program? Comments?
We celebrated the New Year by cleaning out the science portion of our binders.
Binder are a Very Big Thing in our district. And getting to clean out the binders is a Very Big Thing to our students.
The binders, and the fact that Every Single Seventh Grader in the entire district is required to carry one , is an outgrowth of a program called AVID (Advancement through Individal Determination), which has been very successful in our high schools. (For more information on Avid, go here). In our high schools, AVID is actually a designated class that helps kids with organizational skills and study skills in the hopes to move these middle-of-the road kids into a higher achievement level. It's a really successful program and I've had a number of former students credit it for turning them around. Many AVID students end up going to college, something many of them may not have even considered before they entered the program.
So, a few years ago, The District decided to take some of the AVID concepts and implement them into the middle schools, with seventh grade being the focus. Our team piloted the program last year and now everyone's doing it. We did have the AVID teachers from the local high schools come down and show us what they do, and then we modified it based on the reality of seventh graders (and what we discovered last year). Face it, there are some things they are just not developmentally ready for.
The big feature of the program is The Binder. Every kid has a binder which holds EVERYTHING. No more "I left my Science folder in my locker." These binders go with the kids everywhere. There is a section for each subject, and subsections within each subject - class notes & handouts, graded & returned work, and homework. Everything is filed on top, so in theory, if a kid finished his homework, opens his binder and puts it on the very top of the science/homework section, there should be no problem locating the homework to turn it in the following day. The binder also contains paper, their agenda, a pencil pouch which holds pencils and highlighters, and class and team rules, information, etc. The agenda itself has to be filled out in a specifc way with a line for Classwork (what we did that day), and another one for Homework, which are then highlighted with different colored highlighters. Notes are taken in the Cornell Note format although those of us in the Science Department tend to use our foldable notes instead as it works better for our content (and that's another post and another day).
In short, there's a huge emphasis on organization with this program. And, truth be told, it has a lot of merit but it's been incredibly difficult to work with the kids on their binders when we don't have a dedicated class for it like the high schools do. All of which may be one of the reasons why we go to a dedicated advisory next year, but I digress.
Cleaning out their binders (which, by the way, is something the high school kids apparently never get to do) is something our kids love to do. There's something about throwing away old test and notes and homework that gives them satisfaction. I feel the same way about going through my closet and getting rid of things I never wear. I did, however, have them staple all their foldable notes together and turn them in. I file these away and then hand them back out when we review for Our Very Big Government Mandated Test. They clicked those binder rings open and closed, shuffled their papers, sorted them out, stapled and turned in.
So, I got to wondering...any of you out there use the AVID program? Comments?
Monday, January 01, 2007
I'm just a sheet cake sort of gal
As a science teacher, I'm used to doing labs that don't necessarily work out perfectly. That's part of the game, and actually ends up being a good thing because it leads to good discussions with the kids about why something didn't go as planned. I think they learn more that way.
However, as a cook, I'm not used to failures. Especially big grand failures. But oh, I had a humdinger of a failure for New Year's.
When we go over to the Littlebird's, I often bring dessert. Not that I'm any great baker, I actually like cooking main dishes more, but because it's easier to bring a dessert than, say, a pot roast. And I like to do desserts because there's usually a recipe I'd like to try, and it gives me a good excuse.
Iin the November, 2006 issue of Southern Living magazine, they had this recipe for a banana cake. Mr. Bluebird loves banana pudding and banana bread and this looked like a fun recipe to try. The picture was gorgeous - a triple layered cake with chunks of banana and gooey white frosting between the layers, all topped by more snowy white gooey frosting.
The batter was easy, the baking went fine, I made my three round cake layers, cooled them, whipped up the butter cream frosting, cut the banana slices, tossed them in lemon juice, drained them, got out my grandma's depression glass cake plate, and began to assemble my cake.
And this is where it all went wrong.
I put the first layer on the cake plate, added the 1/2 cup of frosting (just like the recipe said), topped that with a layer of 1/4" banana slices (just like the recipe said), frosted another layer and inverted it (just like the recipe said), and repeated (just like the recipe said). In other words, I did everything exactly like the recipe said to do it.
By the time I'd stacked my three layers and was ready to do the overall frosting I realized that we had a problem.
The banana slices didn't want to stay put in between the layers.
At all.
They were migrating from in between the layers to the edge, then creeping down the sides. I'd push in a banana piece, and another one would squirt out on the opposite side of the cake. The cake itself was starting to lean precariously. I secured it with some bamboo skewers. The motion was too great and the cake simly kept moving, taking the skewers with it. By this time the cake, which should have had lovely, smooth sides, looked like it had warts as the bananas were popping out and sliding down the sides, and creeping across the cake plate.
This was not going to work.
And I didn't have time to run to the market and make something else.
So I improvised.
I took a deep square glass baking dish, picked up the cake and sliding bananas off my lovely cake plate, dumped it in the dish and basically threw the remaining frosting and bananas on top. It looked like a rather odd shaped mountain with boulders sticking out all over the place. If I'd been clever, and not just annoyed, I would have rigged up a ski lift with toothpicks and thread.
I took what I was now calling "Banana Mash Cake" (because it was sort of just mashed there in the dish) to the Littlebird's and told them the entire story. Between the deer and the baking disaster, it wasn't my day, but it turned out okay in the end. The cake tasted great (and was best served with a large spoon) and hopefully the car repairs won't be too expensive.
But I don't think I'm ever going to try a layer cake again.
However, as a cook, I'm not used to failures. Especially big grand failures. But oh, I had a humdinger of a failure for New Year's.
When we go over to the Littlebird's, I often bring dessert. Not that I'm any great baker, I actually like cooking main dishes more, but because it's easier to bring a dessert than, say, a pot roast. And I like to do desserts because there's usually a recipe I'd like to try, and it gives me a good excuse.
Iin the November, 2006 issue of Southern Living magazine, they had this recipe for a banana cake. Mr. Bluebird loves banana pudding and banana bread and this looked like a fun recipe to try. The picture was gorgeous - a triple layered cake with chunks of banana and gooey white frosting between the layers, all topped by more snowy white gooey frosting.
The batter was easy, the baking went fine, I made my three round cake layers, cooled them, whipped up the butter cream frosting, cut the banana slices, tossed them in lemon juice, drained them, got out my grandma's depression glass cake plate, and began to assemble my cake.
And this is where it all went wrong.
I put the first layer on the cake plate, added the 1/2 cup of frosting (just like the recipe said), topped that with a layer of 1/4" banana slices (just like the recipe said), frosted another layer and inverted it (just like the recipe said), and repeated (just like the recipe said). In other words, I did everything exactly like the recipe said to do it.
By the time I'd stacked my three layers and was ready to do the overall frosting I realized that we had a problem.
The banana slices didn't want to stay put in between the layers.
At all.
They were migrating from in between the layers to the edge, then creeping down the sides. I'd push in a banana piece, and another one would squirt out on the opposite side of the cake. The cake itself was starting to lean precariously. I secured it with some bamboo skewers. The motion was too great and the cake simly kept moving, taking the skewers with it. By this time the cake, which should have had lovely, smooth sides, looked like it had warts as the bananas were popping out and sliding down the sides, and creeping across the cake plate.
This was not going to work.
And I didn't have time to run to the market and make something else.
So I improvised.
I took a deep square glass baking dish, picked up the cake and sliding bananas off my lovely cake plate, dumped it in the dish and basically threw the remaining frosting and bananas on top. It looked like a rather odd shaped mountain with boulders sticking out all over the place. If I'd been clever, and not just annoyed, I would have rigged up a ski lift with toothpicks and thread.
I took what I was now calling "Banana Mash Cake" (because it was sort of just mashed there in the dish) to the Littlebird's and told them the entire story. Between the deer and the baking disaster, it wasn't my day, but it turned out okay in the end. The cake tasted great (and was best served with a large spoon) and hopefully the car repairs won't be too expensive.
But I don't think I'm ever going to try a layer cake again.
2006 Out with a Crash!
Mr. Bluebird and I went over to our friends' the Littlebirds for New Years. We spend a lot of holidays with the Littlebrids, probably because none of us have any family locally. (Poppa Bluebird already went home, about three hours away, after spending most of Christmas week with us). In any case, these evenings tend to be a whole lot of fun. We eat, we play board games (Scattegories and Scene It were the two we played last night), and we just have a lot of laughs and a grand time.
Of course Mr. Bluebird and I had to start the evening out by hitting a deer in my precious Saturn.
We were driving along a rather busy road, heading to the Littlebird's, when a deer just appeared out of nowhere. Mr. Bluebird braked, we bumped the deer, and we pulled over and stopped to check the damage. The hood was dented and the bumber, which is fiberglass was cracked. Nothing else appeared to be wrong - lights were fine, the car ran fine, in fact it wasn't as bad as it could be.
Like the time Mr. Bluebird hit a deer and the airbags deployed and the insurance company totalled his van...
The best we can determine that deer had come charging out from between two houses and just ran in front of us. Considering the traffic on that street, it's amazing more cars didn't get involved when we had to hit the brakes.
So, we got to the Littlebird's, I called the police to do a police report (my insurance company likes police reports), and called the insurance company.
What a way to end 2006!
Of course Mr. Bluebird and I had to start the evening out by hitting a deer in my precious Saturn.
We were driving along a rather busy road, heading to the Littlebird's, when a deer just appeared out of nowhere. Mr. Bluebird braked, we bumped the deer, and we pulled over and stopped to check the damage. The hood was dented and the bumber, which is fiberglass was cracked. Nothing else appeared to be wrong - lights were fine, the car ran fine, in fact it wasn't as bad as it could be.
Like the time Mr. Bluebird hit a deer and the airbags deployed and the insurance company totalled his van...
The best we can determine that deer had come charging out from between two houses and just ran in front of us. Considering the traffic on that street, it's amazing more cars didn't get involved when we had to hit the brakes.
So, we got to the Littlebird's, I called the police to do a police report (my insurance company likes police reports), and called the insurance company.
What a way to end 2006!
Thursday, December 28, 2006
Bread and Milk! We must have Bread and Milk!
While Mr. Bluebird and Poppa Bird and I have had a relatively uneventful holiday, marred only by a bit of rain, our kin in Colorado are having a heck of a time this Christmas season. While they're getting ready for the latest round of blizzards, Mr. Bluebird is out on the back deck grilling steaks. Patently unfair, don't you think?
Anyhow, last week when the first blizzard hit Denver I called my cousin, Penguin. Penguin is a year older than me and is a definite free spirit who marches to her own tune. Nothing phases her. Even a rollicking day of baby-sitting her nephews and niece doesn't send her over the edge. In fact, I'm not sure what would send her over the edge, if anything.
So I reach her on her cell phone as she's just boarded the shuttle bus at the airport that's supposed to take her to her car that's parked at Stapleton, the old airport. (She works for an airline out of Denver International Airport). Apparently, instead of having the employees drive for miles across the prairie to reach the airport, the airlines run a shuttle service. Which usually runs fairly frequently. However, with the blizzard in full battle mode, it ran a bit late.
"Oh, we just got on the shuttle to take us to our cars," she says. "It was kind of cool. We waiting there for two hours, just like penguins huddling together and taking turns being on the inside of the huddle and outside of the huddle because the wind and snow was blowing so bad." Penguin, I might add, is nuts about penguins and has been collecting them since we were knee-high. Hence, her name.
"You were waiting in the snow for two hours?"
"Oh yeah, and they say it make take us two hours to get to our cars." Penguin is not even remotely concerned or upset at this point. In fact, it sounded like the entire shuttle bus was singing Christmas Carols and partying.
