Maybe it's because I come from a corporate environment where I worked for 15 years before deciding to teach. Or maybe it's because I'm pretty obsessively organized. Or maybe it's because I have high standards for myself (and others). Regardless, I've come to the realization that it's not the kids who are going to drive me crazy in this job...it's the teachers.
So today one of my 6th graders, who just spent three days with me in ISS and was released yesterday, shows up at my door.
"Miss Skinny said I need to get my work for her," she mumbles.
"The work you did in ISS?" I ask her, because with these kids you never know. Homework? Late work? Work that has been stuck in the depths of a binder since fourth grade?
"Hum...I think so," she responds. I tell her to go back to class and tell Miss Skinny that all her work has been completed and sent back to her. And, in order for her to get back into The Building, I have to send one of my "trustworthy" (this is ISS after all) students with the swipe card to let her in. (I don't have an aide in there all the time.)
She shows up a few minutes later, and we repeat the same scenario. Miss Skinny wants the work that 6th grader did in ISS. I again tell the kid to go back to class, I will email Miss Skinny and let her know that the work has been completed and turned in. I again have to have a student leave with the swipe card to let the 6th grader back into the building.
At this point, I'm annoyed. I have kids in there that need my help doing math and social studies, and I'm having to answer the door - twice - for a kid, when all the teacher should have done was call or email.
So I pull the sixth grader's file, pull out the science assignment sheet, and see that she had simply wrote "do attached" on the assignment sheet. This is something they have been told specifically NOT to do because if the assignments are are not listed, the kids realize they can tear off and lose some of the "attached", because there is no way to account for it. When a teacher does this, either myself or my aide end up having to go through the assignments and itemize them on the sheet so we know what the kid is responsible for. Miss Skinny did not do this.
I write Miss Skinny an email explaining what she had written, listing what she had sent, and informing her, nicely (I really was nice...truly) that each item had been checked off and initialed and was all put in her mailbox yesterday afternoon.
Her response?
"Oh. I haven't checked my mailbox yet today."
You. Have. Got. To. Be. Freaking. Kidding. Me.
Wednesday, September 30, 2015
Saturday, September 26, 2015
Making a Grand Entrance
The other day I had a pretty full house of customers in our Happy Little Portable. We ranged from six to a grand total of 15, but seemed to hover pretty steady around ten. That's a lot of high maintenance kids in one place.
On Wednesday we had what was probably the most dramatic entrance yet to our Happy Little Portable. I was sitting at my desk, helping one of my kids with some assignment, when I could hear someone stomp up our ramp and then a key turn in my lock (my door is always locked). The door opened and standing there was Officer Awesome our SRO (Sheriff Reserve Officer) holding open the door for one of the maddest little seventh graders I'd ever laid eyes on.
Temper Boy had been with us before and for the most part is a halfway decent kid, but oh gosh, don't irritate him because he absolutely loses his mind and will pitch a fit and shut down. It's like flipping a switch. Apparently he'd been horrible for a substitute teacher, was escorted to The Principal's office, and she assigned him three days with me. He. Was. Not. Happy. The fact that he was actually escorted by Officer Awesome tells you something. Most kids get out to our Happy Little Portable on their own.
First off, he flung a handful of little teeny tiny pieces of paper into our trashcan by the door. I found out later that he had apparently torn his write-up into a bunch of little teeny tiny pieces and had scattered them from the building, along the sidewalk, and up the ramp to our Happy Little Portable. It was as if he'd left a trail of breadcrumbs along the trail so he could find his way back upon his escape.
Temper Boy then stomped to one of the empty cubicles and SLAMMED his backpack onto the floor.
I looked at Officer Awesome and he simply rolled his eyes at me. I rolled mine back.
At this point the dozen kids in there were Stone Cold Silent. Because this was truly the most dramatic entrance they'd ever seen. They all stopped working and all heads were turned to Temper Boy.
Temper Boy took his chair, which was on top of the desk in his cubicle, and SLAMMED it down on the floor, plopped into it and crossed his arms and glared at us.
I looked at Officer Awesome, who was still rolling his eyes at me and said, "I don't know about you, but I could do without the chair throwing." He nodded.
"I DID NOT THROW MY CHAIR!!!!" screamed Temper Boy.
"Yeah, whatever," I said. "You know the drill, empty out your backpack. If you have a cell phone turn it off and put it in the backpack so I can hang it in the closet."
"YOU ARE NOT TAKING MY BACKPACK!!!!" screamed Temper Boy.
"Fine. Knock yourself out," I said. "You are more then welcome to leave your backpack and all your belongings in the middle of the floor so anyone can reach in there and take what they want, rather than have it placed in a secure area. Your choice." I might add I was using a very calm voice and was speaking in a normal volume.
Temper Boy kicked his backpack and glared at no one in particular.
The other kids were still silent and staring at Temper Boy. Then all of a sudden one of the 8th graders said, almost under his breath but it was so quiet that we could all hear him, "Jeez, it's not THAT bad in here,"
I almost died. I wanted to laugh so badly that it was all I could do to tell the kids the show was over and get back to work.. Which they did because, quite honestly, they were a little bit afraid of Temper boy. They ignored him. I ignored him. He sat there glaring for twenty minutes until our timer went off for our restroom break where we headed into The Building. The other kids lined up at the door, waiting to go out. Temper Boy did not move.
I went over to him and laid it out in pretty simple terms. "Look these kids have been waiting for about an hour and a half to go to the bathroom, walk around a bit and get a drink. If you refuse to go, I have to stay in here with you and that means they don't get to go because there's no grown up to keep an eye on them. And they will all HATE you forever."
That did it. With a huge, dramatic sigh, he decided to join the line and head on in. And down the ramp we went, walking through the fluttering pieces of his write up blowing across the ramp and sidewalk.
And Just What the Heck is ISS Anyway?
I'm really grateful for the following comment from Lisa in Germany (Oh my gosh!)
"Dear Mrs Bluebird,
maybe this is only interesting to me because I'm not from the US, but how does your ISS system work? Who sends students for what and for how long and what do they have to do to go back? Is there a protocol for repeating offenders?"
"Dear Mrs Bluebird,
maybe this is only interesting to me because I'm not from the US, but how does your ISS system work? Who sends students for what and for how long and what do they have to do to go back? Is there a protocol for repeating offenders?"
Suffice it to say, how ISS works in my building may not be the same as any other building in my district, my state or even within the entire United States...so it's just one example. But I'l try to explain our system at The School.
About 5-6 years ago, we partnered with Vanderbilt University and devised something called School Wide Positive Behavior Support (SWPBS) which is a system that encourages kids to do the right thing. We had a lot of kids out of class because they were being suspended, and a lot of disruptive kids who made it nearly impossible to teach. We have a pretty challenging population. In any case, we pitched our old system of discipline referrals and implemented SWPBS. The cool thing was that it was developed specifically for our building and our population so it's tailor made. And it has really worked.
Kids start every nine week grading period with a clean slate. We have a behavior matrix that tells kids how to be Respectful, Responsible, and Engaged in all the areas of school - the bus, the hallway, the cafeteria, the gym, and especially in the classroom. Every year we teach the system to the kids, and we review it again every January. Kids who do the right thing get rewarded with a school currency which they can use in the school store, or put into a drawing for a price. (We've given away donated tickets to paintball as well as an NFL game so far this year). They also get a reward party at the end of the grading period.
As for the kids who don't behave. The teacher can issue a Classroom Intervention Referral for behaviors that are unacceptable. This also involves contact with a parent (that can be the challenging part since we get so many disconnected or bad phone numbers.) A copy of the CIR goes to Guidance, is input into a database system and every evening we get a report on how many CIR's a kid has earned in this grading period. If a kid does something and it will be his/her fourth CIR, that gets bumped up to Administrative Discipline Referral. And that means it goes to an Administrator. The Administrator calls the kid in for a session and they have the option (within guidelines from the School Board and District Code of Conduct) to hand out the consequences. It can be a counseling and warning session, a day or two of after school detention, or In School Suspension (which is me), or even suspension. Parent contact occurs in all these situations. (Or attempted parent contact. See my comment about bad phone numbers above.)
If a kid ends up in ISS with me, the stay can be anywhere from one to four days (or longer, we've just haven't had anyone past four days this year.) Most kids seem to land in my room for 2-3 days. ISS is, for some of them, the best study hall they'll ever have because it gives them a chance to get caught up on work (most kids in ISS also have academic issues) in a quiet place with help (from me or my aide). In order to get released they need to complete all their assignments and behave. It's actually pretty simple.
I have had my share of repeat offenders and some of them are about to find themselves in something we call BSA, or Behavior Support Academy. Coach Math handles this unit and whereas I'm sort of the School Momma type, he's the stern, disapproving School Dad type. It's a totally different experience. It's our version of alternative school; the kids wear a uniform of white shirt and tan pants, are isolated from the student population, do chores and cleanup around school (weed the flower beds, sweep the cafeteria, package and distribute donations for our food program, and more). They also get a counseling session every afternoon after lunch. (My kids eat lunch with this group and also get in on the counseling if the numbers aren't too big - the idea is to stop the behaviors that get them in ISS and BSA.) Kids are assigned to BSA for a 30 day period of time. Once they complete that time, they do an exit session, and then are released back to their regular classes under a 25 point contract. If they screw up and earn 25 discipline points, the next step is Alternative School run by the district downtown.
So that's where it stands at The School.
Kids start every nine week grading period with a clean slate. We have a behavior matrix that tells kids how to be Respectful, Responsible, and Engaged in all the areas of school - the bus, the hallway, the cafeteria, the gym, and especially in the classroom. Every year we teach the system to the kids, and we review it again every January. Kids who do the right thing get rewarded with a school currency which they can use in the school store, or put into a drawing for a price. (We've given away donated tickets to paintball as well as an NFL game so far this year). They also get a reward party at the end of the grading period.
As for the kids who don't behave. The teacher can issue a Classroom Intervention Referral for behaviors that are unacceptable. This also involves contact with a parent (that can be the challenging part since we get so many disconnected or bad phone numbers.) A copy of the CIR goes to Guidance, is input into a database system and every evening we get a report on how many CIR's a kid has earned in this grading period. If a kid does something and it will be his/her fourth CIR, that gets bumped up to Administrative Discipline Referral. And that means it goes to an Administrator. The Administrator calls the kid in for a session and they have the option (within guidelines from the School Board and District Code of Conduct) to hand out the consequences. It can be a counseling and warning session, a day or two of after school detention, or In School Suspension (which is me), or even suspension. Parent contact occurs in all these situations. (Or attempted parent contact. See my comment about bad phone numbers above.)
If a kid ends up in ISS with me, the stay can be anywhere from one to four days (or longer, we've just haven't had anyone past four days this year.) Most kids seem to land in my room for 2-3 days. ISS is, for some of them, the best study hall they'll ever have because it gives them a chance to get caught up on work (most kids in ISS also have academic issues) in a quiet place with help (from me or my aide). In order to get released they need to complete all their assignments and behave. It's actually pretty simple.
I have had my share of repeat offenders and some of them are about to find themselves in something we call BSA, or Behavior Support Academy. Coach Math handles this unit and whereas I'm sort of the School Momma type, he's the stern, disapproving School Dad type. It's a totally different experience. It's our version of alternative school; the kids wear a uniform of white shirt and tan pants, are isolated from the student population, do chores and cleanup around school (weed the flower beds, sweep the cafeteria, package and distribute donations for our food program, and more). They also get a counseling session every afternoon after lunch. (My kids eat lunch with this group and also get in on the counseling if the numbers aren't too big - the idea is to stop the behaviors that get them in ISS and BSA.) Kids are assigned to BSA for a 30 day period of time. Once they complete that time, they do an exit session, and then are released back to their regular classes under a 25 point contract. If they screw up and earn 25 discipline points, the next step is Alternative School run by the district downtown.
So that's where it stands at The School.
Saturday, September 12, 2015
How We Do Things
So one of you asked for pictures of my room and what my schedule is. I'm going to pass on pictures because Our Portable is due to be painted sometime in October when a local church group shows up (I used a Go Fund Me project to get money for the paint). I'll post pictures when it's all done. But basically it's an old portable. I've been at The School for 14 years and it's been there as long as I have been.
As for our schedule. Here is what a typical day looks like.
I usually go into the building and pick up any work in the ISS basket up in the front office at 6:45 because buses start unloading at 6:55 (yes, really). Kids get off the bus, swing by and pick up their breakfast if they want it, and then come out to Our Portable. They empty their backpacks (I label them and hang them in a closet), eat their breakfast and read or work on class work. After announcements and the Pledge of Allegiance at 7:20, we basically work on work that has been sent out by their teachers.
Often in the morning is when I am getting new kids processed in, or logging in assignments so it can be a bit busy. Our first break is at 8:45 when we go into the building to the 8th grade hallway and use the restrooms and water fountains. If I have a low number of kids, we'll walk to the front office and see if there's any more work in the basket, and then head out (I like to get the kids walking as it gives them, and me, a break). I sometimes swing by the library and have them check out a book. After that, back to Our Portable.
My aide usually arrives at 9:30 am and this is technically when I have planning. Basically that means I head back into the building, check the basket, check my mail, and do any printing and copying I may need to do. I also have an 8th grade student aide who comes in and uses ISS as a study hall but also runs errands if needed.
Our second bathroom break is at 10:45. At 11:30 another aide shows up and takes my kids and the in-house alternative school kids (we call that BSA for Behavior Support Academy) and I have lunch from 11:30 to noon. I usually go back in the building for my lunch (I pack) and eat with a few other related arts teachers, check the box, check my mail, etc. After lunch the kids usually go and have an hour counseling session with one of the guidance counselors (about good decisions, bad decisions, choices, etc.) I'm not with them at this time but back in Our Portable doing paperwork. Mainly checking to see if kids who are scheduled to be released have all their assignments completed to my satisfaction and perhaps getting paperwork on new kids who will be showing up the following day.
