We've been working on major research projects for the last several weeks and have accordingly spent a lot of time in our school library. The library is conveniently located right across the hall from my room, so it's easy for me to run back and forth if needed. As we were heading over today, I realized that I'd forgotten a list of topics that I needed so I turned around to go grab it. It took a couple of minutes of searching before I found it and went back to the library.When I entered, one of my boys came running up, looking alarmed. He grabbed my arm and hissed, "Ms. Teachin', you almost got scared, but that lady in brown got it instead!"Though I was not at my best today (new cold....bleah), this still seemed somewhat nonsensical. "What?""I was hiding behind the door and I was going to scare you and I heard you coming and I jumped out and went, 'Boo!' but then it was that lady instead!"I looked around. Another teacher's class was in there too, with a sub, and the sub was wearing brown. He continued, "Ohhhhhhh, it was so embarrassing! She was like, 'Ahhhhhh!' and she jumped back and went like this," and he threw his hands up to demonstrate.I started laughing. "Guess it serves you right for trying to scare me!"He nodded solemnly. "Oh, it does. Next time I'll make sure it's you first." I guess I better be ready!(Image credit to GVician0)
During one of my planning periods today, I was sitting on the couch in my room, grading. I'd taken off my shoes so I could sit crosslegged. At the end of the period, I got up to put stuff away and get myself back together.....and one of my shoes was gone. At first I thought I'd just kicked it under the couch. But a quick peek revealed that nothing was under there except maybe some dust bunnies. I searched for a minute - then turned to the four boys who were in my room catching up on work. "Okay, where is it?" "Where's what?""My shoe. Where is it?"They looked at each other, a veritable tableau of wide-eyed innocence. Denials spilled out, one over the other, convincing, confused, constant.I didn't care. I stood in the doorway. "None of you are leaving till I get my shoe back." The bell rang. They started to walk to the door. I didn't move. They stopped. High noon at the OK Corral and no one was giving an inch. A tumbleweed rolled past in the hall (okay, maybe a student ambled by - kind of the same thing), but I didn't even blink. In these situations, you can't even think about backing down or you've already lost. Finally the standoff ended when Drama King grabbed a box. "Oh, maybe your shoe's in here." He flung the lid off. And there it was. Two and a half more weeks. I can survive for two and a half more weeks, right? I don't even have to keep my eye on the prize - just my shoes on my feet.(Image credit to gamillos)
I did something today. Gave an ultimatum. And I don't know if it was the right choice. I need you guys to tell me if I messed up.I've written about Drama King a few times recently:Drama King has been somewhat....difficult this year; he's feeling pretty burnt out on school and he's not getting a lot of work done. He's supposed to stay after school to catch up on his work and it happens now and again, but not with any regularity.
Today was another day he was supposed to stay, and OH he did not want to. And I get that, I really do - it's been a long day, he's tired, who wants to do more work after? But he doesn't get it done in class and he doesn't get it done at home and I don't know what else to do. So he was all whiny about staying. And I told him that it was his choice and he could do whatever he wanted, but I gave him the serious unhappy-with-your-choices face, and he was like, "See? Now you're all mad!"And I did the whole teacher, "I'm not mad, but yeah, I'm disappointed in you," spiel, and we went round and round on the whole thing, and it ended with him PROMISING that he would get a piece of writing done. And he pinky promised, which is something he usually doesn't take lightly (as juvenile as I feel doing it, kids seem to respond to it and mean it). But at first I wouldn't do it, because I told him that I didn't believe him. I finally agreed, but I told him that this was it - that if he broke this promise, that the trust was broken forever.At that he wavered. "Like really forever? Like you won't trust me again?""Probably not, no. You've said you were going to do things too many times and not followed through. I'm tired of it. I'm done."He thought for a moment, and then he held his pinky out, and promised. I'm not sure - should I have told him that? I THINK it was the right thing, I think he needs to know that promises aren't something you can make lightly, but.....I don't know, I guess I'm just sad because I don't think he's going to come through, and it's going to break my heart a little tomorrow. Sigh.(Image credit to KaylaDavis)
Sweet Child o' Mine came in after school today. He wanted to use a computer to play a game; I said he could once he finished a science lab that I've been holding for him. He hemmed and hawed a bit, then sat down and got to work. We chatted a bit as he worked and I graded. At one point, he said, "Do they have teachers like you at Local High School?"
"I'm sure they do," I replied.
"Because maybe you could just go teach there."
I told him I probably couldn't (honestly, I'm lucky to have a job next year), but that I really appreciated that and that I'd keep an eye on the job postings just in case. He nodded. A few minutes later, he asked, "So.....would it be okay if I came back once I'm in LHS and you could still help me with my homework sometimes?"
"Of course it would," I said.I don't imagine he'll ever come back for that, not actually...but how sweet that he asked.