I called Penguin a day or so later and she informed me that yes, it did take two hours to get to their cars, but she had parked in covered parking so it was only a matter of getting home along the snow-covered roads. Apparently this took some time as well, but she made it. She then spent the following day walking all over her neighborhood and the local park with her snowshoes and digital camera. She reported that her area received 33" of snow. In Penguin's eyes that simply means more chances to play with her snowshoes and digital camera.
Today, as the weather reports are screeching about Yet Another Blizzard, I call Penguin to see what's really going on. She is nonplussed.
"People are so silly," she says on the phone. "The lines at the gas stations are huge," she reports. "Which is kind of silly because if you have a blizzard, you aren't going driving anywhere, right?"
I agree that people really are rather silly (I do, after all, teach so I am very aware of this fact).
Penguin continues, "I ran by the market on the way home from Mother's, just to get a few things, and they're out of milk. Is that silly or what? I mean, what's with the bread and milk? Every time there's a storm people all stock up on bread and milk. I'd rather stock up on tortilla chips and salsa, if I'm going to stock up on anything."
Mr. Bluebird, Poppa Bird and I all tend to agree with Penguin on this. Why do people stock up on bread and milk? Why not lunchmeat and chips? Why not peanut butter? Why not chocolate? Me, if I'm stuck home during a blizzard, I'd probably want to make sure I had plenty of coffee, shortbread cookies, and Jack Daniels.
And some really good books to read.
So, there are two questions for my dear readers.
1. What's with the bread and milk?
2. What would you stock up on???
Anyhow, last week when the first blizzard hit Denver I called my cousin, Penguin. Penguin is a year older than me and is a definite free spirit who marches to her own tune. Nothing phases her. Even a rollicking day of baby-sitting her nephews and niece doesn't send her over the edge. In fact, I'm not sure what would send her over the edge, if anything.
So I reach her on her cell phone as she's just boarded the shuttle bus at the airport that's supposed to take her to her car that's parked at Stapleton, the old airport. (She works for an airline out of Denver International Airport). Apparently, instead of having the employees drive for miles across the prairie to reach the airport, the airlines run a shuttle service. Which usually runs fairly frequently. However, with the blizzard in full battle mode, it ran a bit late.
"Oh, we just got on the shuttle to take us to our cars," she says. "It was kind of cool. We waiting there for two hours, just like penguins huddling together and taking turns being on the inside of the huddle and outside of the huddle because the wind and snow was blowing so bad." Penguin, I might add, is nuts about penguins and has been collecting them since we were knee-high. Hence, her name.
"You were waiting in the snow for two hours?"
"Oh yeah, and they say it make take us two hours to get to our cars." Penguin is not even remotely concerned or upset at this point. In fact, it sounded like the entire shuttle bus was singing Christmas Carols and partying.
I called Penguin a day or so later and she informed me that yes, it did take two hours to get to their cars, but she had parked in covered parking so it was only a matter of getting home along the snow-covered roads. Apparently this took some time as well, but she made it. She then spent the following day walking all over her neighborhood and the local park with her snowshoes and digital camera. She reported that her area received 33" of snow. In Penguin's eyes that simply means more chances to play with her snowshoes and digital camera.
Today, as the weather reports are screeching about Yet Another Blizzard, I call Penguin to see what's really going on. She is nonplussed.
"People are so silly," she says on the phone. "The lines at the gas stations are huge," she reports. "Which is kind of silly because if you have a blizzard, you aren't going driving anywhere, right?"
I agree that people really are rather silly (I do, after all, teach so I am very aware of this fact).
Penguin continues, "I ran by the market on the way home from Mother's, just to get a few things, and they're out of milk. Is that silly or what? I mean, what's with the bread and milk? Every time there's a storm people all stock up on bread and milk. I'd rather stock up on tortilla chips and salsa, if I'm going to stock up on anything."
Mr. Bluebird, Poppa Bird and I all tend to agree with Penguin on this. Why do people stock up on bread and milk? Why not lunchmeat and chips? Why not peanut butter? Why not chocolate? Me, if I'm stuck home during a blizzard, I'd probably want to make sure I had plenty of coffee, shortbread cookies, and Jack Daniels.
And some really good books to read.
So, there are two questions for my dear readers.
1. What's with the bread and milk?
2. What would you stock up on???
Rock Goddess
My nickname isn't The Rock Goddess for nothing!
Rock Star You scored 94%! |
You damn rock star. You know all the basics, and if you got any wrong, I bet it was that stupid Traveling Wilburys question. Your friends are probably intimidated by your knowledge of classic rock and envy your impressive collection. When a classic rock song comes on the radio, you can probably identify it before the vocals kick in most of the time. You probably get good scores on the "maiden name of Clapton's mom" tests, too. |
 |
My test tracked 1 variable How you compared to other people your age and gender:
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| Link: The BASIC classic rock Test written by allmydays on OkCupid Free Online Dating, home of the The Dating Persona Test |
Sunday, December 24, 2006
Merry Christmas!
It's Christmas Eve, hard to believe it's already here, and I'm finally getting caught up on my blog reading, knitting, house cleaning, baking, etc.
I'm enjoying reading about Christmas traditions and plans from all my fellow bloggers, which is one way to vicariously live the holiday through other people's eyes. See, my family doesn't really have any big deal holiday traditions, for a number of reasons.
First, my father, and all my uncles, all worked for the airline industry. That meant that Christmas dinner was usually a buffet style affair where you grabbed a plate and ate whenever you could. Every one of them worked Christmas day. I don't think my Dad actually had Christmas off until he had over 25 years in, and then he always volunteered to work it so the guys with little kids (I was past college by this time) could enjoy it.
I guess the second reason we don't have a lot of traditions is that Mr. Bluebird and I both come from small families. I'm an only child, he has one (estranged, slightly wacko) sister, and a half sister who's quite a bit older. There are, outside of my cousins' kids, no children in the family. Like my family, he moved a bit as a child (including overseas) so having grandmas and grandpas around for thie holidays was a rarity.
That being said, we tend to do our own traditions which might seem strange to some people, but when you have a houseful of two or three people, you can do what you want.
Like make all day spaghetti sauce and invite your Jewish friends over for a spaghetti Christmas dinner.
My mother thought it was horrible that we didn't do a turkey that year. But really, why bother with a big bird when it's only a handful of folks and you really like Italian food?
Last year we invited all my friends and fellow teachers who had spouses deployed and who had no family in the area over. We had a blast! This just proved the point that you can chose your friends but not your relatives. If I had had some of my crazy, dysfunctional relatives over (instead of good friends) I probably would have been found behind the tree getting plowed on Jack Daniels.
Tonight we're going over to Mr. and Mrs. Littlebird's house for our monthly dinner and game night with a little foray out to look at Christmas lights. The Prodigal Daughter (their daughter who we would keep as our own) will be home from college, although Mr. Littlebird is overseas again this holiday. Tomorrow Papa Bird will drive up for Christmas dinner and most likely will stay for a few days. I'll be cooking Christmas dinner.
I'm making lasagne.
Merry Christmas everyone!
I'm enjoying reading about Christmas traditions and plans from all my fellow bloggers, which is one way to vicariously live the holiday through other people's eyes. See, my family doesn't really have any big deal holiday traditions, for a number of reasons.
First, my father, and all my uncles, all worked for the airline industry. That meant that Christmas dinner was usually a buffet style affair where you grabbed a plate and ate whenever you could. Every one of them worked Christmas day. I don't think my Dad actually had Christmas off until he had over 25 years in, and then he always volunteered to work it so the guys with little kids (I was past college by this time) could enjoy it.
I guess the second reason we don't have a lot of traditions is that Mr. Bluebird and I both come from small families. I'm an only child, he has one (estranged, slightly wacko) sister, and a half sister who's quite a bit older. There are, outside of my cousins' kids, no children in the family. Like my family, he moved a bit as a child (including overseas) so having grandmas and grandpas around for thie holidays was a rarity.
That being said, we tend to do our own traditions which might seem strange to some people, but when you have a houseful of two or three people, you can do what you want.
Like make all day spaghetti sauce and invite your Jewish friends over for a spaghetti Christmas dinner.
My mother thought it was horrible that we didn't do a turkey that year. But really, why bother with a big bird when it's only a handful of folks and you really like Italian food?
Last year we invited all my friends and fellow teachers who had spouses deployed and who had no family in the area over. We had a blast! This just proved the point that you can chose your friends but not your relatives. If I had had some of my crazy, dysfunctional relatives over (instead of good friends) I probably would have been found behind the tree getting plowed on Jack Daniels.
Tonight we're going over to Mr. and Mrs. Littlebird's house for our monthly dinner and game night with a little foray out to look at Christmas lights. The Prodigal Daughter (their daughter who we would keep as our own) will be home from college, although Mr. Littlebird is overseas again this holiday. Tomorrow Papa Bird will drive up for Christmas dinner and most likely will stay for a few days. I'll be cooking Christmas dinner.
I'm making lasagne.
Merry Christmas everyone!
Thursday, December 21, 2006
Whoo-hoo! Carnival Time!
It's time for another Carnival of Education. Wander on over to The Median Sib for another outstanding read. I highly recommend a good cup of coffee and chocolate to enhance your reading experience. It is the holidays after all.
At last...
I can sleep in.
And take a nap later on if I want to.
I can read a novel.
I can knit, knit, knit.
I can watch all the DVD's I haven't had time to watch.
I might even make some Christmas cookies.
I can hang out with Mr. Bluebird.
I love my kids, but gosh, I like having some time to myself!
And take a nap later on if I want to.
I can read a novel.
I can knit, knit, knit.
I can watch all the DVD's I haven't had time to watch.
I might even make some Christmas cookies.
I can hang out with Mr. Bluebird.
I love my kids, but gosh, I like having some time to myself!
Monday, December 18, 2006
Out of the Mouths of Middler Schoolers, or Doughboy Discovers Sex
There are days in the life of a middle school teacher when you wonder how on earth you manage to maintain your compsure and not dissolve into fits of hysterical giggles. Especially when one of your kids says something so off the wall that you're not even sure you heard it correctly. In fact, you're hoping you didn't hear it correctly.
Today was one of those days for Mr. Social Studies.
You have to give him credit. He tries to drag our kids kicking and screaming into discussions of current events, which sometimes works and sometimes doesn't. In fact, it all depends on the class. Some class periods do well in this area, others don't. It all sort of depends on the make up of the kids.
Today he was having a current event discussion when one of the kids raises his hand and mentions that he thought he heard on the radio news this morning that a cure for AIDS had been discovered. Mr. Social Studies responds that he hadn't heard that, but if it is the case, that would be a very good thing. The class then gets into a discussion about AIDS, which the kids apparently have a lot of questions about. (Which shows that they don't pay any more attention in health class than they do in science.) Mr. Social Studies explains a bit about the origins of the disease, how it's an STD, how it has decimated populations in Africa, and so on.
Doughboy raises his hand. Now there's several schools of thought when Doughboy raises his hand. One is the belief that you're delighted he's apparently paying attention and wants to contribute. The other is that you're scared to death about what might come out of his mouth.
Mr. Social Studies decides to take a gamble and calls on Doughboy.
"What's an STD?" he asks.
Great. Mr. Social Studies does as clinical an explanation of STD's as he can, couching his terms in words that hopefully won't get a parent mad at him. The kid seem to get it. He moves on.
Five minutes late Doughboy's hand is up in the air again, waving frantically.
Mr. Social Studies throws caution to the wind and calls on Doughboy again.
"Does that mean you can get AIDS from jerking off?" he asks, deadly serious.