The kids usually get back around 1:00, my aide returns from her lunch duty, and we have another bathroom break at 1:30. By 1:50, we start releasing kids who will be leaving us and they head back into the building to their homerooms. The ones who are remaining continue to work, or we may have a One Minute Math drill or play with math flashcards (I'm all about improving their multiplication skills because they are dreadful). By 2:00 we start handing out backpacks and packing up for the day, clean the room, and listen to announcements. Bus riders are usually dismissed around 2:10, walkers and parent pick up walk with me to the front office for release around 2:30.
And that's it!
As for our schedule. Here is what a typical day looks like.
I usually go into the building and pick up any work in the ISS basket up in the front office at 6:45 because buses start unloading at 6:55 (yes, really). Kids get off the bus, swing by and pick up their breakfast if they want it, and then come out to Our Portable. They empty their backpacks (I label them and hang them in a closet), eat their breakfast and read or work on class work. After announcements and the Pledge of Allegiance at 7:20, we basically work on work that has been sent out by their teachers.
Often in the morning is when I am getting new kids processed in, or logging in assignments so it can be a bit busy. Our first break is at 8:45 when we go into the building to the 8th grade hallway and use the restrooms and water fountains. If I have a low number of kids, we'll walk to the front office and see if there's any more work in the basket, and then head out (I like to get the kids walking as it gives them, and me, a break). I sometimes swing by the library and have them check out a book. After that, back to Our Portable.
My aide usually arrives at 9:30 am and this is technically when I have planning. Basically that means I head back into the building, check the basket, check my mail, and do any printing and copying I may need to do. I also have an 8th grade student aide who comes in and uses ISS as a study hall but also runs errands if needed.
Our second bathroom break is at 10:45. At 11:30 another aide shows up and takes my kids and the in-house alternative school kids (we call that BSA for Behavior Support Academy) and I have lunch from 11:30 to noon. I usually go back in the building for my lunch (I pack) and eat with a few other related arts teachers, check the box, check my mail, etc. After lunch the kids usually go and have an hour counseling session with one of the guidance counselors (about good decisions, bad decisions, choices, etc.) I'm not with them at this time but back in Our Portable doing paperwork. Mainly checking to see if kids who are scheduled to be released have all their assignments completed to my satisfaction and perhaps getting paperwork on new kids who will be showing up the following day.
The kids usually get back around 1:00, my aide returns from her lunch duty, and we have another bathroom break at 1:30. By 1:50, we start releasing kids who will be leaving us and they head back into the building to their homerooms. The ones who are remaining continue to work, or we may have a One Minute Math drill or play with math flashcards (I'm all about improving their multiplication skills because they are dreadful). By 2:00 we start handing out backpacks and packing up for the day, clean the room, and listen to announcements. Bus riders are usually dismissed around 2:10, walkers and parent pick up walk with me to the front office for release around 2:30.
And that's it!
Wednesday, September 02, 2015
Maintenance, We Have a Problem, Part Two
In case you didn't read about it, I have a wasp problem around my portable.
My portable, which has been there since I first showed up at The School 14 years ago and I suspect was there long before then, has a wooden ramp that takes you up to the front door. We do have a back door, with steps, but it's pretty much for emergencies only.
And under my nice wooden ramp you will find wasp nests. So, every single time you walk on the ramp, the vibrations aggravate the wasps who then fly up to mess with whomever is walking up to my room.
This is not good.
I put in formal work requests beginning in late July, and another a few weeks ago, and then another last week.
Nothing much happened. Occasionally a custodian would come out, spray at a wasp or two, and that was it. It really didn't do much except aggravate the wasps even more. It was only a matter of time before someone, hopefully not me, got stung.
Well that happened yesterday. I had two girls get stung walking up the ramp. One got stung twice. And of course, what ensues was near hysteria on the part of my kids. (Yesterday was busy, we had eight customers.) They absolutely refused to walk down that ramp. No way, no how. They were not going near any stinging insect.
Part of me doesn't blame them. The other part of me, however, is constantly amazed at how freaked out kids, especially some of these boys, are over bugs. Honestly, the squealing, squirming and hysterical flapping does not help, but they can't seem to get over that. I'd hate to take most of these kids on a camping trip. Proof, once again, that kids don't spend enough time outside, dealing with nature.
But I digress.
In any case, Coach Cool, who is the guy who does most of the discipline issues (and is a good friend from way back) was walking down the hall when I brought the kids in for a restroom break (after much hysterics about walking down the ramp.) I basically unloaded on him about the stings and trips to the nurse, and how it needed to be taken care of NOW before someone with allergies got bit.
Five minutes later, the Lead Custodian is out there SATURATING the ramp with spray and informing me that yes, he'd crawled under the ramp and spotted the nests (FINALLY!) and he informed the Central Office Bug Get Rid of Guy (we have a guy who does nothing but kill bugs throughout the district...really) that he needed to get out here NOW and get rid of these wasps.
So today...was better. Only a few. Not near the cloud of wasps we used to get. But we'll see. I want to make sure none of them show up.
My portable, which has been there since I first showed up at The School 14 years ago and I suspect was there long before then, has a wooden ramp that takes you up to the front door. We do have a back door, with steps, but it's pretty much for emergencies only.
And under my nice wooden ramp you will find wasp nests. So, every single time you walk on the ramp, the vibrations aggravate the wasps who then fly up to mess with whomever is walking up to my room.
This is not good.
I put in formal work requests beginning in late July, and another a few weeks ago, and then another last week.
Nothing much happened. Occasionally a custodian would come out, spray at a wasp or two, and that was it. It really didn't do much except aggravate the wasps even more. It was only a matter of time before someone, hopefully not me, got stung.
Well that happened yesterday. I had two girls get stung walking up the ramp. One got stung twice. And of course, what ensues was near hysteria on the part of my kids. (Yesterday was busy, we had eight customers.) They absolutely refused to walk down that ramp. No way, no how. They were not going near any stinging insect.
Part of me doesn't blame them. The other part of me, however, is constantly amazed at how freaked out kids, especially some of these boys, are over bugs. Honestly, the squealing, squirming and hysterical flapping does not help, but they can't seem to get over that. I'd hate to take most of these kids on a camping trip. Proof, once again, that kids don't spend enough time outside, dealing with nature.
But I digress.
In any case, Coach Cool, who is the guy who does most of the discipline issues (and is a good friend from way back) was walking down the hall when I brought the kids in for a restroom break (after much hysterics about walking down the ramp.) I basically unloaded on him about the stings and trips to the nurse, and how it needed to be taken care of NOW before someone with allergies got bit.
Five minutes later, the Lead Custodian is out there SATURATING the ramp with spray and informing me that yes, he'd crawled under the ramp and spotted the nests (FINALLY!) and he informed the Central Office Bug Get Rid of Guy (we have a guy who does nothing but kill bugs throughout the district...really) that he needed to get out here NOW and get rid of these wasps.
So today...was better. Only a few. Not near the cloud of wasps we used to get. But we'll see. I want to make sure none of them show up.
Wednesday, August 26, 2015
My Fashion Sense
My mom has great fashion sense. She always looks so put together, so well done, so perfect. I did not inherit this ability. I pretty much stick to basics (I swear my wardrobe is so black, navy and white it's ridiculous). And honestly, if I could, I'd wear jeans or capris and sweatshirts forever.
So when I'm walking through the building today, in khakis, tennis shoes, and a pinkish-red top (really a glorified t-shirt with a lace neckline) and a teeny tiny (and I mean really little) sixth grader I have never seen before stops and says, "I really like that color on you," I was a little stunned.
"Oh really? Thank you," I said.
"You have fantastic fashion sense," she says, as she turns a corner.
I about died laughing. That was the last thing I ever expected to hear from a kid, especially a tiny little one who looks like her fashion sense might be from the movie Frozen.
Cracked me up.
So when I'm walking through the building today, in khakis, tennis shoes, and a pinkish-red top (really a glorified t-shirt with a lace neckline) and a teeny tiny (and I mean really little) sixth grader I have never seen before stops and says, "I really like that color on you," I was a little stunned.
"Oh really? Thank you," I said.
"You have fantastic fashion sense," she says, as she turns a corner.
I about died laughing. That was the last thing I ever expected to hear from a kid, especially a tiny little one who looks like her fashion sense might be from the movie Frozen.
Cracked me up.
There Won't Be Any Kids, They Said. It Will be Quiet, They Said
Before school started I was trying to get my ducks in a row and get my ISS room organized, my procedures down, schedules created, and so on. And when I asked the Enforcer to go over my proposed student schedule his comment was, "Yeah, I'll get to it. You won't have any kids for a couple of weeks anyway."
Yeah. Right.
Since Day One, when our little Dress Code Violator showed up...it's been steady. Granted, there are days there's only one kid in there, but now we're up to three and it's just going to keep growing from here.
So that schedule I wanted approved? I just went with it and did what I wanted. So far no one has complained so I'm going with it.
The Principal said, "take it and make it yours," so that's what I'm doing.
So there. If they don't like it, oh well.
Oh and Dress Code Violator? She's baaaaccckkk....
Friday, August 14, 2015
And Visitor Number One Is....
A seventh grade girl who didn't believe in dress codes. Or more to the point, it was her birthday, dammit, and she wanted to wear what she wanted to wear. Even though what she wore might have gotten her arrested if she was walking a street in the wrong part of town.
It was that bad.
And it was two hours into the first full day of school. So much for not getting anyone for at least a week.
Not a good impression to make on your teachers, kiddo.
It was that bad.
And it was two hours into the first full day of school. So much for not getting anyone for at least a week.
Not a good impression to make on your teachers, kiddo.
Thursday, August 13, 2015
Maintenance, We Have a Problem
The first half day of school has come and gone and so far...it's been calm. Really calm. The kind of calm where you keep waiting for something to happen because it's just going so damn well. All the kids had schedules, most of the kids knew their bus numbers although it took them some time to find them, and no one had a melt-down. It was scary.
Seeing as I didn't have any students - yet - in my little world of ISS, I helped out in Guidance. I was supposed to be there to help print schedules, look up bus numbers, and that sort of thing. However, after about two hours of nothing, because no one needed my help, I wandered back out to my portable to work on stuff out there. (I actually am working although I have no students right now, basically going through all the procedures for how ISS runs and streamlining the process.)
And then I found a really glaring problem with my portable.
I have a wasp problem.
A few weeks ago Baseball Boy was working in my room, helping me get it organized and unpacked. His little brother was at the Sixth Grade Jump Start and Mom brought Baseball Boy along so he could help me out. Thank goodness, because he saved me about four hours of labor. We listened to the Cubs baseball game and worked and had a great time.
Until we discovered a wasp flying around.
Seriously, I'm not afraid of them, and neither is Baseball Boy, but it was a bit annoying until we managed to smack him with a rolled up magazine. And then I didn't really think much of it until school started. And then I realized that I was seeing wasps every single time I was walking up the ramp to my portable.
Every single time. And often more than one.
This was not good.
So I did a work order for maintenance to come out and spray/check for wasps. I think they're living under the wooden ramp, because that seems to be where I see them the most.
Until they fly into the portable.
I really, really don't need a kid out there who's already on edge because he/she has been assigned to In School Suspension to have a major freak out meltdown when wasps start buzzing around.
They better come fix this problem fast. In the meantime, I bought a fly swatter.
Bzzzzzzz
Monday, August 03, 2015
Take Me Out to the Ballgame
Last year I had a student, Baseball Boy, who one day, in the middle of class and out of the blue asked me, "Mrs. Bluebird, do you like paintball?"
And oddly enough, one of my Chosens is an obsessive paintball player so I do know quite a lot about the sport - I even have my own mask and I've played a tiny bit. So my answer was, "Well, yeah, I do."
And that was it. I was suddenly the Best Teacher in The World, and then when Baseball Boy discovered that I am also a huge Chicago Cubs fan, I became "Aunt Bluebird". In fact, he told all the other kids that I was really his aunt (and they believed him). Over the course of the school year, I got to know Baseball Boy's parents and entire family pretty well. I got invited to his little brother's birthday party at the paintball field, I ended up watching three of the kids while mom and dad took the other one on a "date" one evening, and I spent a lot of my summer watching Baseball Boy play ball. So, I guess I really did become Aunt Bluebird in some respects.
Baseball Boy's parents, every year, allow each of their four kids to have an adventure with just mom and dad. They're really good about making sure each of their four kids gets individual attention and time, and they're lucky that they have both sets of grandparents close by to watch the other kids when they do this. Baseball Boy wanted to see the Chicago Cubs play ball, and they ended up buying a family four-pack of tickets (which was quite a deal) and told him he could invite a friend to go with them to Atlanta where the Cubs were playing the Braves
I was the friend he invited.
So bright and early one Sunday morning the four of us left for the five hour drive to Atlanta, of which Baseball Boy did not stop talking except for one half hour nap. We checked into our hotel, got to the stadium and had the best time. It was so much fun seeing Baseball Boy witness his first Major League Baseball Game (and the Cubs won which was even better). We stayed overnight, ate at a really cool diner on the way home, stopped at Cabella's, and got home Monday afternoon. It was a great road trip and the four of us had the most wonderful time.
Now, I asked Baseball Boy about what he was going to tell his friends. I mean, really? You take your old teacher on a road trip to see the Cubs? And his response was priceless. He shrugged. "I really don't care what they think."
Bless this kid. As I told his Mom, it's really nice to have someone else to talk baseball with (Mr. Bluebird is not a fan). My dad was a huge Cubs fan and I grew up going to California Angels games when we lived out there. So, I've missed that since Daddy passed away. Honestly, baseball is more fun when you can share it with someone.
And when you get to share a kid's first Major League Baseball game? Well, that's a memory that's priceless.
And oddly enough, one of my Chosens is an obsessive paintball player so I do know quite a lot about the sport - I even have my own mask and I've played a tiny bit. So my answer was, "Well, yeah, I do."