And even more - how amazing that he's planning on doing homework in high school.(Image credit to laffy4k)
A student I adore sent me this email today:Hi Ms. Teachin' -
I'm going to be leaving the school to live with my dad. I know it would be better if I just waited to the end of the school year but that probably wont happen. I just wanted to thank you for all of the support you gave me, it means a lot to me. Hopefully I'll be able to see you again but if I don't, Bye.Apparently she ditched one day last week, and her mom decided she was done; washed her hands of her daughter. Her beautiful, intelligent, hard-working, sweet, amazing daughter, who sometimes makes mistakes since she's, you know, a KID. Sigh.Although I think living with her dad will be better for her (she's a lot happier when she interacts with her dad and much more nervous around her mom), I'm so sad that it's happening so close to the end of her last year in the school. It's just one more month - I'm really hoping she'll be able to find transportation back (that's the issue apparently) for such a short time frame. I emailed her back right away to say how much I'd miss her and how much I hope it works out....she's a fabulous, fabulous, fabulous kid who really will change the world.
This is what's hardest for me about my school, bar none - the mobility. It comes with the poverty, I get that, but it's so heartbreaking to watch kids I love leave....and it happens all the time. The Charmer. DC. BB Bob. The Eyeliner Queen. The Natural Athlete. Slick. The Goofball. Kids I adore, kids I worked so hard to reach, kids who learned and grew and changed and were the better for having been in my class (at least mostly)....and they're all gone. And I'll probably never see most of them again.
I have to believe that at least some of the changes are for the best, and that they'll be okay no matter what (and they will, they will, I know that), and that they did learn something in my class, and that they end up okay. But it's hard to watch them leave and know it might be the last time.
They're good kids. They deserve the best. They deserve to be in good situations and I hope they are, I hope they're in better situations than before, I hope they find some stability and happiness.
But I miss them.
I hope she keeps in touch.
(Image credit to Eisenheim.)
I used my relationship with a student the other day to try to change his behavior in someone else's class.
It's the first time I've done this explicitly. Sure, I've talked to kids before to try to get them to change things, and sometimes it's worked and sometimes it hasn't. It's a bit of a sensitive issue for some teachers, because what it means is that I have a better relationship with that student than they do, and I know a few of my colleagues feel sort of bad about that, and I try to be careful with that. I go to other teachers for help when I know a kid who performs well for them is being a pain for me, but since relationships are one of my strong points, it doesn't happen with every teacher. And so I try to step in only if it's a kid I'm actively mentoring, or if a teacher requests the help.
This one was both. My pal Sweet Child o' Mine is hugely obnoxious in one of his electives. He doesn't like the class, he doesn't like the teacher, and it's the last period of the day so he's just kinda done anyway.
The teacher is in her first year. She tries really hard and she cares about the kids and their success, but she's new and she's struggling with her classroom management and her student interactions, and it's been a tough year for her.
A while ago, she asked me for help. I'm on my building's leadership team because I facilitate our PBS stuff, and she asked to come observe one of my classes and if I'd observe hers. She observed me and I observed her other 8th grade class and offered some thoughts, but I haven't done the one with SCoM yet.
Apparently Wednesday he was terrible. Rude, refused to work, disruptive to other students (with whom he is friends, but still). Thus Thursday he was supposed to go to her for detention. He went to my room instead.
She asked me if she could go get him (I was still in the cafeteria talking to a colleague) and I said of course.It didn't go well.
When she told him to go, apparently he said, "When I'm finished eating." She doesn't have the power to compel him to go because he doesn't respect her, and I don't think she knew what to do, and she came back to the cafeteria practically in tears because of it. And I felt so bad for her.
I tried to help. Did she want me to send him down? No, because now she needed time to plan (and I think she didn't want to deal with him after that, for which I don't blame her). Did she want me to come down during his class and the three of us could talk? No...she wasn't sure if she'd have time when the other kids were working independently enough to step outside. Did she want me to come down at the end of the day and we could talk then? No to that too. She just needed some time to think. I said of course, and that's when I offered to use the relationship. I told her he wouldn't be coming to my room for lunch until his behavior improved in her class. She said okay, but I don't think she thought it would make a difference; nothing else has.
When I got back to my room, I pulled SCoM out to the hall. "SCoM, do you treat me with respect?" He said yeah. "Do you treat every teacher with respect?" Yeah again. I persisted. "Do you treat Ms. Elective with respect?"
"....Sometimes."
"Right. But not always. Did you treat her with respect when she came up just now?" "I just asked if I could wait till I was finished eating." "Did you ASK her or did you TELL her?"
He thought briefly. "I think I asked....I don't know."
"Should you have asked or should you have just gone?"
"...I should've gone."
"Yup." I looked at him. "SCoM, you like eating lunch in my room, right? You like that I help you with your work? You like that I give you snacks?" He nodded to each. "As of right now, all that's done. Because right now I don't respect YOU." SCoM looked surprised, but I continued. "I don't respect someone who would be as rude to another human being as you are to her. You treat her badly, and I don't want to be friends with someone who would do that to someone else. So until your behavior in her class changes to be the type of student I know you can be, you and I are not friends. Understood?" He nodded again. "Do you know what I'm talking about? Do you know the problems with your behavior and what you need to do differently?"