Mr. Social Studies, who is never at a loss for words, was at a loss for words. So, apparently, was the entire class. Thank goodness. The chaos this could have generated is unfathomable.
Only one half day of school left.
Thank goodness.
Today was one of those days for Mr. Social Studies.
You have to give him credit. He tries to drag our kids kicking and screaming into discussions of current events, which sometimes works and sometimes doesn't. In fact, it all depends on the class. Some class periods do well in this area, others don't. It all sort of depends on the make up of the kids.
Today he was having a current event discussion when one of the kids raises his hand and mentions that he thought he heard on the radio news this morning that a cure for AIDS had been discovered. Mr. Social Studies responds that he hadn't heard that, but if it is the case, that would be a very good thing. The class then gets into a discussion about AIDS, which the kids apparently have a lot of questions about. (Which shows that they don't pay any more attention in health class than they do in science.) Mr. Social Studies explains a bit about the origins of the disease, how it's an STD, how it has decimated populations in Africa, and so on.
Doughboy raises his hand. Now there's several schools of thought when Doughboy raises his hand. One is the belief that you're delighted he's apparently paying attention and wants to contribute. The other is that you're scared to death about what might come out of his mouth.
Mr. Social Studies decides to take a gamble and calls on Doughboy.
"What's an STD?" he asks.
Great. Mr. Social Studies does as clinical an explanation of STD's as he can, couching his terms in words that hopefully won't get a parent mad at him. The kid seem to get it. He moves on.
Five minutes late Doughboy's hand is up in the air again, waving frantically.
Mr. Social Studies throws caution to the wind and calls on Doughboy again.
"Does that mean you can get AIDS from jerking off?" he asks, deadly serious.
Mr. Social Studies, who is never at a loss for words, was at a loss for words. So, apparently, was the entire class. Thank goodness. The chaos this could have generated is unfathomable.
Only one half day of school left.
Thank goodness.
Friday, December 15, 2006
The Christmas Store
Our Parent Teacher Organization just rocks.
They are a dedicated group of volunteers who practically live in our building and who do more good than most social services agencies manage to do. Throughout the year they run a "Food For Thought" program where kids receive a backpack with enough food to get them through the weekend. (It's amazing how many of our kids don't eat between school lunch on Friday and school breakfast on Monday.) They also are there to help out with life's emergencies, such as a pair of brand new basketball shoes being stolen from a locker that need to be replaced, a kid who needs a jacket, that sort of thing. They also have chili suppers, dances, festivals, and craft shows to raise money for our Christmas Angel program where they provide Christmas in the form of food and presents to needy families from our building. This year they're taking care of families with over a 100 children. The time and labor that goes into this is mind-boggling.
But the one thing they do that really impacts the kids, that makes the biggest impression on them, is The Christmas Store.
All year long, starting the day after Christmas, these ladies hit the sales. They are zealous at buying things at 75% or more off. The items themselves aren't junk, but actually are pretty nice - jewelry, perfume, stuffed animals, candles, and more. They will stockpile these items and in the week before we leave for the Christmas break they will take our large group instruction room (a room we use for everything from luncheons to multi-class labs) and turn it into The Christmas Store. The items are attractively displayed on tables, there's a cash register, they have holiday music playing, candy canes to snack on, in truth, it looks nicer than most mall stores.
And everything in there is priced from $1 to $5.
Quite simply, they are providing our students with a chance to buy presents for their parents, friends, family, and yes, even teachers, at a price they can afford, and without having to have a parent help them do it. This little bit of independence is something these kids love. It may sound stupid to a grown up (especially if you're like me and you're avoiding malls and shopping centers like the plague) but to be eleven and to be able to take $2 and buy your mom a present all by yourself is a big thing.
The Christmas Store is open all day long and the kids are very good about politely asking if they can leave class to go. I usually let them, as we're winding the semester down this week and there's really nothing that they absolutely can't miss (now that my last test is over). What's fun, for me, is when they return. They usually aren't gone long thanks to Mrs. Math who took them all over for a few minutes on the day the store opened to check it out so they knew what was there. When they return they have these HUGE smiles on their faces and they're carrying brightly colored Christmas gift bags full of goodies nestled in tissue paper (I love the fact that they don't even have to wrap the gifts - they're ready to go!).
The other day I saw the tiniest little sixth grader dragging four huge bags down the hall with a smile that could of lit up the Las Vegas strip.
Interestingly enough, from the conversations I hear, the kids aren't in there buying things for themselves, but are really buying things for others. I hear things like, "Oh man, did you see those candles in there? My mom would love those!" or "My sister is going to love that stuffed bear I got!" It's reassuring to know that most of them have the right idea.
The Christmas Store has been so popular this year that two of the PTO ladies took a road trip and some cash and hit some more sales to restock as they'd nearly sold everything out. They've extended the hours through Monday, our last full day of school.
The kids are ecstatic. And they're discovering something some of us tend to forget. It truly is more fun to give than to receive!
They are a dedicated group of volunteers who practically live in our building and who do more good than most social services agencies manage to do. Throughout the year they run a "Food For Thought" program where kids receive a backpack with enough food to get them through the weekend. (It's amazing how many of our kids don't eat between school lunch on Friday and school breakfast on Monday.) They also are there to help out with life's emergencies, such as a pair of brand new basketball shoes being stolen from a locker that need to be replaced, a kid who needs a jacket, that sort of thing. They also have chili suppers, dances, festivals, and craft shows to raise money for our Christmas Angel program where they provide Christmas in the form of food and presents to needy families from our building. This year they're taking care of families with over a 100 children. The time and labor that goes into this is mind-boggling.
But the one thing they do that really impacts the kids, that makes the biggest impression on them, is The Christmas Store.
All year long, starting the day after Christmas, these ladies hit the sales. They are zealous at buying things at 75% or more off. The items themselves aren't junk, but actually are pretty nice - jewelry, perfume, stuffed animals, candles, and more. They will stockpile these items and in the week before we leave for the Christmas break they will take our large group instruction room (a room we use for everything from luncheons to multi-class labs) and turn it into The Christmas Store. The items are attractively displayed on tables, there's a cash register, they have holiday music playing, candy canes to snack on, in truth, it looks nicer than most mall stores.
And everything in there is priced from $1 to $5.
Quite simply, they are providing our students with a chance to buy presents for their parents, friends, family, and yes, even teachers, at a price they can afford, and without having to have a parent help them do it. This little bit of independence is something these kids love. It may sound stupid to a grown up (especially if you're like me and you're avoiding malls and shopping centers like the plague) but to be eleven and to be able to take $2 and buy your mom a present all by yourself is a big thing.
The Christmas Store is open all day long and the kids are very good about politely asking if they can leave class to go. I usually let them, as we're winding the semester down this week and there's really nothing that they absolutely can't miss (now that my last test is over). What's fun, for me, is when they return. They usually aren't gone long thanks to Mrs. Math who took them all over for a few minutes on the day the store opened to check it out so they knew what was there. When they return they have these HUGE smiles on their faces and they're carrying brightly colored Christmas gift bags full of goodies nestled in tissue paper (I love the fact that they don't even have to wrap the gifts - they're ready to go!).
The other day I saw the tiniest little sixth grader dragging four huge bags down the hall with a smile that could of lit up the Las Vegas strip.
Interestingly enough, from the conversations I hear, the kids aren't in there buying things for themselves, but are really buying things for others. I hear things like, "Oh man, did you see those candles in there? My mom would love those!" or "My sister is going to love that stuffed bear I got!" It's reassuring to know that most of them have the right idea.
The Christmas Store has been so popular this year that two of the PTO ladies took a road trip and some cash and hit some more sales to restock as they'd nearly sold everything out. They've extended the hours through Monday, our last full day of school.
The kids are ecstatic. And they're discovering something some of us tend to forget. It truly is more fun to give than to receive!
Thursday, December 14, 2006
Catching Us At Our Best.
Mrs. Eagle and I have joined a gym. Actually, Mrs. Eagle already belonged to this gym, but found that she wasn't going very often. It's boring when you go by yourself. So, I went down and joined the other day. Our goal is to go 3-4 days a week. We figure this is one way to get out of the building at a halfway decent time, and we need the exercise. Walking was fun, but we weren't as committed to it this year as we were last year, and besides, I wanted to get some weight training in.
So Wednesday we go and hit the gym. We did about 25 minutes on the bikes, then decided to do some weight training (which I really enjoy although by the time we were finished I was wondering if I'd be able to use my arms the following day). Mrs. Eagle, an Army veteran, knows her way around a gym, and it's almost like having a personal trainer.
We were taking turns doing crunches which is probably one of the most unattractive things a 44-year old chubby woman can do. I finished my set, get up to let Mrs. Eagle have her turn and look up across the gym and see Rodeo Girl and her mother standing at the front counter of the gym.
Oh great.
Too late, they've spotted me and are waving frantically. I wave back and smile, trying to forget that I'm sweating, my hair is a mess, and I'm beet red in the face. On the way out I do the polite thing and chit chat a bit with the two of them, wondering all the time how this was going to play out at school.
So this morning I'm standing in my room talking with one of my kids during locker time and I hear Rodeo Girl practically screaming at the top of her lungs, "Guess what? I saw Mrs. Bluebird at the gym last night working out and lifting weights and everything!"
Oh boy.
So Wednesday we go and hit the gym. We did about 25 minutes on the bikes, then decided to do some weight training (which I really enjoy although by the time we were finished I was wondering if I'd be able to use my arms the following day). Mrs. Eagle, an Army veteran, knows her way around a gym, and it's almost like having a personal trainer.
We were taking turns doing crunches which is probably one of the most unattractive things a 44-year old chubby woman can do. I finished my set, get up to let Mrs. Eagle have her turn and look up across the gym and see Rodeo Girl and her mother standing at the front counter of the gym.
Oh great.
Too late, they've spotted me and are waving frantically. I wave back and smile, trying to forget that I'm sweating, my hair is a mess, and I'm beet red in the face. On the way out I do the polite thing and chit chat a bit with the two of them, wondering all the time how this was going to play out at school.
So this morning I'm standing in my room talking with one of my kids during locker time and I hear Rodeo Girl practically screaming at the top of her lungs, "Guess what? I saw Mrs. Bluebird at the gym last night working out and lifting weights and everything!"
Oh boy.
Saturday, December 09, 2006
And just what, exactly, is normal?
We have a number of student teachers in the building this semester and it's not unusual for one of them to ask me if they can come sit in on a class and do an observation. No problem for me as I'm pretty used to having people in my room. One year my classroom was right by the front office and I swore The Principal used my classroom as a tour stop. I tend to get people wanting to observe because I'm one of the few teachers who has my students seated at tables in groups and I use a lot of hand's on activities.
In any case, I had one of the student teachers this week during my Fourth Period Class which is actually one of my better ones. Interestingly enough it's packed with special education kids but for once they really aren't, for the most part, behavior problems. They tend to work hard even if they don't do well academically, they really try and that counts for a lot with me.
I do have one kid in there who's really....well....odd. Doughboy has one of the roundest faces I've ever seen and he's a bit chubby and very pale. He's really different. He talks really fast, and low, so most of the time no one can understand him. I'm always having to slow him down and repeat things until I get the gist of what he's saying. He drives nearly everyone he sits by nuts because he has conversations with himself or with anyone who'll listen. He's not loud, but it does get old after a while.
Anyhow. I get the kids started on the activity for the day and swing back by the student teacher to see if she has any questions. She does.
"Hum, that kid over there," she says nodding her head toward Doughboy. "He has two pairs of glasses on."