And that was it. I was suddenly the Best Teacher in The World, and then when Baseball Boy discovered that I am also a huge Chicago Cubs fan, I became "Aunt Bluebird". In fact, he told all the other kids that I was really his aunt (and they believed him). Over the course of the school year, I got to know Baseball Boy's parents and entire family pretty well. I got invited to his little brother's birthday party at the paintball field, I ended up watching three of the kids while mom and dad took the other one on a "date" one evening, and I spent a lot of my summer watching Baseball Boy play ball. So, I guess I really did become Aunt Bluebird in some respects.
Baseball Boy's parents, every year, allow each of their four kids to have an adventure with just mom and dad. They're really good about making sure each of their four kids gets individual attention and time, and they're lucky that they have both sets of grandparents close by to watch the other kids when they do this. Baseball Boy wanted to see the Chicago Cubs play ball, and they ended up buying a family four-pack of tickets (which was quite a deal) and told him he could invite a friend to go with them to Atlanta where the Cubs were playing the Braves
I was the friend he invited.
So bright and early one Sunday morning the four of us left for the five hour drive to Atlanta, of which Baseball Boy did not stop talking except for one half hour nap. We checked into our hotel, got to the stadium and had the best time. It was so much fun seeing Baseball Boy witness his first Major League Baseball Game (and the Cubs won which was even better). We stayed overnight, ate at a really cool diner on the way home, stopped at Cabella's, and got home Monday afternoon. It was a great road trip and the four of us had the most wonderful time.
Now, I asked Baseball Boy about what he was going to tell his friends. I mean, really? You take your old teacher on a road trip to see the Cubs? And his response was priceless. He shrugged. "I really don't care what they think."
Bless this kid. As I told his Mom, it's really nice to have someone else to talk baseball with (Mr. Bluebird is not a fan). My dad was a huge Cubs fan and I grew up going to California Angels games when we lived out there. So, I've missed that since Daddy passed away. Honestly, baseball is more fun when you can share it with someone.
And when you get to share a kid's first Major League Baseball game? Well, that's a memory that's priceless.
Saturday, August 01, 2015
On Losing One You Love
Every time about this year, as we get back into our classrooms and start getting ready for the new school year, people start asking me, "Well, how was your summer?"
And usually I don't have a problem answering.
This year, however, I'm a bit stumped. It was, for the most part, a pretty good summer. I only had about five days of in-service training since I'm no longer teaching science, so I had a lot more free time than I've had since STEM was implemented a number of years ago. I got to spend a lot of time with my hubby, which is always good. Mrs. Eagle and I did some quick day trips and had some fun doing girl stuff. And I got to spend quite a bit of time with some of my grown up former students who consider Hubs and I to be family. So that was all good.
However. One Really Bad Horrible Thing happened this summer and I am still reeling from it.
My Red Headed Fireball passed away in late June and it has truly broken my heart. He called me Momma, and we both cried when he moved away to another Southern State in February. His Uncle was being deployed, his Aunt had just had a baby, and she wanted to be by family. Fireball was going to be coming back here for high school and was looking forward to it. I gave him my number and told him if he needed anything to contact me and I'd see what I could do. He never called, so I assumed all was well.
And then, in June, he apparently took his own life.
We go through state-mandated suicide training every single year, but in the 13 years I've been teaching both of my students who committed suicide did it during the summer. It's like they know we aren't around to stop them. And I've wondered if there was anything any of us could have done. There's that little thread of guilt that makes me wonder if I did enough to help him. Did he know how much he was loved?
It wasn't until a number of us from The School attended a balloon release in his memory that I had a little bit of closure. The parent organizing it, whom I did not know, asked if I was in attendance. I answered and then he said that he'd spent a lot of time with the family during the past week and my name came up. A lot. Apparently Fireball talked a lot about me, and how much I helped him and loved him, and he shared a lot of stories about some of the silly things we'd done in class with his family.
That made me feel better. At least he knew I loved him. And that was something.
So this past week, when I was unpacking my boxes to set up my new classroom, I found a letter he wrote and left on my desk last year. It was so touching that I had it framed and it sat on a bookshelf behind my desk the remainder of the year. I never thought how much more I would value that letter today, now that he is gone. It is on my desk. It will be staying there.
Bless you Fireball. You have no idea how much I miss you.
Thursday, June 04, 2015
On Doing What I Do Best
One of the things I have truly missed the past few years is the ability to work with and mentor kids on a more individual basis. I had that chance in the past when testing and data wasn't the focus like it is today. And damn, I was freaking good at it.
Case in point...Mr. Bluebird and I don't have biological children. Never happened for us. But the groups of kids I taught nine and ten years ago were amazing. And in that group were some really fantastic kids. Long time readers may remember Stoopid Boy, Skater Squirt and the Nursing Student, who I mentioned last year. Two other kids round out that bunch, Paintball Warrior and Farmer Jim. (I didn't teach Paintball Warrior, but he was roommates with Stoopid Boy and Skater Squirt and was one of Mrs. Eagle's kids. Stoopid Boy introduced us and the next thing I knew, he was part of my clan.) These five kids, The Chosens, are my children. They call, they text, they visit, they come over for Thanksgiving breakfast, they celebrate birthdays, they call with girlfriend issues, job issues, just issues, we talk, we laugh, we go to church, we sometimes even cry. Hubby and I may not be real Mom and Dad, but we're pretty close. We love, love, love these young adults.
And it kind of bothered me that I haven't had the chance to really connect with kids on this kind of level since then, with a few exceptions. A number of us have talked about this lack of connection and for many of us, it's an unfortunate side effect of the pressure we are on to produce test scores and to show continual growth and to test, test, test. Dang, we're producing some real great test-takers, but at what cost?
So a few weeks ago, The Principal asked me if I would be willing to leave 7th grade science and to take over the In School Suspension position because Mrs. Angel was, finally, retiring. As The Principal put it, "I want you to use your tough love, school momma charm on these kids." She also mentioned the fact that since I make such strong connections to kids, "to the point that they are at your house having dinner ten years later", that I would be perfect for the job.
I thought about ten seconds and said YES!
Now for some people, the thought of being in charge of In School Suspension sounds like you get to spend all day with the "bad" kids. But truth be told, most of the time, these are the kids I do best with. These are kids who maybe had a lot of tardies, maybe talked back, had a cell phone out, and so forth. They've made some stupid choices and need a soft, but stern, place to land to get back on their feet and stay out of trouble. They need someone to spend some one-on-one time with them to get their heads screwed back on straight.
And honestly, these are my people. I will be spending the next year, doing what I do best...working with kids.
I am, for the first time in a long time, looking forward to next year.
Case in point...Mr. Bluebird and I don't have biological children. Never happened for us. But the groups of kids I taught nine and ten years ago were amazing. And in that group were some really fantastic kids. Long time readers may remember Stoopid Boy, Skater Squirt and the Nursing Student, who I mentioned last year. Two other kids round out that bunch, Paintball Warrior and Farmer Jim. (I didn't teach Paintball Warrior, but he was roommates with Stoopid Boy and Skater Squirt and was one of Mrs. Eagle's kids. Stoopid Boy introduced us and the next thing I knew, he was part of my clan.) These five kids, The Chosens, are my children. They call, they text, they visit, they come over for Thanksgiving breakfast, they celebrate birthdays, they call with girlfriend issues, job issues, just issues, we talk, we laugh, we go to church, we sometimes even cry. Hubby and I may not be real Mom and Dad, but we're pretty close. We love, love, love these young adults.
And it kind of bothered me that I haven't had the chance to really connect with kids on this kind of level since then, with a few exceptions. A number of us have talked about this lack of connection and for many of us, it's an unfortunate side effect of the pressure we are on to produce test scores and to show continual growth and to test, test, test. Dang, we're producing some real great test-takers, but at what cost?
So a few weeks ago, The Principal asked me if I would be willing to leave 7th grade science and to take over the In School Suspension position because Mrs. Angel was, finally, retiring. As The Principal put it, "I want you to use your tough love, school momma charm on these kids." She also mentioned the fact that since I make such strong connections to kids, "to the point that they are at your house having dinner ten years later", that I would be perfect for the job.
I thought about ten seconds and said YES!
Now for some people, the thought of being in charge of In School Suspension sounds like you get to spend all day with the "bad" kids. But truth be told, most of the time, these are the kids I do best with. These are kids who maybe had a lot of tardies, maybe talked back, had a cell phone out, and so forth. They've made some stupid choices and need a soft, but stern, place to land to get back on their feet and stay out of trouble. They need someone to spend some one-on-one time with them to get their heads screwed back on straight.
And honestly, these are my people. I will be spending the next year, doing what I do best...working with kids.
I am, for the first time in a long time, looking forward to next year.
Sunday, May 31, 2015
Musings on Change, Purposes, and Why We Do It
So this wasn't a really good year for me, so I've been quiet. For all two of you that read this, thanks for understanding. I'm just not really happy with how education has changed in the past 13 years I've been teaching, and hit critical mass in January. Then, for the first time, I really, seriously thought that if I could find a way to quit, or retire early, I would.
And it had nothing to do with the kids (who were a handful).
It had everything to do with The System.
I did not, DID NOT, get into this profession to teach kids to take a test. I don't talk much about my faith on here, but I was called to be a teacher. I was working in the corporate environment and went back to school (at 38) to teach because it was what I was called, or meant to do. It wasn't for the money, it wasn't for the summers off (insert laughter here because we all know that's a lie), it wasn't for any other reason than to help kids, love on kids, make a difference in their lives.
And every year The System has made it harder and harder to do what I know is best for my kids.
We went from a one paragraph hand written lesson plan to a daily two-page typed lesson plan that was more of a script than a plan. We were told to have our lessons done so that a sub could step right in and take over in case we weren't at school. Many of us at The School shook our heads and realized right then and there that we weren't teachers, we were script-readers.
Our District, and The School, are obsessed with data. Everything is tied to data. And we had meetings after meeting after meeting to discuss testing data, behavior data, data, data, data. We were ranked, as teachers, based on how our kids did on Benchmark tests. (And this, after we were assured 8 years ago when Benchmarks came in that they "would never be used to rank or evaluate teachers".) What those rankings tell us is that kids in high poverty buildings (like mine) don't do as well as kids in low poverty buildings (like the teachers at the top of the list). But we can't say that. Because The Administration considers that an excuse. Even though professional statisticians will tell you that standardized testing is basically a measurement of poverty. And we were told to differentiate all the time, but then were told to give each kid the same test. Add in directives from above that are even more conflicting, and all you have is disillusion and confusion.
And I think this is insane.
And I missed working with kids, getting to know kids, because all we do is test, test, test, and analyze analyze and analyze and we've lost track of the fact that these are kids, not test scores.
So I was burned out, annoyed, unhappy and desperate to find a way out of a system I hate. Not to mention that I was putting in 12-14 hour days, weekends, and my life was nothing but grading, lessons and grading and lessons. But I have 13 years in, and I can't afford to walk away just yet.
And since my dad died two and a half years ago, my priorities have changed. Spending time with people I love is more important than any job. That's it. I'm really not willing to give up that time anymore. When one of my "kids" wants me to come watch him play paintball, or baseball, I want to say yes, and not worry that I have 100 quizzes to grade. And when my husband wants to watch a movie and snuggle, I want to be able to do that and not worry about the plans that needed to be made.
And then I got offered the most incredible position at The School.
But I have to run, so I'll fill ya'll in later. Time to spend with my big kids.
And it had nothing to do with the kids (who were a handful).
It had everything to do with The System.
I did not, DID NOT, get into this profession to teach kids to take a test. I don't talk much about my faith on here, but I was called to be a teacher. I was working in the corporate environment and went back to school (at 38) to teach because it was what I was called, or meant to do. It wasn't for the money, it wasn't for the summers off (insert laughter here because we all know that's a lie), it wasn't for any other reason than to help kids, love on kids, make a difference in their lives.
And every year The System has made it harder and harder to do what I know is best for my kids.
We went from a one paragraph hand written lesson plan to a daily two-page typed lesson plan that was more of a script than a plan. We were told to have our lessons done so that a sub could step right in and take over in case we weren't at school. Many of us at The School shook our heads and realized right then and there that we weren't teachers, we were script-readers.
Our District, and The School, are obsessed with data. Everything is tied to data. And we had meetings after meeting after meeting to discuss testing data, behavior data, data, data, data. We were ranked, as teachers, based on how our kids did on Benchmark tests. (And this, after we were assured 8 years ago when Benchmarks came in that they "would never be used to rank or evaluate teachers".) What those rankings tell us is that kids in high poverty buildings (like mine) don't do as well as kids in low poverty buildings (like the teachers at the top of the list). But we can't say that. Because The Administration considers that an excuse. Even though professional statisticians will tell you that standardized testing is basically a measurement of poverty. And we were told to differentiate all the time, but then were told to give each kid the same test. Add in directives from above that are even more conflicting, and all you have is disillusion and confusion.
And I think this is insane.
And I missed working with kids, getting to know kids, because all we do is test, test, test, and analyze analyze and analyze and we've lost track of the fact that these are kids, not test scores.
So I was burned out, annoyed, unhappy and desperate to find a way out of a system I hate. Not to mention that I was putting in 12-14 hour days, weekends, and my life was nothing but grading, lessons and grading and lessons. But I have 13 years in, and I can't afford to walk away just yet.
And since my dad died two and a half years ago, my priorities have changed. Spending time with people I love is more important than any job. That's it. I'm really not willing to give up that time anymore. When one of my "kids" wants me to come watch him play paintball, or baseball, I want to say yes, and not worry that I have 100 quizzes to grade. And when my husband wants to watch a movie and snuggle, I want to be able to do that and not worry about the plans that needed to be made.
And then I got offered the most incredible position at The School.
But I have to run, so I'll fill ya'll in later. Time to spend with my big kids.
Sunday, November 16, 2014
To Snow or Not to Snow
For as long as I've been at The District, we have had a total of 3 inclement weather days. What's amusing about this is that every single district around us geographically have anywhere from 5-10 inclement weather days. It's a little disingenuous to think that we live in a pocket where it doesn't snow, flood, ice or generally get stupid weather-wise, but that's the way it goes. Whenever The Powers In Charge are asked about it, we get some mumbo jumbo about how the teachers voted on it, it has to do with in-service hours, blah, blah...problem is NO ONE I've ever spoken to remembers ever voting on something like this so it's probably a good idea to bring it up again since it must have happened so long ago...if it happened at all.
So, for the past few years, when we've had some wicked winter weather and went over by, oh, nine or ten days (really), we've had to lose holidays and then the Dreaded Add On An Extra Thirty Minutes To The Day routine, which everyone - parents, kids, teachers - just HATES. Adding an extra five minutes to my class periods really doesn't amount to much in the long run, and the parents absolutely hated how it messed up schedules. Finally enough parents complained and went to the School Board and they grudgingly gave the KIDS five inclement weather days and the teachers still get three. Which means if we go over, we'll end up at the end of the year sitting in in-services re-arranging our classrooms, or something that requires us to be in the building for 7.5 hours to make up the time.
So...that being said, it's November. And it's been freaking cold - especially for November. And they're predicting ice and snow over night.
So, now that we have 5 days, any bets on the fact that we may be using one of them up waaaaay before we usually do?
Waiting to see...
Friday, November 14, 2014
Yeah, I'm neglecting ya'll
But I'll try to be better.
In the meantime, the best kid comment of the day from one of my homeroom darlings who actually has parents who came to conferences.
"My mom and dad really liked you. They said you were the type of person they'd like to hang out with and have a beer with."
Well. That's a good sign, I suppose. I hope they're paying.
In the meantime, the best kid comment of the day from one of my homeroom darlings who actually has parents who came to conferences.
"My mom and dad really liked you. They said you were the type of person they'd like to hang out with and have a beer with."
Well. That's a good sign, I suppose. I hope they're paying.
Tuesday, September 30, 2014
Spirit Week - Or "Do You Have One of Those Machines?"
So last week was Spirit Week. This is new for the school, part of our SWPBS program, and was implemented to coincide with our High School's homecoming. Why not? These kids will belong to this high school in a short while, so might as well get them used to it. What surprised me was how much they got into it, especially since this was new.
It also gave teachers a chance to dress in jeans and other casual wear for an entire week.
Monday was school colors day which was a huge hit (red, white and blue). Tuesday was Twinsie Tuesday and kids, and staff, dressed alike. Loved the kids who dressed like The Enforcer, complete with coffee mug. (Mrs. Eagle and I dressed alike). Wednesday was Nerd Day, and again was really popular (lots of bow ties and pigtails). Thursday was Throwback Thursday and that was HUGE.
I, in particular, was looking forward to Throwback Thursday so I could relive my punk rock days. Since I happen to have a 1979 promo t-shirt for The Clash, black jeans, black Keds, lots of rock pins from the punk era, I went back to my favorite musical era. I even found some pink hair chalk and turned my hair pink which the kids loved. My favorite part of the outfit however, were my props - actual vinyl records from my collection by The Clash, the Ramones, and The Sex Pistols.
I took a few minutes to show the kids my records because, at 12-13 years of age, these kids definitely aren't that familiar with them. Many had heard of them, but hadn't really seen up close (defined as "allowed to touch" a real one). However, the best comment of the day came from one guy in my homeroom who asked, "Do you have one of those machines that you play it on?"
It took me a minute to realize he was asking if I had a record player, or turntable. Which I do. At home. But I never thought of it as a "machine to play a record on"...
And Friday was Green and Gold day and The High School won, for like the first time in a decade, their Homecoming game!
It also gave teachers a chance to dress in jeans and other casual wear for an entire week.
Monday was school colors day which was a huge hit (red, white and blue). Tuesday was Twinsie Tuesday and kids, and staff, dressed alike. Loved the kids who dressed like The Enforcer, complete with coffee mug. (Mrs. Eagle and I dressed alike). Wednesday was Nerd Day, and again was really popular (lots of bow ties and pigtails). Thursday was Throwback Thursday and that was HUGE.
I, in particular, was looking forward to Throwback Thursday so I could relive my punk rock days. Since I happen to have a 1979 promo t-shirt for The Clash, black jeans, black Keds, lots of rock pins from the punk era, I went back to my favorite musical era. I even found some pink hair chalk and turned my hair pink which the kids loved. My favorite part of the outfit however, were my props - actual vinyl records from my collection by The Clash, the Ramones, and The Sex Pistols.
I took a few minutes to show the kids my records because, at 12-13 years of age, these kids definitely aren't that familiar with them. Many had heard of them, but hadn't really seen up close (defined as "allowed to touch" a real one). However, the best comment of the day came from one guy in my homeroom who asked, "Do you have one of those machines that you play it on?"
It took me a minute to realize he was asking if I had a record player, or turntable. Which I do. At home. But I never thought of it as a "machine to play a record on"...
And Friday was Green and Gold day and The High School won, for like the first time in a decade, their Homecoming game!
Sunday, September 21, 2014
So Who's Whining Now?
It is a truth to be acknowledged that seventh grade is probably the toughest year for parents and kids and teachers. Basically once those pesky hormones hit, most kids just become raving lunatics for about 18 months (sometimes more, sometimes less) and aren't fit to be around during this period of time.
In middle school we have the sixth grade which is new and marvelous and the kids are, for the most part, still kind of sweet and want to please you.
In seventh grade they're, well, lumps that often get into trouble and have no idea why they do what they do. When you ask a seventh grader, especially a boy, "What were you thinking?" and the seventh grader replies, "I don't know," they aren't kidding. They Honestly Don't Know.
In eighth grade, they've matured over the summer and are starting to turn into young adults and you can have a half way pleasant conversation with them.
So, when it comes to faculty meetings and events where teachers from all three grade levels are present, most of the sixth and eighth grade teachers look at those of us who teach seventh grade as a bunch of whiners who are, most likely, nuts. If you have never taught seventh grade, and many people go through their entire career never having the pleasure, you just don't get it.
However, this year's eighth grade teachers are starting to feel our pain.
We sent them an interesting crop of kids. A real doozy of a bunch. Kids who have no sense of humor, no self-control, no common sense. And we warned them. And they said, "Sure, they can't be that bad, can they? After all, they'll mature over the summer and be just fine."
Except this bunch, for whatever reason, did not mature over the summer. At all. And if it is possible, got even worse.
And our eighth grade teachers are now running down to our end of the hallway screaming, "Good Lord, how did you deal with these kids! They're horrible! They're a nightmare! They won't work, they wont behave, they talk back! What's the secret to surviving this bunch?"
And we just smile. Prayer baby. Prayer.
Monday, September 15, 2014
Run, Scream, Eat Pizza...Repeat
It's been quite a few years since I chaperoned a middle school dance.
One reason why is that, with the increased emphasis on TESTING and DATA and SCORES, Mrs. Eagle, Mrs. Angora and I spend most of Friday afternoon drilling down data, doing lesson plans, copying work, getting labs ready, rearranging lab groups so we can differentiate, and basically, even without working a dance, we're lucky to get out of there by 7:30 pm or so.
But this week they were desperate, our husbands were not at home and we said, "What the hell?" and decided to volunteer.
Things haven't changed much except, if possible, they do less actual dancing.
They do, however, run, scream, hop, jump, scream, and eat a lot of pizza.
And I still left around 7:30 and was exhausted, but truthfully, it was kind of fun for a change.
One reason why is that, with the increased emphasis on TESTING and DATA and SCORES, Mrs. Eagle, Mrs. Angora and I spend most of Friday afternoon drilling down data, doing lesson plans, copying work, getting labs ready, rearranging lab groups so we can differentiate, and basically, even without working a dance, we're lucky to get out of there by 7:30 pm or so.
But this week they were desperate, our husbands were not at home and we said, "What the hell?" and decided to volunteer.
Things haven't changed much except, if possible, they do less actual dancing.
They do, however, run, scream, hop, jump, scream, and eat a lot of pizza.
And I still left around 7:30 and was exhausted, but truthfully, it was kind of fun for a change.
Saturday, September 06, 2014
The Return of My Red Headed Fireball
Last spring a new student arrived from Another Southern State who made quite an impression.
For one, he some of the reddest hair I have ever seen. And a personality to match. To say that the Red Headed Fireball is a handful is putting it mildly. He could tear up your classroom like nobody's business. The fact that he arrived at about three weeks before our Very Big Deal Government Mandated tests, when we were reviewing for the year - and keep in mind, he just came here - he was a bit lost. And so he acted out. A lot. Some days he drove me so batty that I'd send him down to Mrs. Eagle's class just to give everyone a break.
He also had a pretty tragic story, primarily he was orphaned and had moved in with his aunt and uncle who were planning on adopting him. At least he had somebody, but it doesn't make up for the fact that he'd lost his parents before he hit seventh grade. That's tough. We were told if he had issues to send him to guidance.
And one day I had him out in the hallway because he was doing something disruptive - again - and giving him yet another talk about behavior and manners and expectations, and I made some comment about losing my own dad barely a year earlier and things all of a sudden changed. He wanted to talk to me about losing my dad and losing his dad and next thing I knew, I had a Read Headed Fireball that took every chance he could to be in my room.
That hasn't changed.
My new room is on the corner of the 7th and 8th grade hallway, so most 8th graders have to go by in the morning to get to their classes, including My Read Headed Fireball. Every morning I get a hug and a conversation about how he's doing. In the afternoons he tried to sneak down when bus riders are dismissed, but kept getting caught by Mrs. Sparrow, one of the assistant principals, because he is supposed to go out the 8th grade door, not the 7th. Mrs. Sparrow came to me this past week and said that he is constantly trying to come down to my room and would I mind it horribly if he did come down during 8th grade homeroom because his homeroom teacher has her hands full (and boy does she - I saw her roster and it's a nightmare bunch). I said it wouldn't be a problem. His homeroom teacher was elated.
So now, the Red Headed Fireball, shows up at my door at 1:50, when I'm still teaching my 6th period. He goes quietly to my desk, where he starts on his homework, fixes my marble calendar for the next day, cleans up my desk, and generally makes himself useful. Once my kids go to their lockers, he'll want to have a discussion about his day and how it went and about football practice and all sorts of things.
And then he shows up, like he did on Thursday, when he's having a melt-down about something. He no longer wants to go to guidance, but wants to sit in my room. No problem. I called his music teacher, told her what was up (some kid made some comment about his mother, which You Do Not Do to a kid who has lost a parent) and she said keep him. He sat in on my third period, my largest class, which also has an aide in there with me. He did his work, alphabetized my kids assignments, helped hand out and collect laptops, and generally was useful. By the end of the day when he came by he was fine - the kid apologized for the "your momma" comment - and we were back obsessing about football.
This Red Headed Fireball needs a lot of mothering and apparently he has chosen me to do it.
And that's fine with me.
For one, he some of the reddest hair I have ever seen. And a personality to match. To say that the Red Headed Fireball is a handful is putting it mildly. He could tear up your classroom like nobody's business. The fact that he arrived at about three weeks before our Very Big Deal Government Mandated tests, when we were reviewing for the year - and keep in mind, he just came here - he was a bit lost. And so he acted out. A lot. Some days he drove me so batty that I'd send him down to Mrs. Eagle's class just to give everyone a break.
He also had a pretty tragic story, primarily he was orphaned and had moved in with his aunt and uncle who were planning on adopting him. At least he had somebody, but it doesn't make up for the fact that he'd lost his parents before he hit seventh grade. That's tough. We were told if he had issues to send him to guidance.
And one day I had him out in the hallway because he was doing something disruptive - again - and giving him yet another talk about behavior and manners and expectations, and I made some comment about losing my own dad barely a year earlier and things all of a sudden changed. He wanted to talk to me about losing my dad and losing his dad and next thing I knew, I had a Read Headed Fireball that took every chance he could to be in my room.
That hasn't changed.
My new room is on the corner of the 7th and 8th grade hallway, so most 8th graders have to go by in the morning to get to their classes, including My Read Headed Fireball. Every morning I get a hug and a conversation about how he's doing. In the afternoons he tried to sneak down when bus riders are dismissed, but kept getting caught by Mrs. Sparrow, one of the assistant principals, because he is supposed to go out the 8th grade door, not the 7th. Mrs. Sparrow came to me this past week and said that he is constantly trying to come down to my room and would I mind it horribly if he did come down during 8th grade homeroom because his homeroom teacher has her hands full (and boy does she - I saw her roster and it's a nightmare bunch). I said it wouldn't be a problem. His homeroom teacher was elated.
So now, the Red Headed Fireball, shows up at my door at 1:50, when I'm still teaching my 6th period. He goes quietly to my desk, where he starts on his homework, fixes my marble calendar for the next day, cleans up my desk, and generally makes himself useful. Once my kids go to their lockers, he'll want to have a discussion about his day and how it went and about football practice and all sorts of things.
And then he shows up, like he did on Thursday, when he's having a melt-down about something. He no longer wants to go to guidance, but wants to sit in my room. No problem. I called his music teacher, told her what was up (some kid made some comment about his mother, which You Do Not Do to a kid who has lost a parent) and she said keep him. He sat in on my third period, my largest class, which also has an aide in there with me. He did his work, alphabetized my kids assignments, helped hand out and collect laptops, and generally was useful. By the end of the day when he came by he was fine - the kid apologized for the "your momma" comment - and we were back obsessing about football.
This Red Headed Fireball needs a lot of mothering and apparently he has chosen me to do it.
And that's fine with me.
Ah, The Smell of Seventh Graders...
Friday was a weird freaking day.
Friday was going to be our first early dismissal where the kids get out two hours early so teachers can have meetings, in-service, training, blah, blah, blah.