I don't even bother to look because for the past two weeks Doughboy has started wearing two pairs of glasses, one placed on top of the other. I asked him about it and he said it helped him to see better. I sugested he asked his mom to take him to get his prescription checked and he said no, he liked wearing the two pair of glasses just fine.
"Oh," I said, "That's just Doughboy."
"Is that normal?" she asks.
I pause for a minute before I answer. "For Doughboy, yes, it's normal. For any other kid, probably not."
In any case, I had one of the student teachers this week during my Fourth Period Class which is actually one of my better ones. Interestingly enough it's packed with special education kids but for once they really aren't, for the most part, behavior problems. They tend to work hard even if they don't do well academically, they really try and that counts for a lot with me.
I do have one kid in there who's really....well....odd. Doughboy has one of the roundest faces I've ever seen and he's a bit chubby and very pale. He's really different. He talks really fast, and low, so most of the time no one can understand him. I'm always having to slow him down and repeat things until I get the gist of what he's saying. He drives nearly everyone he sits by nuts because he has conversations with himself or with anyone who'll listen. He's not loud, but it does get old after a while.
Anyhow. I get the kids started on the activity for the day and swing back by the student teacher to see if she has any questions. She does.
"Hum, that kid over there," she says nodding her head toward Doughboy. "He has two pairs of glasses on."
I don't even bother to look because for the past two weeks Doughboy has started wearing two pairs of glasses, one placed on top of the other. I asked him about it and he said it helped him to see better. I sugested he asked his mom to take him to get his prescription checked and he said no, he liked wearing the two pair of glasses just fine.
"Oh," I said, "That's just Doughboy."
"Is that normal?" she asks.
I pause for a minute before I answer. "For Doughboy, yes, it's normal. For any other kid, probably not."
When that little voice in your head escapes...
Mrs. Language related this story to me and it's just too good not to share.
I have a kid in my homeroom I call Boston Boy. This kid has never ever lived or traveled North of the Mason Dixon Line but he sounds like he's straight from South Boston. I have a friend, Trish Murphy, from Southy and Boston Boy could be kin to her based on accent alone. We've never met Dad, but Mom is pure Southern so goodness knows where he picked it up.
Anyhow, Boston Boy is pretty bright, a hard rock music lover, and a kid without a lot of patience. Mrs. Language is doing a class discussion the other day (I believe they were working on descriptive writing) where she would show the kids pictures and she'd call on them to describe it as vividly as they could.
As she's doing this, she's standing near Boston Boys desk and he's sort of leaning forward with his elbow on his desk, and his head propped in his hand. She calls on a student in class to give her description of the picture and she realizes that Boston Boy is mumbling something.
"Oh man, just shut the hell up," she hears him mumble.
The student finishes, and another student is called and begins going over his description.
"Jeez, you're just so damn stupid," she hears Boston Boy mumble.
By this point Mrs. Language decides she needs to put a stop to Boston Boy's mumbling even though it appears no one but she can hear it.
"Boston," she hisses at him. "Watch your mouth!"
She relates that at this point Boston Boy spins around to look at her, his mouth hanging open and his eyes all but popping out of his head. "You heard me?" he asks.
"Of course I heard you," she says. "You're lucky the other kids didnt."
"But I didn't know I was saying anything out loud!" he whispers back at her. "I thought I was just talking in my head."
I have a kid in my homeroom I call Boston Boy. This kid has never ever lived or traveled North of the Mason Dixon Line but he sounds like he's straight from South Boston. I have a friend, Trish Murphy, from Southy and Boston Boy could be kin to her based on accent alone. We've never met Dad, but Mom is pure Southern so goodness knows where he picked it up.
Anyhow, Boston Boy is pretty bright, a hard rock music lover, and a kid without a lot of patience. Mrs. Language is doing a class discussion the other day (I believe they were working on descriptive writing) where she would show the kids pictures and she'd call on them to describe it as vividly as they could.
As she's doing this, she's standing near Boston Boys desk and he's sort of leaning forward with his elbow on his desk, and his head propped in his hand. She calls on a student in class to give her description of the picture and she realizes that Boston Boy is mumbling something.
"Oh man, just shut the hell up," she hears him mumble.
The student finishes, and another student is called and begins going over his description.
"Jeez, you're just so damn stupid," she hears Boston Boy mumble.
By this point Mrs. Language decides she needs to put a stop to Boston Boy's mumbling even though it appears no one but she can hear it.
"Boston," she hisses at him. "Watch your mouth!"
She relates that at this point Boston Boy spins around to look at her, his mouth hanging open and his eyes all but popping out of his head. "You heard me?" he asks.
"Of course I heard you," she says. "You're lucky the other kids didnt."
"But I didn't know I was saying anything out loud!" he whispers back at her. "I thought I was just talking in my head."
Tuesday, December 05, 2006
And I'd lose my head if it wasn't attached...
Just when we thought that Mrs. Faraway had given up, I find myself the recipient of one of her emails this morning.
Oh yippe.
Not only are her emails ripe with typographical errors (we particularly enjoy her use of "studing" for "studying") but she types in ALL FREAKING CAPS LIKE SHE'S YELLING. Having tried to walk this woman through our school website over the telephone I'm fairly certain she isn't yelling, but happens to be completely clueless about her breach of email etiquette.
Anyhow, I'm giving a benchmark test today, which is boring beyond belief, and I see her email pop up. She wants to know when I'm handing back the study guides for our next unit test because she needs to work with her daughter on memorizing them word for word so she can parrot the answers back and not have a clue what any of it is about. She claims that her daughter turned it in on Friday.
Well, that's pretty interesting because I didn't collect the study guides, and when I went through the homework that was turned into the homework basket, there were no study guides in there. From anyone. I informed Mrs. Faraway of such and told her that I would have an additional study guide ready for her daughter when she came to class, even though my usual practice is if a kid loses a study guide (or anything else for that matter), they better find a friend and change for the copier. However, since her daughter is on an IEP, I do make exceptions (and how) for her.
Mrs. Faraway responds that she appreciated that I would give her daughter a new study guide, but she would really like the old one (which was completed) and that she has no reason not to believe her daughter so apparently, I've lost her study guide. After all, her daughter insisted that she turned it in. What other possibility could it be? I had to have lost it.
At this point I'm shaking my head over the fact that I have yet another parent who believes everything that comes out of the mouth of a seventh grader. If there's one thing that a seventh grader is good at, it is obfuscating the truth. Or, if you prefer, lying.
When Faraway Girl comes in to class, I call her over and hand her another study guide.
"You need to take this home and make sure your mother sees this," I tell her.
She gives me one of her patented blank looks. There are times that I swear I can hear the wind whistling between her ears. Loudly.
"But I have one already," she says.
"Really. Well, your mother says you don't."
"But I do," she insists again. "And it's filled out." At this point she goes to her binder, opens it up, and lo and behold, there's her perfectly completed study guide!
"Well an extra one wouldn't kill either one of you," I say. "Just in case it gets misplaced." She gives me a look like she's completely baffled (which she probably was) and puts the new one in her binder.
I email her mother and let her know I gave her daughter a new study guide. However, interestingly enough, her daughter insisted that she didn't need a study guide because she still had one in her binder, which she did, in fact, produce. I suggested that perhaps her mother might, just maybe, have my class confused with another one?
At least she said thank you. But I'm still annoyed that she was convinced I'd lost the stupid thing in the first place.
Oh yippe.
Not only are her emails ripe with typographical errors (we particularly enjoy her use of "studing" for "studying") but she types in ALL FREAKING CAPS LIKE SHE'S YELLING. Having tried to walk this woman through our school website over the telephone I'm fairly certain she isn't yelling, but happens to be completely clueless about her breach of email etiquette.
Anyhow, I'm giving a benchmark test today, which is boring beyond belief, and I see her email pop up. She wants to know when I'm handing back the study guides for our next unit test because she needs to work with her daughter on memorizing them word for word so she can parrot the answers back and not have a clue what any of it is about. She claims that her daughter turned it in on Friday.
Well, that's pretty interesting because I didn't collect the study guides, and when I went through the homework that was turned into the homework basket, there were no study guides in there. From anyone. I informed Mrs. Faraway of such and told her that I would have an additional study guide ready for her daughter when she came to class, even though my usual practice is if a kid loses a study guide (or anything else for that matter), they better find a friend and change for the copier. However, since her daughter is on an IEP, I do make exceptions (and how) for her.
Mrs. Faraway responds that she appreciated that I would give her daughter a new study guide, but she would really like the old one (which was completed) and that she has no reason not to believe her daughter so apparently, I've lost her study guide. After all, her daughter insisted that she turned it in. What other possibility could it be? I had to have lost it.
At this point I'm shaking my head over the fact that I have yet another parent who believes everything that comes out of the mouth of a seventh grader. If there's one thing that a seventh grader is good at, it is obfuscating the truth. Or, if you prefer, lying.
When Faraway Girl comes in to class, I call her over and hand her another study guide.
"You need to take this home and make sure your mother sees this," I tell her.
She gives me one of her patented blank looks. There are times that I swear I can hear the wind whistling between her ears. Loudly.
"But I have one already," she says.
"Really. Well, your mother says you don't."
"But I do," she insists again. "And it's filled out." At this point she goes to her binder, opens it up, and lo and behold, there's her perfectly completed study guide!
"Well an extra one wouldn't kill either one of you," I say. "Just in case it gets misplaced." She gives me a look like she's completely baffled (which she probably was) and puts the new one in her binder.
I email her mother and let her know I gave her daughter a new study guide. However, interestingly enough, her daughter insisted that she didn't need a study guide because she still had one in her binder, which she did, in fact, produce. I suggested that perhaps her mother might, just maybe, have my class confused with another one?
At least she said thank you. But I'm still annoyed that she was convinced I'd lost the stupid thing in the first place.
Friday, December 01, 2006
And what do you do for fun??!
We were having a discussion in my Fifth Period class the other day about cell processes, including endocytosis. Knowing that my kids are pretty much obsessed with video games I told them that endocytosis, where a cell engulfs a large particle and brings it into the cell, is a lot like Pacman.
This leads to a conversation about how exocytosis (where the cell expells a large particle) is a lot like another character from another video game, one which I wasn't familiar with. I start asking them about this when one of my kids asks, "Don't you know anything about video games?"
"Well, no, I don't really. We don't have any at home." My only familiarity with video games is from the games we used to play in the student union way back when I was in college the first time. That's how I knew about Pacman. And Tetris. But I've never owned a gaming system.
There are gasps of disbelief.
"You don't have any video games? No PS2, nothing like that?" a few of them cry. They are stunned. How on earth can someone function without video games?
"Nope. Not one." I'm kind of enjoying the astonished looks on their faces.
"But what do you do for fun?" one of them finally asks.
"Oh, I read a lot. Mr. Bluebird and I have lots and lots of books and we read a lot. We also watch a lot of DVD's. And we play games, you know, like chess and Risk."
They find this incredibly odd.
One of my kids, Pig Pen, who is very messy but very, very bright, says, "You know, it's a good thing you and Mr. Bluebird don't have any kids, because it would be really mean to have them grow up without a video game system."
Amazing what these kids consider to be necessary for happiness, isn't it?
This leads to a conversation about how exocytosis (where the cell expells a large particle) is a lot like another character from another video game, one which I wasn't familiar with. I start asking them about this when one of my kids asks, "Don't you know anything about video games?"
"Well, no, I don't really. We don't have any at home." My only familiarity with video games is from the games we used to play in the student union way back when I was in college the first time. That's how I knew about Pacman. And Tetris. But I've never owned a gaming system.
There are gasps of disbelief.
"You don't have any video games? No PS2, nothing like that?" a few of them cry. They are stunned. How on earth can someone function without video games?
"Nope. Not one." I'm kind of enjoying the astonished looks on their faces.
"But what do you do for fun?" one of them finally asks.
"Oh, I read a lot. Mr. Bluebird and I have lots and lots of books and we read a lot. We also watch a lot of DVD's. And we play games, you know, like chess and Risk."
They find this incredibly odd.
One of my kids, Pig Pen, who is very messy but very, very bright, says, "You know, it's a good thing you and Mr. Bluebird don't have any kids, because it would be really mean to have them grow up without a video game system."
Amazing what these kids consider to be necessary for happiness, isn't it?
Thursday, November 30, 2006
Worth Checking Out
It's that time again! Check out this week's Carnival of Education hosted this week by A History Teacher. You always find good material at the Carnival! But bring your own popcorn!
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
Promises, promises
Thanksgiving holiday was wonderful. There's nothing like sitting on your butt, eating too much, spending time with Poppa Bird, and just relaxing. (Yeah, I did some paper grading and wrote some quizzes, but still...)
However, now that we're back the kids are already geared up for Christmas vacation, and their attention spans and behavior are even worse. To top it off, although it's been unusually warm here for November (more like spring and a wonderful time for a fire drill), they're calling for rain and snow later this week.
All you have to say around here is "possibility of snow" and the kids are convinced that school will be cancelled.
And that calls for more pinging throughout the classroom. Which drives us all crazy because hey, we're actually trying to teach something here!!!
And Mr. Social Studies is making sure we know, exactly, how many days until break. Bless his heart.
However, now that we're back the kids are already geared up for Christmas vacation, and their attention spans and behavior are even worse. To top it off, although it's been unusually warm here for November (more like spring and a wonderful time for a fire drill), they're calling for rain and snow later this week.
All you have to say around here is "possibility of snow" and the kids are convinced that school will be cancelled.
And that calls for more pinging throughout the classroom. Which drives us all crazy because hey, we're actually trying to teach something here!!!
And Mr. Social Studies is making sure we know, exactly, how many days until break. Bless his heart.
When Hormones Hit
It has often been said that teaching middle school is like dealing with hormones on feet. And, when it comes down to it, seventh grade is usually when it hits and hits hard. I remember telling Mr. Social Studies last year (his first year teaching after 26 years in the military) that all the good kids will get hormones for Christmas and get nuts and the bad kids will outgrow it at Christmas and turn out okay. The second week of January he assured me that I was right on the money.
Well..Faraway Girl has apparently been hit with the Hormone Hammer. Remember her? She's my very special ed kid who's mother is VERY INVOLVED, and who drives us all crazy with her constant emails. She has, if nothing else, turned her daughter into a trained parrot who can memorize test questions given a study guide, but can't begin to tell you what any of that means. Faraway Girl gets home from school and Mom sits her down and they do nothing but study and do school work, fix dinner, eat, and do more school work until time for bed. Actually, we all think mom is doing most of the work because Faraway Girl has such awful processing problems that there's times she lucky to spell her name correctly. Her daughter, who spends most of my class with the most distant look in her eyes, twirling her hair and maybe, if we're lucky, opening her book on her own, has learned that people will do things for her.
Mr. Social Studies and I were commenting several months ago that one of these days Faraway Girl is going to have it up to HERE with sitting at home all night doing more school work, and tell mom to take a flying leap. And chances are that will happen as soon as she discovers boys and socializing with her girlfriends. Her sixth grade teachers suspected the same thing but thought it probably wouldn't happen until high school.
It has happened this month. There was an IEP review meeting for Faraway Girl (which Mrs. Fish fogot to invite any of us to and you can bet that's one meeting we would have remembered) and Mrs. Faraway didn't come. Her husband, who rarely says anything in any meeting we've been to with him, came instead. He insisted that his wife was all stressed out about school, that their daughter was a terror at home, refusing to work, wouldn't obey mother, blah, blah, blah, blah....and they didn't know what to do. Apparently they're going to put her in a homework tutoring program so she can sit there for two hours and someone else can see if she'll attempt to do any work on her own.
Good luck.
Faraway Girl has discovered boys.
Well..Faraway Girl has apparently been hit with the Hormone Hammer. Remember her? She's my very special ed kid who's mother is VERY INVOLVED, and who drives us all crazy with her constant emails. She has, if nothing else, turned her daughter into a trained parrot who can memorize test questions given a study guide, but can't begin to tell you what any of that means. Faraway Girl gets home from school and Mom sits her down and they do nothing but study and do school work, fix dinner, eat, and do more school work until time for bed. Actually, we all think mom is doing most of the work because Faraway Girl has such awful processing problems that there's times she lucky to spell her name correctly. Her daughter, who spends most of my class with the most distant look in her eyes, twirling her hair and maybe, if we're lucky, opening her book on her own, has learned that people will do things for her.
Mr. Social Studies and I were commenting several months ago that one of these days Faraway Girl is going to have it up to HERE with sitting at home all night doing more school work, and tell mom to take a flying leap. And chances are that will happen as soon as she discovers boys and socializing with her girlfriends. Her sixth grade teachers suspected the same thing but thought it probably wouldn't happen until high school.
It has happened this month. There was an IEP review meeting for Faraway Girl (which Mrs. Fish fogot to invite any of us to and you can bet that's one meeting we would have remembered) and Mrs. Faraway didn't come. Her husband, who rarely says anything in any meeting we've been to with him, came instead. He insisted that his wife was all stressed out about school, that their daughter was a terror at home, refusing to work, wouldn't obey mother, blah, blah, blah, blah....and they didn't know what to do. Apparently they're going to put her in a homework tutoring program so she can sit there for two hours and someone else can see if she'll attempt to do any work on her own.
Good luck.
Faraway Girl has discovered boys.
Thursday, November 23, 2006
Things I'm Thankful For
Yeah, yeah, yeah, we bloggers tend to do a lot of whining and whimpering but today is a good day to sit back and think about the things we really are thankful for. After all, if you don't, it's just another day of football, calories, and dealing with the relatives you wished lived 2,500 miles away.
1. I'm thankful that I have Mr. Bluebird in my life. He's my rock. He also puts up with my nightly "You won't freakin' believe what happened today!" stories with nary a complaint.
2. I'm thankful that Mr. Bluebird, along with Momma Bird and Poppa Bird are in good health. And that goes for me as well. I'm feeling creakier as age catches up with me, but for the most part everything's working fine.
3. I'm thankful that I work in an awesome building, with an awesome adminstration, awesome staff, and, for the most part, awesome kids. Yeah, I complain about them (and their parents) but I still look forward to going in there every day and hopefully making a difference.
4. I'm thankful that at 38 I had the guts to quit my job, go back to school, and become a teacher. I've never regretted it. Sure, I hate having to pay those student loans, but I could still be stuck in a dead-end job in an office somewhere moving paper from one box to another.
5. I'm thankful we had a chance to move down South.
6. I'm thankful that my four babbies are healty and like to snuggle and purr.
7. I'm thankful for the dear friends I have, especially Mrs. Eagle and Mrs. Language. Without them, it wouldn't be nearly as fun.
8. I'm thankful I live in a country where I can vote, even if it means waiting in line. (Did I mention I ran into one of my new voting friends at the market the other night?? What a hoot!)
9. I'm thankful that even though I feel like I'm talking to air 99% of the time, I do get a kid who comes back and tells me, "Hey, I actually learned something." I wish more of them did this.
10. I'm thankful for those special moments like where you see a star streak across the sky, the light that goes on in a kids' eyes when they get it, and a hug from my hubby.
And, I'm thankful that you all take the time out of your busy lives to even bother to read my rants. You all amaze me so much.
1. I'm thankful that I have Mr. Bluebird in my life. He's my rock. He also puts up with my nightly "You won't freakin' believe what happened today!" stories with nary a complaint.
2. I'm thankful that Mr. Bluebird, along with Momma Bird and Poppa Bird are in good health. And that goes for me as well. I'm feeling creakier as age catches up with me, but for the most part everything's working fine.
3. I'm thankful that I work in an awesome building, with an awesome adminstration, awesome staff, and, for the most part, awesome kids. Yeah, I complain about them (and their parents) but I still look forward to going in there every day and hopefully making a difference.
4. I'm thankful that at 38 I had the guts to quit my job, go back to school, and become a teacher. I've never regretted it. Sure, I hate having to pay those student loans, but I could still be stuck in a dead-end job in an office somewhere moving paper from one box to another.
5. I'm thankful we had a chance to move down South.
6. I'm thankful that my four babbies are healty and like to snuggle and purr.
7. I'm thankful for the dear friends I have, especially Mrs. Eagle and Mrs. Language. Without them, it wouldn't be nearly as fun.
8. I'm thankful I live in a country where I can vote, even if it means waiting in line. (Did I mention I ran into one of my new voting friends at the market the other night?? What a hoot!)
9. I'm thankful that even though I feel like I'm talking to air 99% of the time, I do get a kid who comes back and tells me, "Hey, I actually learned something." I wish more of them did this.
10. I'm thankful for those special moments like where you see a star streak across the sky, the light that goes on in a kids' eyes when they get it, and a hug from my hubby.
And, I'm thankful that you all take the time out of your busy lives to even bother to read my rants. You all amaze me so much.
Wednesday, November 22, 2006
Man, my heritage is showing.
I grew up in Los Angeles. Can you tell?
I left there in '92, but, like, ohmigod, I haven't changed much, have I?
You're totally like 74% California!
Ahhh... a true California Aficionado! That's just like a California Avocado but not as green. Come on over and we'll make some guacamole and chips and watch a CHP chase on the news.
How California are You?
I left there in '92, but, like, ohmigod, I haven't changed much, have I?
The Payoff
I'm not above bribing my kids.
I've had to be out of the building a lot more this year since The Principal has asked me to go to a conference and participate in a "breaking ranks" group. This means meetings and being away from my kids. I love the idea of participating in a group that's looking for ways to improve things for the kids, but at the same time I hate leaving them with a sub.
I always hope the sub survives the day.
So, I've bribed them with a day in the lab using the microscopes to look at stuff. No grade, no assignment, just having fun looking at things. It worked and the payoff day was yesterday. Since yesterday was the last day of school before Thanksgiving break, and the kids were bouncing off the walls anyway, it worked out pretty well. They weren't going to focus on anything anyway.
I had brought in a bunch of things for them to look at - sugar, salt, pepper, flour, ginger, wool yarn, tea, and thread. One kid brought in a container of muddy puddle water, and another brought in pond water. I also had some prepared slide sets with things like mosquito eggs, dusts, liver cells, human blood, and things none of the kids could pronounce.
The best part of the day, for me, was listening to them as they looked at stuff.
"Oh dude, that's your fingernail? Gross!"
"There's things swimming in the water! Ewww!"
"Bone looks like swiss cheese!"
"You want to look at earwax? You're disgusting!"
"I'm not touching that water. It has things in it."
"Cool! Look at the salt!"
"Pepper looks like dirt. I'm not eating it again."
"That's corn? You mean we eat that?"
"You just pulled out your own eyelash to look at?"
Ah, the lives of seventh graders.
I've had to be out of the building a lot more this year since The Principal has asked me to go to a conference and participate in a "breaking ranks" group. This means meetings and being away from my kids. I love the idea of participating in a group that's looking for ways to improve things for the kids, but at the same time I hate leaving them with a sub.
I always hope the sub survives the day.