As such, it was the first early dismissal day with our New Wonky Schedule. The Enforcer spent most of the past two weeks trying to figure out a schedule that enabled us to have most, if not all, of our academic classes, as well as get kids fed lunch, with a minimum of craziness. At the faculty meeting on Thursday he went over the plan which looked, for the most part, like it would work pretty well. Basically we cut out the kids' elective time and they simply went to their four core academic classes, plus lunch. However, being new, you never know. The Enforcer declared Friday a "casual dress day" just in case we had to "put out any fires, stop any meltdowns, and generally deal with the chaos a new schedule creates."
Looking back, I'm wondering if he regrets those words.
So, Friday started off pretty well. I had the kids on computers doing centers on plate tectonics using a variety of websites, plus I was going around and having them model the different plate boundaries for me using index cards and red construction paper (for magma, dontcha love it?). My inclusion class, which is my favorite class because the kids are so awesome, went great. Next was my fourth period which is my least favorite class, just because the mix of kids in there is toxic. It went pretty well, considering.
Five minutes left of fourth period and the freaking power goes out.
Great.
We were informed to hold our classes (because the hallways, even with the few windows and emergency lights, were really dark) and just sit tight. Strangely enough, we still had internet, so as long as the kids had battery power on their computer, they could keep working. Once they'd finished their centers, I had to come up with something to keep them busy so I had them race each other on Quizlet which is a great vocabulary building website.
One hour ticked by. It was dark, the AC was off, and it was getting really, really warm in the classroom. I started watching the thermometer tick up and up and up. Not good.
After another half hour ticked by (and they were now bored with the vocabulary races and the batteries were dying on the laptops), we were told to take them down to the cafeteria to get a cold lunch. So, lined them up, used the flashlight app on my phone to help light the way, and down we went. They got a PBJ, an apple, some chips, a frozen slushy, drinks, and back to the room we went where they could sit down and eat (it being too dark in the cafeteria for 375 seventh graders to eat.) They actually did pretty well and didn't make a huge mess, but it was getting hotter and hotter in the room. I could actually start to feel sweat trickle down my back. We were told we could crack our outside doors, but I when I opened mine it was really apparent that it was hotter outside than inside.
Seventh graders really start to smell, especially seventh grade boys, when the AC is off.
By this time everyone was hot, cranky, bored, and sick of each other. I was sick of them as well, especially because this is not my favorite bunch to start with. I finally had them put their heads down on their tables and listen to me read from the science book (again, thank goodness for my flashlight app) until we were told to have them go to their lockers and get ready to go.
Five minutes before they were to leave...the power comes back on.
Longest. Friday. Ever.
And the smelliest.
Friday was going to be our first early dismissal where the kids get out two hours early so teachers can have meetings, in-service, training, blah, blah, blah.
As such, it was the first early dismissal day with our New Wonky Schedule. The Enforcer spent most of the past two weeks trying to figure out a schedule that enabled us to have most, if not all, of our academic classes, as well as get kids fed lunch, with a minimum of craziness. At the faculty meeting on Thursday he went over the plan which looked, for the most part, like it would work pretty well. Basically we cut out the kids' elective time and they simply went to their four core academic classes, plus lunch. However, being new, you never know. The Enforcer declared Friday a "casual dress day" just in case we had to "put out any fires, stop any meltdowns, and generally deal with the chaos a new schedule creates."
Looking back, I'm wondering if he regrets those words.
So, Friday started off pretty well. I had the kids on computers doing centers on plate tectonics using a variety of websites, plus I was going around and having them model the different plate boundaries for me using index cards and red construction paper (for magma, dontcha love it?). My inclusion class, which is my favorite class because the kids are so awesome, went great. Next was my fourth period which is my least favorite class, just because the mix of kids in there is toxic. It went pretty well, considering.
Five minutes left of fourth period and the freaking power goes out.
Great.
We were informed to hold our classes (because the hallways, even with the few windows and emergency lights, were really dark) and just sit tight. Strangely enough, we still had internet, so as long as the kids had battery power on their computer, they could keep working. Once they'd finished their centers, I had to come up with something to keep them busy so I had them race each other on Quizlet which is a great vocabulary building website.
One hour ticked by. It was dark, the AC was off, and it was getting really, really warm in the classroom. I started watching the thermometer tick up and up and up. Not good.
After another half hour ticked by (and they were now bored with the vocabulary races and the batteries were dying on the laptops), we were told to take them down to the cafeteria to get a cold lunch. So, lined them up, used the flashlight app on my phone to help light the way, and down we went. They got a PBJ, an apple, some chips, a frozen slushy, drinks, and back to the room we went where they could sit down and eat (it being too dark in the cafeteria for 375 seventh graders to eat.) They actually did pretty well and didn't make a huge mess, but it was getting hotter and hotter in the room. I could actually start to feel sweat trickle down my back. We were told we could crack our outside doors, but I when I opened mine it was really apparent that it was hotter outside than inside.
Seventh graders really start to smell, especially seventh grade boys, when the AC is off.
By this time everyone was hot, cranky, bored, and sick of each other. I was sick of them as well, especially because this is not my favorite bunch to start with. I finally had them put their heads down on their tables and listen to me read from the science book (again, thank goodness for my flashlight app) until we were told to have them go to their lockers and get ready to go.
Five minutes before they were to leave...the power comes back on.
Longest. Friday. Ever.
And the smelliest.
Monday, September 01, 2014
So It's All About the Relationships
We're always being told at The School, that good teaching is about building relationships with kids. That's one thing I can't argue about (and oh, I can argue about a lot of stuff lately.)
Some of the best relationships I have with kids have spilled over into their young adult-hood. The Daughter We Never Had (TDWNH) is a case in point. She has never lost touch with me, we hired her as a house and pet-sitter, she also cleans my house (I feel I'm helping pay for nursing school that way), she texts or calls me almost daily and generally Mr. Bluebird and I love her as if she were our own.
However.
I'm not sure The Powers That Be consider "building relationships with students" to include going out to the local firing range and firing pistols and shotguns with one of your former students.
Oh but gosh, we had a blast! And she was tickled, as she put it, "To finally get the two of you out of the house for some fun!"
I love that girl.
Some of the best relationships I have with kids have spilled over into their young adult-hood. The Daughter We Never Had (TDWNH) is a case in point. She has never lost touch with me, we hired her as a house and pet-sitter, she also cleans my house (I feel I'm helping pay for nursing school that way), she texts or calls me almost daily and generally Mr. Bluebird and I love her as if she were our own.
However.
I'm not sure The Powers That Be consider "building relationships with students" to include going out to the local firing range and firing pistols and shotguns with one of your former students.
Oh but gosh, we had a blast! And she was tickled, as she put it, "To finally get the two of you out of the house for some fun!"
I love that girl.
The Offspring
It has happened.
I have been invited to a baby shower for two of my students (who married each other).
I hate baby showers. I particularly hate baby showers for kids I had when they were 12. It means we're all getting older.
Sigh.
I have been invited to a baby shower for two of my students (who married each other).
I hate baby showers. I particularly hate baby showers for kids I had when they were 12. It means we're all getting older.
Sigh.
Wednesday, August 27, 2014
The Obsession with Throwing
Our team is at the point where we're about ready to ban erasers.
Because erasers, you see, are wonderful projectiles. Especially when they're torn up into smaller pieces. And our book fair, which ended yesterday, sold a ton of erasers which are now being systematically dissembled and launched across our classrooms.
I rarely write kids up, but one thing that will cause a write up faster than their heads can spin around is throwing things. We had a girl today smacked in the eye with an eraser and that's exactly why the throwing is a big deal with me.
So, I basically informed them that if they so much as even made a throwing motion, regardless of whether or not they actually threw anything, I. Would. Write. Them. Up. No questions asked.
It's not a democracy in my room. It's a benevolent dictatorship, and they better figure that out.
Because erasers, you see, are wonderful projectiles. Especially when they're torn up into smaller pieces. And our book fair, which ended yesterday, sold a ton of erasers which are now being systematically dissembled and launched across our classrooms.
I rarely write kids up, but one thing that will cause a write up faster than their heads can spin around is throwing things. We had a girl today smacked in the eye with an eraser and that's exactly why the throwing is a big deal with me.
So, I basically informed them that if they so much as even made a throwing motion, regardless of whether or not they actually threw anything, I. Would. Write. Them. Up. No questions asked.
It's not a democracy in my room. It's a benevolent dictatorship, and they better figure that out.
Sunday, August 17, 2014
28 Bells...
We have a new schedule this year...for a number of reasons.
We've gone from 7 periods to 6, mainly because The State says that we can no longer have a reading teacher and an ELA teacher, but one person doing both. So, we also went from 5 people on a team to 4. The good news is that it means we have classes that are nearly an hour long. We have been 47 minutes long for the past five years (and our test scores sucked compared to when we had hour long classes but admin apparently didn't see the connection...)
And then we solved the nightmare that is lunch, mainly trying to feed over 300 kids in 30 minutes. And if you're a seventh grader this year, 373 kids in 30 minutes.
Basically, starting with sixth grade, each team goes in 15 minute intervals. Now, this does mean that we interrupt my fourth period, but let me tell you, there is a world of difference when there are only, say, 100 kids walking to lunch as opposed to 300 kids. In some cases, my class, depending on the timing, may be the only class moving to or from lunch and they are in line and silent. No jumping up and smacking the ceiling, no yelling, no out of line, they are doing it right. And the only thing I can figure is because there's only 25 of them at the moment, and no distractions from other classes.
It's been amazing. Lunch is quiet, everyone gets fed, it is wonderful.
However. It also means that every grade level is on a slightly different schedule and we have 28 different bells that ring all day long.
All. Day. Long.
I have our schedule printed in huge font hanging behind my desk because even I have trouble remembering what time we do what. So when a bell goes off, and the kids look at me, I end up saying, "Not us," and moving on. I also had to put a timer on my iPad to remind me when I had only 5 minutes left (and to remind me to take the kids to lunch.) Even then, it's a bit wonky and I'm hoping pretty soon we start ignoring the bells that aren't ours.
If they could only do a different tone for the different grade levels, it would be so much easier.
P.S. Someone asked the question about couldn't teachers get the kids to lunch without bells? Well, interestingly enough the only time a bell doesn't go off is for the different lunch periods. The bells are going off for class changes between periods, and then tardy bells. So, for example, a bell will go off for the sixth grade to end 1st and go to 2nd period; then four minutes later a 2nd period bell will go off for 6th grade. Then an 8th grade bell will go off, etc. Due to these funky lunches, the class periods do not line up equally at the same time for each grade.
I know, we don't get it either.
We've gone from 7 periods to 6, mainly because The State says that we can no longer have a reading teacher and an ELA teacher, but one person doing both. So, we also went from 5 people on a team to 4. The good news is that it means we have classes that are nearly an hour long. We have been 47 minutes long for the past five years (and our test scores sucked compared to when we had hour long classes but admin apparently didn't see the connection...)
And then we solved the nightmare that is lunch, mainly trying to feed over 300 kids in 30 minutes. And if you're a seventh grader this year, 373 kids in 30 minutes.
Basically, starting with sixth grade, each team goes in 15 minute intervals. Now, this does mean that we interrupt my fourth period, but let me tell you, there is a world of difference when there are only, say, 100 kids walking to lunch as opposed to 300 kids. In some cases, my class, depending on the timing, may be the only class moving to or from lunch and they are in line and silent. No jumping up and smacking the ceiling, no yelling, no out of line, they are doing it right. And the only thing I can figure is because there's only 25 of them at the moment, and no distractions from other classes.
It's been amazing. Lunch is quiet, everyone gets fed, it is wonderful.
However. It also means that every grade level is on a slightly different schedule and we have 28 different bells that ring all day long.
All. Day. Long.
I have our schedule printed in huge font hanging behind my desk because even I have trouble remembering what time we do what. So when a bell goes off, and the kids look at me, I end up saying, "Not us," and moving on. I also had to put a timer on my iPad to remind me when I had only 5 minutes left (and to remind me to take the kids to lunch.) Even then, it's a bit wonky and I'm hoping pretty soon we start ignoring the bells that aren't ours.
If they could only do a different tone for the different grade levels, it would be so much easier.
P.S. Someone asked the question about couldn't teachers get the kids to lunch without bells? Well, interestingly enough the only time a bell doesn't go off is for the different lunch periods. The bells are going off for class changes between periods, and then tardy bells. So, for example, a bell will go off for the sixth grade to end 1st and go to 2nd period; then four minutes later a 2nd period bell will go off for 6th grade. Then an 8th grade bell will go off, etc. Due to these funky lunches, the class periods do not line up equally at the same time for each grade.
I know, we don't get it either.
Tuesday, August 12, 2014
I Hate You But I Can't Stay Away...
Last year I had a seventh grader we'll call Auburn Boy (because he is obsessed with Auburn University). Auburn Boy started off the year really rough. He didn't do any work, would saunter in whenever he felt like it (which meant that he was pretty soon visiting with administrators due to tardies), and generally was a little turd.
The second nine weeks, after much prodding on my part and a stint or two in ISS for tardies, he decided getting to class on time and doing his work was not going to kill him. He was in my little class of 16, and loved to talk and could be a royal pain, but I really liked the kid. For one, he was funny. He also seemed to need a lot of attention, especially in January when Mom had twins and suddenly he was the oldest, by quite a bit, and had four brothers and sisters below him - the newborns, a 3 year old and a Kindergartener. He was starved for attention (although he wouldn't admit it) and he would do everything he could to engage me in a conversation regardless of the time or circumstances.
However, a conversation with Auburn Boy could be a challenging experience. He got mad easily, would pout, stomp his feet, throw up his hands and act like a frustrated and annoyed teenager. A typical conversation would go like this:
"Hey kiddo, get your homework out now, we're going over it."
"Jeez, lay off, I'm getting it out now...stop being so darn pushy."