So, I've bribed them with a day in the lab using the microscopes to look at stuff. No grade, no assignment, just having fun looking at things. It worked and the payoff day was yesterday. Since yesterday was the last day of school before Thanksgiving break, and the kids were bouncing off the walls anyway, it worked out pretty well. They weren't going to focus on anything anyway.
I had brought in a bunch of things for them to look at - sugar, salt, pepper, flour, ginger, wool yarn, tea, and thread. One kid brought in a container of muddy puddle water, and another brought in pond water. I also had some prepared slide sets with things like mosquito eggs, dusts, liver cells, human blood, and things none of the kids could pronounce.
The best part of the day, for me, was listening to them as they looked at stuff.
"Oh dude, that's your fingernail? Gross!"
"There's things swimming in the water! Ewww!"
"Bone looks like swiss cheese!"
"You want to look at earwax? You're disgusting!"
"I'm not touching that water. It has things in it."
"Cool! Look at the salt!"
"Pepper looks like dirt. I'm not eating it again."
"That's corn? You mean we eat that?"
"You just pulled out your own eyelash to look at?"
Ah, the lives of seventh graders.
The Project
I have, finally, finished grading all my kids' PowerPoint project on cells.
In some respects they were awesome. Great graphics, wonderful transitions, you name it. These kids, even Chopper Boy (whose mom never did come sit in and observe) did great.
However.
The content stunk.
Now, truth be told, I sort of expected this. Seventh graders do not have a lot of experience doing any sort of research or writing. They also have completely different goals for an assigment than I do. I want them to learn something. They want to get it done as fast as possible so they can get a grade (and move on to something more exciting, like video games). I give them a rubric that spells everything out in detail, but they tend not to bother to look at it (which just blows my mind...how can you do something right if you don't know what you're doing, but then again...they're seventh graders). As a result, many of them don't do a good job on what should be an easy assignment.
I did have some kids who did it right. They answered the two questions (what type of cell is the organelle found in and what does the organelle do?) and they answered in their own words. They spelled everything correctly, and they wrote solid sentences.
Then I have the kids who copied directly from the book, never realizing that after having this book for four years and reading the same material, say, 20-25 times, it just might sound familiar to me. They also copied from websites, most of which I'm also very familiar, to the point that I could tell which ones they used.
My favorite, however, were the kids who copied directly from the glossary which is an absolute no-no in my world. I don't particularly like the glossary in our book and I tell the kids they need to get the definitions from the reading which is not hard as the vocabulary words are in bold purple print. If you just copy from the glossary you don't get the context. How did I know they copied from the glossary? Because, for some reason, our glossary gives the definition for the nucleus of an atom, not the nucleus of a cell. And they all wrote the definition, word for word, out of the book. The scary thing is that we've been discussing cells now for a month and it didn't occur to them that perhaps they weren't typing in the correct definition - we finished atoms two months ago.
This also tells me that they aren't bothering to study and learn their vocabulary. Heck, they aren't bothering to open a book or do much of anything academic-related once they walk out of my room.
And I'm not alone. Mrs. Eagle reports the same results. The kids also tanked on their unit and vocabulary tests on Monday despite having the sixteen vocabulary words for a month and the study guide for two weeks. We decided that the seventh grade science classes are going to make some changes.
And they aren't going to like them. In fact, they looked downright crestfallen when I told them to start expecting - gasp! - daily quizzes over content and vocabulary. At least this way we'll be able to see what, if anything, they're actually bothering to learn.
In some respects they were awesome. Great graphics, wonderful transitions, you name it. These kids, even Chopper Boy (whose mom never did come sit in and observe) did great.
However.
The content stunk.
Now, truth be told, I sort of expected this. Seventh graders do not have a lot of experience doing any sort of research or writing. They also have completely different goals for an assigment than I do. I want them to learn something. They want to get it done as fast as possible so they can get a grade (and move on to something more exciting, like video games). I give them a rubric that spells everything out in detail, but they tend not to bother to look at it (which just blows my mind...how can you do something right if you don't know what you're doing, but then again...they're seventh graders). As a result, many of them don't do a good job on what should be an easy assignment.
I did have some kids who did it right. They answered the two questions (what type of cell is the organelle found in and what does the organelle do?) and they answered in their own words. They spelled everything correctly, and they wrote solid sentences.
Then I have the kids who copied directly from the book, never realizing that after having this book for four years and reading the same material, say, 20-25 times, it just might sound familiar to me. They also copied from websites, most of which I'm also very familiar, to the point that I could tell which ones they used.
My favorite, however, were the kids who copied directly from the glossary which is an absolute no-no in my world. I don't particularly like the glossary in our book and I tell the kids they need to get the definitions from the reading which is not hard as the vocabulary words are in bold purple print. If you just copy from the glossary you don't get the context. How did I know they copied from the glossary? Because, for some reason, our glossary gives the definition for the nucleus of an atom, not the nucleus of a cell. And they all wrote the definition, word for word, out of the book. The scary thing is that we've been discussing cells now for a month and it didn't occur to them that perhaps they weren't typing in the correct definition - we finished atoms two months ago.
This also tells me that they aren't bothering to study and learn their vocabulary. Heck, they aren't bothering to open a book or do much of anything academic-related once they walk out of my room.
And I'm not alone. Mrs. Eagle reports the same results. The kids also tanked on their unit and vocabulary tests on Monday despite having the sixteen vocabulary words for a month and the study guide for two weeks. We decided that the seventh grade science classes are going to make some changes.
And they aren't going to like them. In fact, they looked downright crestfallen when I told them to start expecting - gasp! - daily quizzes over content and vocabulary. At least this way we'll be able to see what, if anything, they're actually bothering to learn.
Friday, November 17, 2006
Squeak!
So today, while the kids are quietly pounding away at their keyboards, I'm standing at my computer verifying that projects are, indeed, being dropped into my drop box on the server (I'm having the kids turn in their projects electronically) and I see something out of the corner of my eye.
I pause. I glance to my right. Nothing. Maybe I was imagining things.
A minute or two later one of my kids lets out a "Arghghg!" and everyone freezes. "Oh my gosh, there's a mouse!" he yells.
Chaos.
Kids squeal. Girls pull their feet up off the floor. Three of my severe ADHD kids are, of course, out of their seats sprinting across the room to see the mouse up close. (At this point I'm feeling sorry for the mouse.)
"Get back to your seats and get back to work!" I bellow, giving my three sprinters The Look. "It's just a mouse. It's not going to hurt you." As I say this I'm hoping they haven't discussed the Black Plague in social studies recently. I send a note up to The Secretary and she dispatches a janitor with glue traps to set for our critter.
However.
Before the janitor arrives our mouse was playing a game of hide and seek with us. He was basically running along one wall, running behind the crates the workbooks are stored on and the worktable that holds homework basket, scissors, supplies, and all sorts of goodies. Under the table are plastic boxes of vocabulary cards, and tubs with other supplies, but nothing containing food or anything that would attract a mouse. This little guy would run out and pop out by the door (which I opened in the hopes he'd see the light and flee out to the hallway), something would move and spook him, he'd run back to the other side of the table, pop out there, then head back the other direction. I lost count of how many times he popped out where I could see him. It was actually getting to be quite entertaining.
The Janitor arrived, set down two glue traps, and left. I figured by the end of the day our friend would be trapped. However, when I checked before I headed out for the weekend, nothing was there. I'm guessing that when The Janitor walked in, and started moving the tubs around he saw his chance and took off out the door.
He is, however, not alone. We are having a huge mouse problem in the building, the likes of which we've never seen before. Mrs. Eagle has caught families of mice in her room, many of them in the cupboards under the sinks in her room. The front office has spotted mice and the Large Group Instruction room, used by the PTO for a lot of things, has quite a few of them. Mr. Social Studies suspects that the new duct work they did over the summer for the new heating/AC unit that was installed may not have been properly sealed so they're coming in the building now that it's getting cold out.
I need a class cat.
I pause. I glance to my right. Nothing. Maybe I was imagining things.
A minute or two later one of my kids lets out a "Arghghg!" and everyone freezes. "Oh my gosh, there's a mouse!" he yells.
Chaos.
Kids squeal. Girls pull their feet up off the floor. Three of my severe ADHD kids are, of course, out of their seats sprinting across the room to see the mouse up close. (At this point I'm feeling sorry for the mouse.)
"Get back to your seats and get back to work!" I bellow, giving my three sprinters The Look. "It's just a mouse. It's not going to hurt you." As I say this I'm hoping they haven't discussed the Black Plague in social studies recently. I send a note up to The Secretary and she dispatches a janitor with glue traps to set for our critter.
However.
Before the janitor arrives our mouse was playing a game of hide and seek with us. He was basically running along one wall, running behind the crates the workbooks are stored on and the worktable that holds homework basket, scissors, supplies, and all sorts of goodies. Under the table are plastic boxes of vocabulary cards, and tubs with other supplies, but nothing containing food or anything that would attract a mouse. This little guy would run out and pop out by the door (which I opened in the hopes he'd see the light and flee out to the hallway), something would move and spook him, he'd run back to the other side of the table, pop out there, then head back the other direction. I lost count of how many times he popped out where I could see him. It was actually getting to be quite entertaining.
The Janitor arrived, set down two glue traps, and left. I figured by the end of the day our friend would be trapped. However, when I checked before I headed out for the weekend, nothing was there. I'm guessing that when The Janitor walked in, and started moving the tubs around he saw his chance and took off out the door.
He is, however, not alone. We are having a huge mouse problem in the building, the likes of which we've never seen before. Mrs. Eagle has caught families of mice in her room, many of them in the cupboards under the sinks in her room. The front office has spotted mice and the Large Group Instruction room, used by the PTO for a lot of things, has quite a few of them. Mr. Social Studies suspects that the new duct work they did over the summer for the new heating/AC unit that was installed may not have been properly sealed so they're coming in the building now that it's getting cold out.
I need a class cat.
How to Avoid Grading Papers
I borrowed this from one of my favorite bloggers, Happy Chyck Wonders, who apparently borrowed it from another winner, Teacher Lady.
You can only type one word. No explanations.
Yourself: driven
Your partner: brilliant
Your hair: silver
Your Mother: critical
Your Father: reliable
Your Favorite Item: books
Your dream last night: non-existent
Your Favorite Drink: Coffee
Your Dream Car: hybrid
Your Dream Home: classic
The Room You Are In: basement
Your Ex: none
Your fear: alone
Where you Want to be in Ten Years? here
Who you hung out with last night: cats
What You're Not: satisfied
Muffins: breakfast
One of Your Wish List Items: hardwood floors
Time: short
The Last Thing You Did: supper
What You Are Wearing: sweats
Your favorite weather: autumn
Your Favorite Book: Pride & Prejudice
Last thing you ate: linguini
Your Life: chaotic
Your mood: tired
Your Best Friends: loyal
What are you thinking about right now: sleep
Your car: Saturn
What are you doing at the moment: writing
Your summer: busy
Relationship status: adored
What is on your tv: Law & Order
What is the weather like: chilly
When is the last time you laughed: two-thirty
You can only type one word. No explanations.
Yourself: driven
Your partner: brilliant
Your hair: silver
Your Mother: critical
Your Father: reliable
Your Favorite Item: books
Your dream last night: non-existent
Your Favorite Drink: Coffee
Your Dream Car: hybrid
Your Dream Home: classic
The Room You Are In: basement
Your Ex: none
Your fear: alone
Where you Want to be in Ten Years? here
Who you hung out with last night: cats
What You're Not: satisfied
Muffins: breakfast
One of Your Wish List Items: hardwood floors
Time: short
The Last Thing You Did: supper
What You Are Wearing: sweats
Your favorite weather: autumn
Your Favorite Book: Pride & Prejudice
Last thing you ate: linguini
Your Life: chaotic
Your mood: tired
Your Best Friends: loyal
What are you thinking about right now: sleep
Your car: Saturn
What are you doing at the moment: writing
Your summer: busy
Relationship status: adored
What is on your tv: Law & Order
What is the weather like: chilly
When is the last time you laughed: two-thirty
Thursday, November 16, 2006
How Can We Leave No Child Behind When the Parents Are Dragging Them Down?