But here's what's weird. I couldn't get rid of the kid. He acted like he hated me most of the time, but he wouldn't go away. I didn't have him until sixth period, but he'd come by in the morning, claiming he needed a pencil. Then he'd come by a little later with another excuse (usually another pencil although when he sensed I was getting annoyed with the pencil bit, he'd ask for paper.) He'd show up sixth period for class, and then after seventh, he'd show up for afternoon homeroom.
Except he wasn't in my homeroom. He was in Mr. Dobbie's (as in Dobbie Gills...long story) room. But Mr. Dobbie kept letting him come over, and after a while he just came on his own and I'd send Mr. Dobbie an email letting him know he was there. Auburn Boy and his mom and I got to be quite good friends as he'd text her (from my phone) about staying after for a club or something and she'd answer back. He became somewhat as permanent in my room as some of the furniture.
So today is our third full day with our kids and I'm there doing my thing sixth period when I look up and there is Auburn Boy, now an 8th grader, standing in my doorway with a pass around his neck (which meant he had permission so there).
First words out of my mouth? "Do you need a pencil?"
He smiled. "No, just thought I'd come by." My seventh graders are quiet and looking over at him. It is, after all, a real 8th grader.
"Really," I said. "Are you sure?"
"Yup,"....I walked over and we proceeded to have a conversation, but he never would say (or admit) why he was there. He just wanted to be there I guess. I told him he could stay and sit in the back and watch, and he said no, he just wanted to check in.
And then he left.
I had a friend tell me once that being horrible, for some kids, is a way of letting you know they love you. Maybe they're right, because Auburn Boy and I had our share of battles last year. But he just kept coming back. And now, it looks like he's still coming back.
And I'm really happy about that.
The second nine weeks, after much prodding on my part and a stint or two in ISS for tardies, he decided getting to class on time and doing his work was not going to kill him. He was in my little class of 16, and loved to talk and could be a royal pain, but I really liked the kid. For one, he was funny. He also seemed to need a lot of attention, especially in January when Mom had twins and suddenly he was the oldest, by quite a bit, and had four brothers and sisters below him - the newborns, a 3 year old and a Kindergartener. He was starved for attention (although he wouldn't admit it) and he would do everything he could to engage me in a conversation regardless of the time or circumstances.
However, a conversation with Auburn Boy could be a challenging experience. He got mad easily, would pout, stomp his feet, throw up his hands and act like a frustrated and annoyed teenager. A typical conversation would go like this:
"Hey kiddo, get your homework out now, we're going over it."
"Jeez, lay off, I'm getting it out now...stop being so darn pushy."
But here's what's weird. I couldn't get rid of the kid. He acted like he hated me most of the time, but he wouldn't go away. I didn't have him until sixth period, but he'd come by in the morning, claiming he needed a pencil. Then he'd come by a little later with another excuse (usually another pencil although when he sensed I was getting annoyed with the pencil bit, he'd ask for paper.) He'd show up sixth period for class, and then after seventh, he'd show up for afternoon homeroom.
Except he wasn't in my homeroom. He was in Mr. Dobbie's (as in Dobbie Gills...long story) room. But Mr. Dobbie kept letting him come over, and after a while he just came on his own and I'd send Mr. Dobbie an email letting him know he was there. Auburn Boy and his mom and I got to be quite good friends as he'd text her (from my phone) about staying after for a club or something and she'd answer back. He became somewhat as permanent in my room as some of the furniture.
So today is our third full day with our kids and I'm there doing my thing sixth period when I look up and there is Auburn Boy, now an 8th grader, standing in my doorway with a pass around his neck (which meant he had permission so there).
First words out of my mouth? "Do you need a pencil?"
He smiled. "No, just thought I'd come by." My seventh graders are quiet and looking over at him. It is, after all, a real 8th grader.
"Really," I said. "Are you sure?"
"Yup,"....I walked over and we proceeded to have a conversation, but he never would say (or admit) why he was there. He just wanted to be there I guess. I told him he could stay and sit in the back and watch, and he said no, he just wanted to check in.
And then he left.
I had a friend tell me once that being horrible, for some kids, is a way of letting you know they love you. Maybe they're right, because Auburn Boy and I had our share of battles last year. But he just kept coming back. And now, it looks like he's still coming back.
And I'm really happy about that.
Thursday, August 07, 2014
And Bam! We're back!
Yeah, yeah, yeah...I've neglected you.
Sorry.
But last year, well, it just sucked. Between dealing some more with my Dad's estate (finally, finally, finally finished that up a week ago), and the absolute amazing amount of stupid crap that is rolling down our way from the Federal Department of Education, the State Department of Education, to the District, to The School, and so forth...well, last year was the first year I thought "Maybe I should just say the hell with it, quit, and go get an office job somewhere."
Really.
It Was That Bad.
Our District and Our State are just OBSESSED with test scores. And sorry, but I didn't go back to school at 38 to become a teacher so that I could administer Very Big Deal Government Mandated Tests to kids.
That Is NOT Why I Do This. At All. Very Big Deal Government Mandated Tests are a two hour block on one day out of one year in a kid's life. It should not define the kid and it shouldn't define the teacher. Unfortunately, that is exactly what is happening. And It Pisses Me Off.
My kids are not a data point. They should not be defined by one test score. Hell, I don't think they should be defined by any collection of tests scores. But that is exactly what is happening. (And if there are any parents out there reading this, wake up! Because NOTHING will change until the parents get pissed off and start complaining...teachers and our opinions are not respected in this current political climate.)
So, that, in a nutshell, is why I didn't post much last year, this summer, and so on. I was just so angry, disillusioned, and pissed off.
And then Stoopid Boy found me again. I posted earlier this spring about Stoopid Boy and his best friend Skater Squirt who both tracked me down and who I was able to reconnect with now that they're both adults (gosh, 21 years of age! ACK, I feel old!) My husband and I actually got to spend quite a bit of time with them over the summer, especially Stoopid Boy.
It turns out that during his Junior year in High School, Stoopid Boy's parents purchased a house Right Up The Street from me. Which means for, oh, about 5 years he's been driving past my house several times a day and never knew it. So, whenever he's in the area to see his folks, he drops by. He invited me to come see him play in the band at his church, and Mr. Bluebird and I enjoyed the church and the people so much, we have started to attend regularly. And I have become very good friends with his mother, to the point that Mrs. Eagle and I have spent some nice summer afternoons hanging around, doing lunch and sitting by her pool. (It is nice to have a friend with a pool.) Skater Squirt has been very, very busy with work, but we have managed to have him over a few times as well. Mr. Bluebird commented the other day that it's like we suddenly had two nice young men as sons without the aggravation of having to raise them.
And I was venting the other day about how depressed I was to be starting school again, how they have taken the joy out of teaching, and how I just didn't have it in me, and Stoopid Boy looked at me and said, "But you loved on me and I turned out okay. Those kids need you to love on them."
And he was right.
So tomorrow, when they show up for the first full day of school, I'm going to remember that my job is to love on them.
And screw the test scores.
Sorry.
But last year, well, it just sucked. Between dealing some more with my Dad's estate (finally, finally, finally finished that up a week ago), and the absolute amazing amount of stupid crap that is rolling down our way from the Federal Department of Education, the State Department of Education, to the District, to The School, and so forth...well, last year was the first year I thought "Maybe I should just say the hell with it, quit, and go get an office job somewhere."
Really.
It Was That Bad.
Our District and Our State are just OBSESSED with test scores. And sorry, but I didn't go back to school at 38 to become a teacher so that I could administer Very Big Deal Government Mandated Tests to kids.
That Is NOT Why I Do This. At All. Very Big Deal Government Mandated Tests are a two hour block on one day out of one year in a kid's life. It should not define the kid and it shouldn't define the teacher. Unfortunately, that is exactly what is happening. And It Pisses Me Off.
My kids are not a data point. They should not be defined by one test score. Hell, I don't think they should be defined by any collection of tests scores. But that is exactly what is happening. (And if there are any parents out there reading this, wake up! Because NOTHING will change until the parents get pissed off and start complaining...teachers and our opinions are not respected in this current political climate.)
So, that, in a nutshell, is why I didn't post much last year, this summer, and so on. I was just so angry, disillusioned, and pissed off.
And then Stoopid Boy found me again. I posted earlier this spring about Stoopid Boy and his best friend Skater Squirt who both tracked me down and who I was able to reconnect with now that they're both adults (gosh, 21 years of age! ACK, I feel old!) My husband and I actually got to spend quite a bit of time with them over the summer, especially Stoopid Boy.
It turns out that during his Junior year in High School, Stoopid Boy's parents purchased a house Right Up The Street from me. Which means for, oh, about 5 years he's been driving past my house several times a day and never knew it. So, whenever he's in the area to see his folks, he drops by. He invited me to come see him play in the band at his church, and Mr. Bluebird and I enjoyed the church and the people so much, we have started to attend regularly. And I have become very good friends with his mother, to the point that Mrs. Eagle and I have spent some nice summer afternoons hanging around, doing lunch and sitting by her pool. (It is nice to have a friend with a pool.) Skater Squirt has been very, very busy with work, but we have managed to have him over a few times as well. Mr. Bluebird commented the other day that it's like we suddenly had two nice young men as sons without the aggravation of having to raise them.
And I was venting the other day about how depressed I was to be starting school again, how they have taken the joy out of teaching, and how I just didn't have it in me, and Stoopid Boy looked at me and said, "But you loved on me and I turned out okay. Those kids need you to love on them."
And he was right.
So tomorrow, when they show up for the first full day of school, I'm going to remember that my job is to love on them.
And screw the test scores.
Sunday, May 11, 2014
Middle School Street Party
Two weeks ago we spent four very long days taking the Very Big Deal Government Mandated Tests. This is, sadly, very high stakes, so we do what we can to motivate the kids to help them focus and do their best.
Including a flash mob dance with the teachers during an assembly. That, surprisingly enough, went off better than we thought and the kids went INSANE when they figured out what was going on. We had one teacher choreograph the dance (very basic, very simple) and we practiced in the mornings in her room, a few times after school, and some people just watched a video. The only time we actually did it with all of us together was during the assembly. Amazing we did it and word didn't leak out to the kids.
The other thing we've done the past few years is allow the kids to earn testing "money" which they can then spend at a big party after we're done. They get a "dollar" for being on time, for using all the testing time (no putting your head down and sleeping/drooling), and they get another one for checking their work, underlining, highlighting, etc. They can then use the "dollars" to buy things like pizza, hot dogs, drinks, cotton candy, popcorn, and then visit booths where they can get their nails done, hair sprayed a vibrant color, a temporary tattoo, and more.
The party this year was probably the best ever, and it had a lot to do with the weather and location. We moved it completely outside this year with seven inflatables (I was on inflatable duty which was amusing), football, basketball, a food zone, and a DJ and dance area. By the time you get nearly 1100 kids out there, you have the DJ blasting music, kids dancing, playing games, running around and screaming, it looked like a block party for middle schoolers. And the weather? Absolutely amazingly perfect.
The kids were awesome. No fights, just fun. Imagine that.
Including a flash mob dance with the teachers during an assembly. That, surprisingly enough, went off better than we thought and the kids went INSANE when they figured out what was going on. We had one teacher choreograph the dance (very basic, very simple) and we practiced in the mornings in her room, a few times after school, and some people just watched a video. The only time we actually did it with all of us together was during the assembly. Amazing we did it and word didn't leak out to the kids.
The other thing we've done the past few years is allow the kids to earn testing "money" which they can then spend at a big party after we're done. They get a "dollar" for being on time, for using all the testing time (no putting your head down and sleeping/drooling), and they get another one for checking their work, underlining, highlighting, etc. They can then use the "dollars" to buy things like pizza, hot dogs, drinks, cotton candy, popcorn, and then visit booths where they can get their nails done, hair sprayed a vibrant color, a temporary tattoo, and more.
The party this year was probably the best ever, and it had a lot to do with the weather and location. We moved it completely outside this year with seven inflatables (I was on inflatable duty which was amusing), football, basketball, a food zone, and a DJ and dance area. By the time you get nearly 1100 kids out there, you have the DJ blasting music, kids dancing, playing games, running around and screaming, it looked like a block party for middle schoolers. And the weather? Absolutely amazingly perfect.
The kids were awesome. No fights, just fun. Imagine that.
Wednesday, April 30, 2014
All Grown Up and I'm So Proud...or The Return of Stoopid Boy
I've been teaching at The School long enough that some of my earlier kids are now legal adults, some with kids of their own.
To tell you the truth that really kind of freaks me out.
Some of my kids have kept in touch with me through the years, including one who my husband and I pretty much consider to be our own - she house sits for us, cleans my house for me (I figure I'm helping pay for nursing school that way), and comes over to borrow books for her classes from our library of history books. She's doing great, and I couldn't be happier or more proud if she was my own. I often hear how some of her classmates are doing which is great because her class was special. That group of kids had some of my favorites. Not the best kids, but my favorites.
Including Stoopid Boy.
Stoopid Boy was, without a doubt, one of my favorite kids ever. His best friend, one of the Skater Squirts was another one of my favorites. So when Skater Squirt found me through a post I'd made on The Nursing Student's Facebook page, I didn't hesitate to strike up a conversation to see how he and Stoopid Boy were doing. These kids were just the kind of kids that never left your heart.
And the fact that Skater Squirt posted that I was his very favorite teacher - ever - well, that just knocked it out of the park.
These two did not have the best seventh grade years - Stoopid Boy, in particular, had one of the worst seventh grade experiences on record, including a stint in Alternative School. He wasn't a bad kid, he just made bad decisions and had an uncanny ability to get caught all the time. But he had a good heart, and some of us could see that despite the attitude and behavior. Skater Squirt wasn't a trouble maker, but he was definitely a kid who wasn't all that interested in academics, but was more into music and being outside, and doing things. (I was the teacher who introduced him to Jimi Hendrix.)