Sigh.
We have this student I'll call The Brick. As in "thick as a...". Brick is s....l....o....w. Brick reads at a 2nd, maybe 3rd grade level. Brick can't read cursive writing. Brick is as unmotivated as, well, a brick. Brick doesn't turn in work, even work done in class, doesn't study, doesn't do school.
Brick is in my Title I tutoring class as he tests in the lowest 20% of our population on his state tests. I actually have an aide in the tutoring class and she practically has to sit on top of him and prod him the entire session to get him to do anything outside of misbaving, wasting time, and whining. To say that the lights are on and no body is home is being kind.
He whines well however.
He also would spend the entire school day in the bathroom if we'd let him. His favorite thing on earth to do is to come in class 5 seconds before the bell rings and then ask to go to the bathroom. He freaks when I tell him no, whines and whimpers that he'll die if he doesn't go, that he doesn't have time to go between classes, blah, blah, blah. It never occurs to him that the other 129 kids on the team can figure out how to get to the bathroom on time, and that we're not buying his song and dance. (Fortunately he doesn't have issues like the infamous Poop Boy from last year.)
We sent Brick to support team because he's failing every class and we're all but pulling our hair out trying to find a way to get this kid to learn something. We reviewed all the files, interviewed his former teachers, modified like mad for this kid and we're still looking at a kid with a 40% average. With modifications.
We recommended to have him tested for special education. It's obvious something is wrong, but until we know what we're just throwing tactics at him and hoping something sticks.
Mrs. Fish, who's in charge of the special education department, sent four different letters home informing the parent that we feel it would be in Brick's best interest, especially as he moves into high school in a year or two (or three...) to get tested into special ed, and if he qualified, to be able to serve him better. (Hey, learning to read might be a plus!) After all, he will have to pass the state graduation tests in a few years to get a high school diploma and unless he's special education labeled, he is limited by the number of times he can take the test. Special education kids can take it a zillion times or until they pass. Without it, Brick will most likely be a high school dropout.
Mom apparently got fed up with the letters and finally responded.
She wrote a big fat "NO!" on one of them and returned it.
So there.
Looks like mom wants this one left behind, doesn't it?
We have this student I'll call The Brick. As in "thick as a...". Brick is s....l....o....w. Brick reads at a 2nd, maybe 3rd grade level. Brick can't read cursive writing. Brick is as unmotivated as, well, a brick. Brick doesn't turn in work, even work done in class, doesn't study, doesn't do school.
Brick is in my Title I tutoring class as he tests in the lowest 20% of our population on his state tests. I actually have an aide in the tutoring class and she practically has to sit on top of him and prod him the entire session to get him to do anything outside of misbaving, wasting time, and whining. To say that the lights are on and no body is home is being kind.
He whines well however.
He also would spend the entire school day in the bathroom if we'd let him. His favorite thing on earth to do is to come in class 5 seconds before the bell rings and then ask to go to the bathroom. He freaks when I tell him no, whines and whimpers that he'll die if he doesn't go, that he doesn't have time to go between classes, blah, blah, blah. It never occurs to him that the other 129 kids on the team can figure out how to get to the bathroom on time, and that we're not buying his song and dance. (Fortunately he doesn't have issues like the infamous Poop Boy from last year.)
We sent Brick to support team because he's failing every class and we're all but pulling our hair out trying to find a way to get this kid to learn something. We reviewed all the files, interviewed his former teachers, modified like mad for this kid and we're still looking at a kid with a 40% average. With modifications.
We recommended to have him tested for special education. It's obvious something is wrong, but until we know what we're just throwing tactics at him and hoping something sticks.
Mrs. Fish, who's in charge of the special education department, sent four different letters home informing the parent that we feel it would be in Brick's best interest, especially as he moves into high school in a year or two (or three...) to get tested into special ed, and if he qualified, to be able to serve him better. (Hey, learning to read might be a plus!) After all, he will have to pass the state graduation tests in a few years to get a high school diploma and unless he's special education labeled, he is limited by the number of times he can take the test. Special education kids can take it a zillion times or until they pass. Without it, Brick will most likely be a high school dropout.
Mom apparently got fed up with the letters and finally responded.
She wrote a big fat "NO!" on one of them and returned it.
So there.
Looks like mom wants this one left behind, doesn't it?
Dude, I can see your drawers.
Ah, the dress code battle. Every teacher just loves to play fashion police, don't we?
That being said, it's nice when it works.
We've noticed some changes in the neighborhood the past year or so, and a few weeks ago we had one of the officers from the local anti-gang task force come in and educate us on local gangs, gang activity, how to spot gang symbols, etc. One of the things that struck home was the uniform that many gang members wear to identify themselves. We were seeing some of this on kids, especially our boys, even those as young sixth grade.
So The Principal has declared our school a safe zone, and gang free, and she's prepared to do what it takes to see that this becomes a reality. And the first battle to be waged was involving dress code, in particular sagging.
I hate sagging. Absolutely hate it. I felt like all I did my first two years was tell boys to pull up their damn pants. It looks stupid. When I see someone who's sagging my first impression is "well, there goes a moron," because what person in his right mind would wear his pants down to his crotch so he has to hold them up when he walks? I swear they look like boys who've taken a dump in their diapers.
And how come the boys' wear pants that are so loose you could fit three kids in them, but the girls wear pants so tight you're afraid they'll pop a zipper?
All parents received a letter home regarding the anti-sagging enforcement (I wish I had a copy of it handy as it was so well-written - she's a former English teacher.). We had an automatic phone call home to all parents with a message from The Principal regarding the policy. The students heard announcements every day for a week. They were told, numerous times, that any kid caught sagging was going to go to the office for an administrator to deal with them.
And the consequence was suspension.
Apparently the first two days (when ten of us were out of town at the NMSA convention) it was a bit crazy as they sent quite a number of kids home. Amazingly, only two parents complained. The next day, fewer kids went home although a few of them were the same twits from the day before.
The past week we haven't had any sent home because - gasp! - they're actually dressing better without those hideous sagging pants.
During one of the first mornings when the anti-sagging announcements were airing, one of my kids asked me what the big deal was. I thought this was interesting coming from him as he's probably the one kid in my homeroom I worry about when it comes to involvement with the wrong type of people.
"You ever hear the saying, walks like a duck, talks like a duck, must be a duck?" I ask him.
He nodded, "So what you're saying is looks like a gangbanger, walks like a gangbanger, must be a gangbanger?"
"Exactly,"
He nods. "Makes sense to me."
Nice to see that sometimes they realize we're not just acting like the fashion police because we're old fuddy-duddies.
That being said, it's nice when it works.
We've noticed some changes in the neighborhood the past year or so, and a few weeks ago we had one of the officers from the local anti-gang task force come in and educate us on local gangs, gang activity, how to spot gang symbols, etc. One of the things that struck home was the uniform that many gang members wear to identify themselves. We were seeing some of this on kids, especially our boys, even those as young sixth grade.
So The Principal has declared our school a safe zone, and gang free, and she's prepared to do what it takes to see that this becomes a reality. And the first battle to be waged was involving dress code, in particular sagging.
I hate sagging. Absolutely hate it. I felt like all I did my first two years was tell boys to pull up their damn pants. It looks stupid. When I see someone who's sagging my first impression is "well, there goes a moron," because what person in his right mind would wear his pants down to his crotch so he has to hold them up when he walks? I swear they look like boys who've taken a dump in their diapers.
And how come the boys' wear pants that are so loose you could fit three kids in them, but the girls wear pants so tight you're afraid they'll pop a zipper?
All parents received a letter home regarding the anti-sagging enforcement (I wish I had a copy of it handy as it was so well-written - she's a former English teacher.). We had an automatic phone call home to all parents with a message from The Principal regarding the policy. The students heard announcements every day for a week. They were told, numerous times, that any kid caught sagging was going to go to the office for an administrator to deal with them.
And the consequence was suspension.
Apparently the first two days (when ten of us were out of town at the NMSA convention) it was a bit crazy as they sent quite a number of kids home. Amazingly, only two parents complained. The next day, fewer kids went home although a few of them were the same twits from the day before.
The past week we haven't had any sent home because - gasp! - they're actually dressing better without those hideous sagging pants.
During one of the first mornings when the anti-sagging announcements were airing, one of my kids asked me what the big deal was. I thought this was interesting coming from him as he's probably the one kid in my homeroom I worry about when it comes to involvement with the wrong type of people.
"You ever hear the saying, walks like a duck, talks like a duck, must be a duck?" I ask him.
He nodded, "So what you're saying is looks like a gangbanger, walks like a gangbanger, must be a gangbanger?"
"Exactly,"
He nods. "Makes sense to me."
Nice to see that sometimes they realize we're not just acting like the fashion police because we're old fuddy-duddies.
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
Hover...hover...hover.
We have decided that this is the Year of the Meddling Parent. Actually Mrs. Language wanted to call it the Year of the Dumbass Parent, but we figured that was too generic.
Case in point.
We have a mom I'll call Helicopter Mom because she's one of those moms who hovers over her child (apparently Time Magazine did a recent story on this phenomenom). Her son, Chopper Boy, is a great kid. He's polite, he's studious, and a very good student. His mother, however, doesn't seem to think so. I have no idea where she got the idea that her child is slow, but she's said, numerous times, that he is. Maybe it's because his handwriting isn't the best, or perhaps during a phase of his life in elementary school something was difficult, but honestly, this kid is one of my better students. Of course, part of it is because he does every single homework assignment, every single opportunity for extra credit, and he studies for every test. This is because Helicopter Mom is hovering over her child making sure he's dotting his "i's" and crossing his "t's" and all but doing his work for him. He was out sick one week but she insisted bringing him to school after everyone was dismissed to sit in my room and take a make-up test so he wouldn't get too far behind. The kid looked like he needed to be in bed, but he struggled through it. I wouldn't have been surprised if he'd been running a fever.
This past week Mrs. Eagle, Mrs. Robin, and I introduced our Cell Organelle PowerPoint project. We used to have the kids make physical models of plant or animal cells with all the organelles labeled but decided against it for several reasons. One, we're sick of grading parents' work. It's obvious that many of the projects weren't done by 12 or 13-year olds, and was even more obvious when you asked a kid a question about the project and they just blinked at you. Second, we just don't have the space to sit 100 or so projects in our room. And third, with 52% of our kids on free and reduced lunch, many parents don't have the resources to buy supplies to make a project, and then you have the parents who have the money who spend $50 to make a project for their kids. It's just easier to have them do an in-class technology project - this way we know what they can do, and they're getting tech skills in the bargain.
I get an email from Helicopter Mom that she does not approve of this project. (Since when did she get approval over our assignments?) She wanted to send me an email to afford me the opportunity to "explain" myself before she took her complaints "further". She does not feel that it's fair to require the students to do a technology project since "most of your students probably don't know PowerPoint and I'm sure most of their parents don't either." Considering that 90% of my kids, by a show of hands, informed me that they know PowerPoint, I don't think this is an issue. However, since apparently her child types slow and doesn't know PowerPoint and "I don't know PowerPoint so I can't help him", she has translated this to mean "most of my students". Her email rambled on about how can I expect them to finish a project in five days, without any instruction, how it wasn't fair, how her child would fail, blah, blah, blah.