After a few months of chatting on line, these two young men (because they're now both 21!) came over and had dinner with Mr. Bluebird and I the other evening. I cannot begin to share what a blessing it was to have these two mature, interesting, funny, and delightful young men spend time with us.
The best part? They are fine. They are doing well. They seem happy and together and grounded and just everything I would have hoped they would be. They survived middle school and became productive adults.
This is one proud momma Bluebird. And I'm glad they're back in my life. They are truly gentlemen.
To tell you the truth that really kind of freaks me out.
Some of my kids have kept in touch with me through the years, including one who my husband and I pretty much consider to be our own - she house sits for us, cleans my house for me (I figure I'm helping pay for nursing school that way), and comes over to borrow books for her classes from our library of history books. She's doing great, and I couldn't be happier or more proud if she was my own. I often hear how some of her classmates are doing which is great because her class was special. That group of kids had some of my favorites. Not the best kids, but my favorites.
Including Stoopid Boy.
Stoopid Boy was, without a doubt, one of my favorite kids ever. His best friend, one of the Skater Squirts was another one of my favorites. So when Skater Squirt found me through a post I'd made on The Nursing Student's Facebook page, I didn't hesitate to strike up a conversation to see how he and Stoopid Boy were doing. These kids were just the kind of kids that never left your heart.
And the fact that Skater Squirt posted that I was his very favorite teacher - ever - well, that just knocked it out of the park.
These two did not have the best seventh grade years - Stoopid Boy, in particular, had one of the worst seventh grade experiences on record, including a stint in Alternative School. He wasn't a bad kid, he just made bad decisions and had an uncanny ability to get caught all the time. But he had a good heart, and some of us could see that despite the attitude and behavior. Skater Squirt wasn't a trouble maker, but he was definitely a kid who wasn't all that interested in academics, but was more into music and being outside, and doing things. (I was the teacher who introduced him to Jimi Hendrix.)
After a few months of chatting on line, these two young men (because they're now both 21!) came over and had dinner with Mr. Bluebird and I the other evening. I cannot begin to share what a blessing it was to have these two mature, interesting, funny, and delightful young men spend time with us.
The best part? They are fine. They are doing well. They seem happy and together and grounded and just everything I would have hoped they would be. They survived middle school and became productive adults.
This is one proud momma Bluebird. And I'm glad they're back in my life. They are truly gentlemen.
Wednesday, April 23, 2014
Once I Get Caught Up...
On grading, and reviewing for The Very Big Deal Government Mandated Test, I'll be back to posting....
Promise.
Promise.
Tuesday, April 01, 2014
It Sounds Weird When She Says It
Today was the last day of notes for our Body System unit.
We finished up with the Reproductive System.
No imagine how much fun this can be, teaching the reproductive system to a bunch of 12 and 13 year olds. Better yet? How about a class with 22 boys in it.
What a hoot!
"Mrs. Bluebird, are you really going to say the words?" one of them asked as he looked down at the graphic organizer on the unit that has such fun middle school words as testes, penis, ovary, etc.
"You bet I am," I told them, and then proceeded to go through the lesson.
Best comment? "It sounds really weird when she says, you know, THAT word."
BAHAHAHAHAH
We finished up with the Reproductive System.
No imagine how much fun this can be, teaching the reproductive system to a bunch of 12 and 13 year olds. Better yet? How about a class with 22 boys in it.
What a hoot!
"Mrs. Bluebird, are you really going to say the words?" one of them asked as he looked down at the graphic organizer on the unit that has such fun middle school words as testes, penis, ovary, etc.
"You bet I am," I told them, and then proceeded to go through the lesson.
Best comment? "It sounds really weird when she says, you know, THAT word."
BAHAHAHAHAH
Wednesday, March 26, 2014
Will Winter Never End?
Spring Break (part two as we're calling it since we lost a week of school due to ice about three weeks ago) started on Monday.
On Tuesday it snowed and sleeted most of the day.
Really.
On Tuesday it snowed and sleeted most of the day.
Really.
Guts and Gore, or Why I Love Teaching Body Systems
Mrs. Eagle, Mrs. Angora and I are on our last unit before we start reviewing for The Very Big Deal Government Mandated tests that happen the end of April. And as luck would have it, one of our very favorite units to teach is the very last one - The Body Systems Unit. This unit is so much fun to teach because it can be so disgusting and gory.
And if you want to engage a seventh grader, especially a seventh grade boy, disgusting and gory is the way to go.
We have a real human skeleton at The School (it was bought for The School when it opened as a Junior High in 1965) which we can roll out and show the kids. Of course, most of the kids wanted to take a selfie with it and I informed them that since it happened to have been a real person at one time, to have a little respect and to put their phones away.
After that we have the pig lungs which we put on a contraption with a bellows so we can inflate and deflate them. I like to put them on the document reader first and zoom in so the kids and see how soft and squishy they are. The sight of squishy, pink, tissue sends some of them over the edge. The smell doesn't help either. At this point, you start to see kids put their heads down on their desk.
Then there's the sheep's brain and the cow eye. (The cow eye is fun to put on the document reader and then tell the kids "I can see you!")
But we decided to spend some of our own money this year (budget is done with) and bought a few tongues, some kidneys, and some fetal pigs to actually dissect for them. (They don't get to actual dissection until high school.)
I can't wait for that. It might be gross, but they'll remember it. Trust me. I have one student who's going to college to be a nurse based on seeing those pig lungs a few years ago.
Now that's engagement.
And if you want to engage a seventh grader, especially a seventh grade boy, disgusting and gory is the way to go.
We have a real human skeleton at The School (it was bought for The School when it opened as a Junior High in 1965) which we can roll out and show the kids. Of course, most of the kids wanted to take a selfie with it and I informed them that since it happened to have been a real person at one time, to have a little respect and to put their phones away.
After that we have the pig lungs which we put on a contraption with a bellows so we can inflate and deflate them. I like to put them on the document reader first and zoom in so the kids and see how soft and squishy they are. The sight of squishy, pink, tissue sends some of them over the edge. The smell doesn't help either. At this point, you start to see kids put their heads down on their desk.
Then there's the sheep's brain and the cow eye. (The cow eye is fun to put on the document reader and then tell the kids "I can see you!")
But we decided to spend some of our own money this year (budget is done with) and bought a few tongues, some kidneys, and some fetal pigs to actually dissect for them. (They don't get to actual dissection until high school.)
I can't wait for that. It might be gross, but they'll remember it. Trust me. I have one student who's going to college to be a nurse based on seeing those pig lungs a few years ago.
Now that's engagement.
Monday, March 03, 2014
And the Root of the Word is...
Entertaining is trying to explain the meaning of the word "homozygous" to a class of 22 boys.
Use your imagination.
Can't wait for the body systems unit.
Use your imagination.
Can't wait for the body systems unit.
Where is Spring?
Our district only gives us three snow days. Every other district around has something like ten, but no, we have three. They always trot out a long-winded explanation about how we use these stockpiled days for in-service and early release (for more in-service) and blah, blah, blah, blah....and how teachers voted on this YEARS ago. However, no one I know even remembers voting for this, and it seems our winters our getting worse, so we're all a bit miffed.
So here we our, on a snow day (should be called an ice day) and we'll probably have one tomorrow since it's not warming up any, there's no sun, and there's 3 inches of ice pellets frozen everywhere. Which means, lucky us, they start adding 30 minutes to the school day to make it up.
Ick.
Not happy.
So here we our, on a snow day (should be called an ice day) and we'll probably have one tomorrow since it's not warming up any, there's no sun, and there's 3 inches of ice pellets frozen everywhere. Which means, lucky us, they start adding 30 minutes to the school day to make it up.
Ick.
Not happy.
Saturday, February 08, 2014
If You Don't Do Your Assignment You Will Die!
My sixth period is a really small class. So small, in fact, that it almost seems as if we are just hanging out, doing science, and relaxing. They all pretty much get along, which is unusual, and seem to enjoy each other. The conversations between them can be quite entertaining.
Yesterday the kids were working on posters about the carbon cycle. Big Huge Boy, who is about 6'4" tall and who does NOTHING and freely admits he's just lazy and doesn't care, made a comment that he didn't want to do the assignment. He often chooses to not do assignments, which is why he has grades in the 20's. Calling home is pointless because the parents, who have a history of drug addiction, can't get it together enough to parent. Staying clean is their focus.
I made the comment that I didn't want to do my taxes either, but I did them. There are just some things in life you do, regardless if you want to do them or not.
"Yeah, but I still don't want to so it," he whined.
That is when Super Boy (funny, cool, popular gifted kid obsessed with super heroes) stepped in.
"If you don't do your assignment, you will get a zero. If you get a zero, you fail. If you fail seventh grade, you go to summer school. If you go to summer school, you will get depressed because you don't get a summer. When you get depressed about not having a summer you drop out of school. When you drop out of school, your parents kick you out. When your parents kick you out you have to live in a ditch. When you live in a ditch you get even more depressed. When you get even more depressed, you cut your wrists. When you cut your wrists you will die! So if you don't do your assignment you are going to DIE!"
At this point there is complete and absolute silence in the room and every kid is looking at Super Boy in awe. Big Huge Boy is looking shocked with his mouth hanging open.
"Wow," said Auburn Boy. "That was impressive."
And then we all started laughing. What I would have given for a video of that moment!
Saturday, January 25, 2014
Out if the Mouths of Babes
My 6th period is so small, at 15 kids, that the kids are almost too comfortable . There are times they act like they're sitting around in someone's living room and just happen to be doing school at the same time. (Don't ask about the class sizes. We have block scheduling for English/Language Arts which means I have two classes of 30 and one of 15.)
I'm showing a PowerPoint and the kids are taking notes on cell processes. The room is quiet and all of a sudden Diva Girl raises her hand so I call on her.
"Mrs. Bluebird, what do teachers do in their free time?" she asks. (Of course, this has nothing to do with what we're talking about.)
I respond with the first thing that comes to mind, "We grade papers," I tell them, "lots and lots of papers." Then I decided to amend it a bit. "We aren't different than anyone else. We take care of our families, have hobbies, the same things everyone else does."
At this point, one of the other kids, Auburn Boy, who happens to be sitting right in front of where I'm standing says, "if I were a teacher I'd be drinking every night."
That was the second thing that crossed my mind.
At that point I just cracked up, along with the rest of the class.
Wednesday, January 22, 2014
Baby It's Cold Outside
Here in my Beloved South we just aren't prepared for temperatures in the single digits.
That being said, it's been an interesting January. We were late getting back to school after our Christmas break due to the temperatures. Well, actually we were supposed to have four inches of snow on the Sunday evening before we went back, so they cancelled the teacher work day for Monday. The snow wasn't as bad as they thought but then the temperature dropped like a rock.
Teachers reported that Tuesday and it was a whopping 1 degree that morning. I teach in a 49 year old building that had its own weather system so I was expecting the worst. After all, even on a normal day when the temperature is in the 50's we have rooms that are freezing, others that are sweltering, and others like mine that change throughout the day. So I had on hand knit socks, layers, and even brought a wool shawl I could use as a blanket if needed. As luck would have it, we had no problems. Amazing.
However, other buildings, especially those with portables and those that were actually newer, had issues with frozen and bursting pipes and heating systems that wouldn't work. It was fairly wide spread so they cancelled school for the following day so they could get the buildings back up to par. Not to mention all the buses that wouldn't start.
Most of us thought that was a good idea, mainly because it meant our kids weren't waiting for a bus when the wind chill was -5.
Now, my students Up North would have no problem waiting for a bus in weather like that, but they have the clothes for it. My kids don't. Heavens, were seeing temps that haven't been this low since 1994! Some of my boys are still wearing basketball shorts in this weather with just a hoodie for a coat. Gloves? Unheard of.
And here we go again. Temperature tomorrow is supposed to be -10 to -5. Some school systems are starting to close...wonder what we will end up doing?
Tuesday, January 14, 2014
The View from My Couch
Okey dokey, so I haven't blogged for a while.
Truth be told I haven't done much for a while.
You know how you look forward to break so you can relax, and get some things done, and enjoy your family and all that? And you have all these great plans? Well, I did too, although, compared to most people, they were quite tame. Hanging out with Hubby, cleaning out my office, getting organized for 2014, reading, knitting, seeing some movies, some quick day trips, and all sorts of fun things. I was looking forward to this time off for weeks.
And then, lucky me, I got strep throat. And, even luckier, it took nearly a week before I could get in to see a doctor (or in my case, a nurse practitioner) who said I had a throat that "looks like a piece of really rare blood beefsteak." Oh yay. All I knew is I wanted to curl up into a fetal position on the floor of her office. I got the magic ten-day antibiotic shot (works wonders although my hip hurt for a week), a steroid shot, and some "magic mouth rinse", and off I went.
So, for the week prior to the shot - I pretty much napped the whole time, laid on the couch, read, ate chicken soup, hot tea and lemon (not all together) and felt miserable. Gosh I hate strep.
That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
Truth be told I haven't done much for a while.
You know how you look forward to break so you can relax, and get some things done, and enjoy your family and all that? And you have all these great plans? Well, I did too, although, compared to most people, they were quite tame. Hanging out with Hubby, cleaning out my office, getting organized for 2014, reading, knitting, seeing some movies, some quick day trips, and all sorts of fun things. I was looking forward to this time off for weeks.
And then, lucky me, I got strep throat. And, even luckier, it took nearly a week before I could get in to see a doctor (or in my case, a nurse practitioner) who said I had a throat that "looks like a piece of really rare blood beefsteak." Oh yay. All I knew is I wanted to curl up into a fetal position on the floor of her office. I got the magic ten-day antibiotic shot (works wonders although my hip hurt for a week), a steroid shot, and some "magic mouth rinse", and off I went.
So, for the week prior to the shot - I pretty much napped the whole time, laid on the couch, read, ate chicken soup, hot tea and lemon (not all together) and felt miserable. Gosh I hate strep.
That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
Tuesday, December 10, 2013
Miley They Just Aren't Into You
One of my homeroom girls showed up today sporting a new "Miley Cyrus"-style haircut. She's a bit of a rebel and trying to be a bit of a trend-setter, so it wasn't that surprising.
What was surprising was the response from the rest of the kids.
They HATED it. Absolutely hated it. Choruses of "Oh My God, what did you do?" along with "Are you trying to look like Miley, she's so gross," were some of the nicer comments. It got so bad I told them to hush and if they didn't have anything nice to say then just to keep quiet. Haircut girl didn't seem to mind (she's a bit of snot anyway and can dish out as much as she gets) but I wasn't going to put up with that nonsense.
However, one of the kids said they thought that Haircut girl actually looked kind of cute in that haircut, which was surprising because "Miley is such an ugly dog but you look cute in it." Choruses of agreement abounded. It was then that I decided to do an impromptu survey.
"How many of you like Miley Cyrus?" I asked. Not a hand went up. Not one.
"How many of you can't stand her?" was my second question. Every hand went up.
"So how come you don't like her?" I asked them and was hit with a bunch of comments regarding her acting slutty, sticking her tongue out, trying to act cool but really coming off as pathetic (a word I was impressed this bunch used) and so on. A few admitted that her behavior rather "grossed me out". So, if my homeroom is any indication, she's really falling flat with the 12-14 year old demographic.
Which is surprising, because the media has you think she's quite popular with this group. Perhaps they think she is. However, a few minutes with my homeroom kids will let you know that she's definitely not.
You learn something new every day.
What was surprising was the response from the rest of the kids.
They HATED it. Absolutely hated it. Choruses of "Oh My God, what did you do?" along with "Are you trying to look like Miley, she's so gross," were some of the nicer comments. It got so bad I told them to hush and if they didn't have anything nice to say then just to keep quiet. Haircut girl didn't seem to mind (she's a bit of snot anyway and can dish out as much as she gets) but I wasn't going to put up with that nonsense.
However, one of the kids said they thought that Haircut girl actually looked kind of cute in that haircut, which was surprising because "Miley is such an ugly dog but you look cute in it." Choruses of agreement abounded. It was then that I decided to do an impromptu survey.
"How many of you like Miley Cyrus?" I asked. Not a hand went up. Not one.
"How many of you can't stand her?" was my second question. Every hand went up.
"So how come you don't like her?" I asked them and was hit with a bunch of comments regarding her acting slutty, sticking her tongue out, trying to act cool but really coming off as pathetic (a word I was impressed this bunch used) and so on. A few admitted that her behavior rather "grossed me out". So, if my homeroom is any indication, she's really falling flat with the 12-14 year old demographic.
Which is surprising, because the media has you think she's quite popular with this group. Perhaps they think she is. However, a few minutes with my homeroom kids will let you know that she's definitely not.
You learn something new every day.
Friday, December 06, 2013
Assault With a - Potentially - Deadly Weapon
Honestly, people who don't work in a school have no idea as to the absolutely crazy shit that goes on with these kids during the day. Seriously.
For example, this week we had three sixth grade boys decide to pee on each other. Really. You cannot make this stuff up. Of course, that irritated one of the victims, who promptly threw a punch towards the kid peeing on him. Which is completely understandable.
(I checked. None of these were my kids. Thank God.)
I guess it was apparently quite hysterical to watch these three boys explain to four grown men, our SRO, The Enforcer, and two coaches, what, exactly prompted them to act like such idiots.
The SRO explained to them that he could charge them with assault because they could unknowingly infect another person with a horrifying and deadly disease by peeing on them. This did, apparently, finally get their attention.
The only question remaining, said the SRO, was whether we charge them with a weapon over, or under three inches.
*The three inch measure is what our law uses to guide the punishment for a knife at school.
First Snow Day!
Well, more like a ice day. I'm on my third cup of coffee watching the ice build up on my deck and trees in my yard.
Hoping we don't lose power.
Fortunately they called for the schools to be closed last night, rather than wait until morning, which was nice of them. Those of us who grace the school hallways at oh-dark-thirty every day often have the unpleasant experience of actually already being at school before they cancel for the day. That sucks.
So I have a full tank of gas in my car, the cell phone is on the charger, the Kindle is charged, the heater is running to warm up the house, and I'm ready if we lose power.
At least I know how to make coffee on a grill, if it comes to that.
Sunday, December 01, 2013
A Buzz Worthy Lunch
A few weeks ago, on a surprisingly cold day, the rest if the seventh grade teachers and I were in the teacher lunchroom (right next to the cafeteria) enjoying our all too brief 30 minute duty free lunch. It was a typical lunch until the double door slammed open and in ran Mrs. Cheerful, one of our aides who has the horrid duty of helping with seventh grade lunch.
"I need an administrator here fast!" She shrieked as she dialed the front office. Now that the door was open we could hear a huge commotion coming from the cafeteria. That usually signals a fight, so within a flash, all of us in the middle of our lunch ran into the lunchroom to restore order and break up what sounded like a doozy of a brawl.
Except when we got there, we didn't see any kids fighting.
What we did see were a number of kids screaming and running up and down the aisles between the tables, and other kids throwing food into the air. They weren't throwing the food at other tables of kids but rather up into the air. This was weird. They usually aim at other kids when they start flinging food.
I happened to be standing by The Monitor (the other adult in there trying to keep 300 kids fed and in control every lunch period) and heard her say "I can't believe all this over a wasp."
A wasp? Yes, a wasp.
It took a moment but I finally saw the wasp buzzing around one of the tables which was sending the girls, and some boys, into fits. Some of the boys were throwing food at it, which only made the wasp madder and caused him to buzz and dive bomb the tables. Which caused more hysteria.
Good gracious, this generation needs to get outside more so they can learn to deal with things like insects without going into hysterics.
We finally got them calmed down, sat them back in their seats, and convinced them that throwing things at wasps doesn't improve their mood. At all. Honestly, I felt sorry for the wasp at this point.
What's really weird is that the wasps have had a nest somewhere near the cafeteria for several weeks now, and that wasps have been showing up at lunch all that time. However, apparently both the 8th grade and the 6th grade kids don't lose their minds when they see a wasp. Just the 7th grade kids do.
Which tells you a lot about the character traits of seventh graders.
Wednesday, November 13, 2013
Bad Blogger
Yeah well I'm not being very consistent here. Sorry about that. I'm not sure what it is, but none of us seem to have the spare time we did in years past.
Enough apologies.
So a few weeks ago the Guidance Guy sent out an email about these cushions they had purchased that were supposed to help kids, particularly those with ADHD, focus. They are made of plastic, somewhat semi-inflated, with teeth on the side you place on the chair. Basically you give them to a kid, they use it on their seat, and they focus more. I actually tried it myself and it is nearly impossible to slouch with this thing on your chair. You do have to wiggle a tiny bit all the time to stay somewhat balanced, and you tend to lean forward.
Well I have some real live wire kids this year so I thought is give it a try. Guidance was basically looking for some so us to try these and get data on the kids to see if there was any change in behavior and academics. I sent an email but was rebuffed at first as they wanted to give them to team leaders first and have them used through a team so they could follow a kid throughout the day. Since I'm teaching two grades this year, I'm not tied to a team (which has its pluses and minuses.)
Except very few team leaders seemed interested.
So lucky me got one of these cushions to use and see how they work.
I basically picked one kid in each class and told them that we were doing an experiment to see if these cushions helped them concentrate more. What I wasn't counting on was that all the kids decided that they wanted to be the "tester" so I'm having to rotate each week.
But here is the amazing thing. These things work like a charm.
Honestly after the first day I was bowled over by these things. Kids who never stayed in their seats are sitting down and working. They aren't tapping pencils. They aren't digging through their papers and fiddling. They are WORKING. It is just amazing. I talked with the few other teachers that were trying these and they had the same results.
I want a class set now.
P.S. Someone asked for a picture, so here's the link to Amazon that our guidance sent us.
Magic Seat Cushions
Be sure to read some of the comments from readers who also had experiences with these.
P.S. Someone asked for a picture, so here's the link to Amazon that our guidance sent us.
Magic Seat Cushions
Be sure to read some of the comments from readers who also had experiences with these.
Monday, September 30, 2013
Watching Their Heads Explode
Okay. I know I said I would be posting more but this is turning into One Hell of a Year. Used to be you could count on one hand the number of teachers who were at school an hour early and who left after five. Now it's the bulk of us. It's all about bringing up the test scores and revamping just about everything we do.
Mrs. Eagle, Mrs, Angora and I are basically ripping apart our curriculum and rebuilding it to make it more rigorous and to raise expectations. However, it takes a lot of time to do that. Friday evenings we're lucky if we leave by eight. At least we enjoy working with each other.
However today I had a great deal of fun at my students' expense. For several years I have done a weekly email to parents, usually on Friday afternoon, where I list what we are doing in the week ahead. It works out pretty well except when things change. And I have noticed this year that we are making more adjustments to our plans than usual. So I needed an alternative.
One of our new teachers told me about a website called www.remind101.com that sends out text alerts. It protects both the teacher and the students' privacy, you can schedule the alerts for when you want them to go out, and they can even be sent via email if so desired. I was hooked. (No, I don't work for them.)
I sent out the notice in my parent email on Friday, and then today I sent home the sign up information for parents and kids to sign up. However, I wanted as many kids signed up as possible so I blew their minds when I told them to get out their phones, turn them on, and subscribe to the text alerts.
I swear you should have heard the gasps in the room.
"Is this a trick? Are we going to get in trouble?" And so on. They were completely freaked out.
I loved it.
They finally figured out that this was indeed a legitimate request and slowly the phones came out, were clicked on, and then they started to sign up.
The selling point? It wasn't getting notices about tests or homework. Oh no. It was me telling them that I would text them the night before if they needed their book in class or not.
Anything to keep from carrying their book. Wimps.
Monday, September 02, 2013
Things I Learned This Week
When teaching two different grade levels, DO NOT plan a lab activity for both grade levels on the same day.
Why didn't I realize I did this?
Why didn't I realize I did this?
It's September and We're Already Exhausted
Oh my.
I really intended to blog a lot more this year, but there just hasn't been the time. I'm getting to school at 6:00 and leaving some nights at 7:00, so it's been a matter of eating, grading, and passing out in bed.
Why?
Scores weren't high enough school wide so we're having to revamp lessons. We're also being told to take more class grades and more homework grades. We're having to take a lot of looks at a lot of data to figure out what to do with our kids to - you got it - raise test scores. All in all, it means a lot of time spent outside of the actual teaching.
On the good side, at least Mrs. Eagle, Mrs. Angora and I have a lot of fun together. Fridays are turning into "Friday Planning Parties" where we bring snacks and work together in Mrs. Angora's room, with a few other teachers, mostly 8th grade teachers as they're down the hall, joining us. It's a great way to kick around strategies and come up with some good ideas. And it's fun, although perhaps fattening.
I am hoping that things settle down soon...in the meantime, some highlights.
The Bully Parent showed up for an IEP meeting and was somewhat pleasant and really nice to me since I sent her a post card about how organized her daughter's locker was. She is now out of my class (still in homeroom) and moved to inclusion science so I don't have to deal with her academically. I suspect she's one of those people who hide behind the keyboard.
Open House was fun. Met a lot of parents but the best part is seeing kids I used to have. One is a senior and looking to go to the Air Force Academy. Another is a junior and is going to major in chemical engineering. The fact that he squeaked by 7th grade and DROVE US CRAZY with his behavior, makes this turnaround all the sweeter. He's a tall, delightful young man and gave me the biggest hug. It's nice to see a kid who drove you nuts come back and tell you that they did listen - a little - and are going to turn out okay.
I spent the Labor Day weekend working on lessons and grading papers but hubby and I did take a day trip to Paducah, Kentucky to the American Quilt Museum to see an exhibit on Civil War quilts. Awesome display but the best part was hanging with my guy.
Knitting and Crochet club starts tomorrow. I haven't had time to knit since school starts so this may be the only chance I get.
I really intended to blog a lot more this year, but there just hasn't been the time. I'm getting to school at 6:00 and leaving some nights at 7:00, so it's been a matter of eating, grading, and passing out in bed.
Why?
Scores weren't high enough school wide so we're having to revamp lessons. We're also being told to take more class grades and more homework grades. We're having to take a lot of looks at a lot of data to figure out what to do with our kids to - you got it - raise test scores. All in all, it means a lot of time spent outside of the actual teaching.
On the good side, at least Mrs. Eagle, Mrs. Angora and I have a lot of fun together. Fridays are turning into "Friday Planning Parties" where we bring snacks and work together in Mrs. Angora's room, with a few other teachers, mostly 8th grade teachers as they're down the hall, joining us. It's a great way to kick around strategies and come up with some good ideas. And it's fun, although perhaps fattening.
I am hoping that things settle down soon...in the meantime, some highlights.
The Bully Parent showed up for an IEP meeting and was somewhat pleasant and really nice to me since I sent her a post card about how organized her daughter's locker was. She is now out of my class (still in homeroom) and moved to inclusion science so I don't have to deal with her academically. I suspect she's one of those people who hide behind the keyboard.
Open House was fun. Met a lot of parents but the best part is seeing kids I used to have. One is a senior and looking to go to the Air Force Academy. Another is a junior and is going to major in chemical engineering. The fact that he squeaked by 7th grade and DROVE US CRAZY with his behavior, makes this turnaround all the sweeter. He's a tall, delightful young man and gave me the biggest hug. It's nice to see a kid who drove you nuts come back and tell you that they did listen - a little - and are going to turn out okay.
I spent the Labor Day weekend working on lessons and grading papers but hubby and I did take a day trip to Paducah, Kentucky to the American Quilt Museum to see an exhibit on Civil War quilts. Awesome display but the best part was hanging with my guy.
Knitting and Crochet club starts tomorrow. I haven't had time to knit since school starts so this may be the only chance I get.
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