The real crux of the matter is that she can't do his project for him. And this is sending her into orbit.
I respond to her email and stated:
1. I teach the kids how to do a PowerPoint during the course of the week.
2. The science department has done projects like this in the past VERY SUCCESSFULLY and this includes special education students as well.
3. If she looked at the rubric she would realize that the only way to fail this assignment is to not turn in anything. Honestly, a kid tries and they pass. It may not be an A but they pass.
4. This is a science department decision because we want to see what the kids can do, not their parents. (I'm sure that pissed her off.)
5. Chopper Boy is bright, hard-working, and can be successful as long as no one is out there convincing him otherwise.
6. She's welcome to come in to my room any time and observe and I would be glad to teach her PowerPoint as well.
(As an aside, when I do these technology projects, by about the second day the kids are just flying along teaching each other the tips and tricks on how to use the PowerPoint program and I'm all but bored out of my mind. I've seen a complete novice on Monday turn in a 25-slide project by Friday. It isn't hard at all.)
Helicopter Mom send me a somewhat apologetic email stating that she felt somewhat reassured that I was going to help her son learn PowerPoint but it still wasn't "fair". Whatever. And she'd try to stop by and observe. (Oh whoppee).
Her kid has almost finished his project by day three. He's doing great. He'll probably get an A. And I may be wrong, but I think he's glad that he's doing something on his own without that mother of his hovering over him.
Case in point.
We have a mom I'll call Helicopter Mom because she's one of those moms who hovers over her child (apparently Time Magazine did a recent story on this phenomenom). Her son, Chopper Boy, is a great kid. He's polite, he's studious, and a very good student. His mother, however, doesn't seem to think so. I have no idea where she got the idea that her child is slow, but she's said, numerous times, that he is. Maybe it's because his handwriting isn't the best, or perhaps during a phase of his life in elementary school something was difficult, but honestly, this kid is one of my better students. Of course, part of it is because he does every single homework assignment, every single opportunity for extra credit, and he studies for every test. This is because Helicopter Mom is hovering over her child making sure he's dotting his "i's" and crossing his "t's" and all but doing his work for him. He was out sick one week but she insisted bringing him to school after everyone was dismissed to sit in my room and take a make-up test so he wouldn't get too far behind. The kid looked like he needed to be in bed, but he struggled through it. I wouldn't have been surprised if he'd been running a fever.
This past week Mrs. Eagle, Mrs. Robin, and I introduced our Cell Organelle PowerPoint project. We used to have the kids make physical models of plant or animal cells with all the organelles labeled but decided against it for several reasons. One, we're sick of grading parents' work. It's obvious that many of the projects weren't done by 12 or 13-year olds, and was even more obvious when you asked a kid a question about the project and they just blinked at you. Second, we just don't have the space to sit 100 or so projects in our room. And third, with 52% of our kids on free and reduced lunch, many parents don't have the resources to buy supplies to make a project, and then you have the parents who have the money who spend $50 to make a project for their kids. It's just easier to have them do an in-class technology project - this way we know what they can do, and they're getting tech skills in the bargain.
I get an email from Helicopter Mom that she does not approve of this project. (Since when did she get approval over our assignments?) She wanted to send me an email to afford me the opportunity to "explain" myself before she took her complaints "further". She does not feel that it's fair to require the students to do a technology project since "most of your students probably don't know PowerPoint and I'm sure most of their parents don't either." Considering that 90% of my kids, by a show of hands, informed me that they know PowerPoint, I don't think this is an issue. However, since apparently her child types slow and doesn't know PowerPoint and "I don't know PowerPoint so I can't help him", she has translated this to mean "most of my students". Her email rambled on about how can I expect them to finish a project in five days, without any instruction, how it wasn't fair, how her child would fail, blah, blah, blah.
The real crux of the matter is that she can't do his project for him. And this is sending her into orbit.
I respond to her email and stated:
1. I teach the kids how to do a PowerPoint during the course of the week.
2. The science department has done projects like this in the past VERY SUCCESSFULLY and this includes special education students as well.
3. If she looked at the rubric she would realize that the only way to fail this assignment is to not turn in anything. Honestly, a kid tries and they pass. It may not be an A but they pass.
4. This is a science department decision because we want to see what the kids can do, not their parents. (I'm sure that pissed her off.)
5. Chopper Boy is bright, hard-working, and can be successful as long as no one is out there convincing him otherwise.
6. She's welcome to come in to my room any time and observe and I would be glad to teach her PowerPoint as well.
(As an aside, when I do these technology projects, by about the second day the kids are just flying along teaching each other the tips and tricks on how to use the PowerPoint program and I'm all but bored out of my mind. I've seen a complete novice on Monday turn in a 25-slide project by Friday. It isn't hard at all.)
Helicopter Mom send me a somewhat apologetic email stating that she felt somewhat reassured that I was going to help her son learn PowerPoint but it still wasn't "fair". Whatever. And she'd try to stop by and observe. (Oh whoppee).
Her kid has almost finished his project by day three. He's doing great. He'll probably get an A. And I may be wrong, but I think he's glad that he's doing something on his own without that mother of his hovering over him.
Friday, November 10, 2006
Welcome to Our World, Part Two
We had a meeting this week with the newly hired Title I Aide for the 7th grade. She had called it to meet with us and to go over the list of the kids that she's going to be working with and getting our insights on them. This is the first year our school has qualified for Title I (for those of you outside the field of education, it's because over 50% of our students qualify for free and reduced lunch; in other words our poverty level is climbing) so this is a new experience for all of us.
I'm impressed with Miss Aide. She's bright, on the ball, enthusiastic, and seems to really want to make a difference. She, and the other aides, are having to create a program from the ground up which is no easy task. She's also working on her Master's in psychology which is pretty amazing if you ask me.
However.
She states that the goal is to work with these kids on math and reading because that's where the greatest need appears to be, so she'll be pulling these kids out of the science and social studies classes for more one on one work with her.
I lock eyes with Mr. Social Studies, and it's apparent we're thinking the same thing. It's the old "screw science and social studies, they don't really matter," mentality that we put up with every year. However, the problem is they do matter. Right now all the government cares about is reading and math, but next year science is going to be added to the list followed shortly by social studies.
I look at the rest of the team and they all have this expression of "Is she nuts?" on their face. It is silent in the room.
Finally, team leader Mrs. Math opens her mouth. "I don't think that's right that the kids get pulled out of science and social studies. They never have aides in their rooms and they always get the special ed kids. We all have inclusion classes with another teacher in the room so the kids get a lot of attention as it is. If the kids need help in math and reading why don't you take them out of math and reading?"
Miss Aide looks a bit taken aback. "Oh, well, that's fine if it's okay with you. We just thought that if they were having trouble in those areas, they probably shouldn't be pulled out of those classes."
Mrs. Math shakes her head, "Honestly, getting pulled out of my class wouldn't be an issue since we work on independent basis anyway. In fact, I'd prefer it." Ms. Reading and Mrs. Language agree. They'd rather have the kids pulled from their rooms than from science and social studies.
Miss Aide looks at Mr. Social Studies and then to me. "So what you're saying is that the kids really need to be in your rooms, and not getting pulled out, right?"
We agree emphatically.
Miss Aide smiles. "Works for me. I'll make sure that any pull outs don't affect science and social studies."
I found out later from Mr. Social Studies that he went to talk to Miss Aide to find out if she'll be doing work in the classrooms in addition to pull out. Apparently she will. Word is she'll be in each of our rooms 2 days a week.
Amazing.
I'm impressed with Miss Aide. She's bright, on the ball, enthusiastic, and seems to really want to make a difference. She, and the other aides, are having to create a program from the ground up which is no easy task. She's also working on her Master's in psychology which is pretty amazing if you ask me.
However.
She states that the goal is to work with these kids on math and reading because that's where the greatest need appears to be, so she'll be pulling these kids out of the science and social studies classes for more one on one work with her.
I lock eyes with Mr. Social Studies, and it's apparent we're thinking the same thing. It's the old "screw science and social studies, they don't really matter," mentality that we put up with every year. However, the problem is they do matter. Right now all the government cares about is reading and math, but next year science is going to be added to the list followed shortly by social studies.
I look at the rest of the team and they all have this expression of "Is she nuts?" on their face. It is silent in the room.
Finally, team leader Mrs. Math opens her mouth. "I don't think that's right that the kids get pulled out of science and social studies. They never have aides in their rooms and they always get the special ed kids. We all have inclusion classes with another teacher in the room so the kids get a lot of attention as it is. If the kids need help in math and reading why don't you take them out of math and reading?"
Miss Aide looks a bit taken aback. "Oh, well, that's fine if it's okay with you. We just thought that if they were having trouble in those areas, they probably shouldn't be pulled out of those classes."
Mrs. Math shakes her head, "Honestly, getting pulled out of my class wouldn't be an issue since we work on independent basis anyway. In fact, I'd prefer it." Ms. Reading and Mrs. Language agree. They'd rather have the kids pulled from their rooms than from science and social studies.
Miss Aide looks at Mr. Social Studies and then to me. "So what you're saying is that the kids really need to be in your rooms, and not getting pulled out, right?"
We agree emphatically.
Miss Aide smiles. "Works for me. I'll make sure that any pull outs don't affect science and social studies."
I found out later from Mr. Social Studies that he went to talk to Miss Aide to find out if she'll be doing work in the classrooms in addition to pull out. Apparently she will. Word is she'll be in each of our rooms 2 days a week.
Amazing.
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
Democracy in Action, or, Does Anyone Want Pizza?
Yesterday, being election day, I went to exercise my democratic right to vote. My state offers early voting, but I never could make it to early voting because I find it nearly impossible to get out of school before 5:00 pm which was when early voting closed for the day. (And who says teachers leave at 2:30? Morons.)
I got in line at 5:30 pm.
I cast my ballot at 9:15 pm.
Sigh.
However, I have not missed an election since I turned 18 and registered to vote and I certainly wasn't going to let 500 people get in my way. It actually turned out to be kind of amusing, really. When I got to the elementary school gym, which is my polling place, there were already about 500 people in lines snaking back and forth all through the gym. I had brought a sudoko puzzle book to work on but pretty soon it turned into more of a social event with everyone chatting about this that and the other, so I gave up on the puzzle. Someone went around offering cookies and coffee to those of us in line. People were discussing phoning out for pizza. Others were on cell phones talking to local reporters about the fact that there were only three - Three! - voting machines for a precinct that sees a new subdivision opening every month. Everytime someone finished voting, they'd throw up their hands and cheer and everyone would clap.
When I finished voting there were about 100 people still in line behind me. I heard that they finally finished around 11:00 pm.
I got in line at 5:30 pm.
I cast my ballot at 9:15 pm.
Sigh.
However, I have not missed an election since I turned 18 and registered to vote and I certainly wasn't going to let 500 people get in my way. It actually turned out to be kind of amusing, really. When I got to the elementary school gym, which is my polling place, there were already about 500 people in lines snaking back and forth all through the gym. I had brought a sudoko puzzle book to work on but pretty soon it turned into more of a social event with everyone chatting about this that and the other, so I gave up on the puzzle. Someone went around offering cookies and coffee to those of us in line. People were discussing phoning out for pizza. Others were on cell phones talking to local reporters about the fact that there were only three - Three! - voting machines for a precinct that sees a new subdivision opening every month. Everytime someone finished voting, they'd throw up their hands and cheer and everyone would clap.
When I finished voting there were about 100 people still in line behind me. I heard that they finally finished around 11:00 pm.
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