"Yeah. I know."
"Then do it." I went back into the room, feeling kind of terrible. I don't like doing this kind of stuff, but no other consequences seem to matter to him (including referrals, detentions, suspensions....), and maybe this one would. He shuffled back in after me. We had maybe a minute left before lunch was over. When the bell rang, I told him to go to class and not be late (he's also tardy to his classes all the time). He nodded, smiling. I added that I didn't think it was funny to be late all the time, and he protested that he didn't either, and stopped smiling. He left, and I went about my business for the next two hours.
After school, he came back to my room. "Ms. Teachin', I was good in class today.""Really good or just a little better?"
"Really good." "Okay, SCoM. I'm glad to hear that. I'll check in with Ms. Elective to see if that's true." I smiled at him, and he smiled back and left.
When I checked, it was true; she said that his behavior was enough better that she'd be happy if it was that way every day.
This gives me some ideas for how to change things at my school which I'm mulling over now; I'll post about them eventually. But for now, I'm just glad that the situation's better for everyone involved.
(Image credit to Eye of Einstein)
Sometimes I just don't know what to say.I know; that's hard to believe. I am among the chattiest of Cathys, as you can all tell from my remarkably long-winded posts. And usually I'm just fine; I'm lucky enough to process quickly and so I can easily come up with replies to just about anything.Note the "just about."Because....I'm having a hard time with something.I mentioned the other day that my student assistant, Bump It, is probably getting expelled. It's not definite yet, but it's likely - we run a three strikes kinda program for major offenses, and she fulfilled number three a couple of weeks ago (I'm not going to say anymore about why, just for confidentiality, even though this is already fairly anonymous). I heard about it from kids the next day, and was so sad; she's been my assistant since mid-October, which is when she transferred back to my school from the one she'd started at this year.I'd had Bump It in 6th grade. Though she had some anger management and impulse control issues, they never came out in my classroom, so I was happy to try to mentor her when she returned. But in two thirds of the year, she never really opened up. She'd talk to me about stuff if I pushed, but only things I already knew about; maybe twice did she bring up anything new. But she was doing better than last year: grades, attendance, everything. I thought maybe she was growing up, and I was SO happy to see it.And then. This.A few days ago, a friend of Bump It's ran up to me and handed me a letter. I started to read it, but stopped halfway through; I knew from the first chunk that it would make me cry, and I couldn't do that before class. Later, I took the time to read it carefully, and I was right about the tears.She feels hopeless. She's worried she'll never amount to anything. This has made her have goals - she wants to go to college, make something of herself, make her parents proud of her. That last part is especially important: right now, they think that she'll never amount to anything. Or at least that's what they tell her. (Most of my kids have awesome parents. But some make me sad.) She told me that the speeches I used to give her did make a difference, and she referenced a time that I asked her if she wanted to go to college. I don't actually remember this conversation, but apparently she said no, she didn't. And now she does, and she doesn't think she'll be able to.I've been working on a reply. Here's what I've got so far.Dear Bump It,
Thank you so much for your letter; I was so glad to hear from you. It made me really sad when I learned that you'd xxxxxxxxxxx, because you know I think you're so much more than that. I'm so sorry you're going through such a difficult time right now; you made a really bad choice and now you have to deal with the consequences (that's part of life), but what I want you to remember is that it was one choice, and it does not define who you are.
Bump It, you DO matter. You WILL be able to succeed. I'm so happy to hear that you want to go to college, because you're smart and capable, and you can do wonderful things with your life. Yes, you made a mistake. We all have. It doesn't end things for you.
Someone told me something once that has stuck with me ever since. She said, "Everyone makes mistakes. It's what we do after them that counts." I really believe that. None of us are perfect; we all mess up. It's what we do AFTER we mess up that defines who we are. You have an opportunity here to choose who you want to be, what direction you want to go. And you know the direction you want to go, and you can do it.
Whatever happens now, remember that this is just one part of your life, just one little part. It won't always be easy, and I know that. I know it feels huge right now - I know it's everything right now. But life goes on, and you will grow up, and things will get better. It might not help to hear that because it doesn't really feel real to you right now. Try to remember it, though, and try to focus on your goals for your future.
I want you to know that I will always be here for you and I will always believe in you. If you need help with something, call me. If you have a question, call me. If you want to just talk about life, call me. I believe in you. Believe in yourself.
Your friend,
Ms. Teachin'
What do you think? Okay? Lame? Should I change stuff?
(Image credit to Pink Sherbet Photography)
On a field trip today, Honey, the girl who asked if she could call me Mom, was apparently unaware that I was walking nearby as we were trudging up a hill to join a group. We're having beautiful weather here, but that meant that we were all baking in the sun as we went. One of her friends called back to her to hurry up; she responded with, "F---, n---a, I don't wanna f---in' run," as she flounced along the road.I was, like, ten feet away.I promptly called her out on her choice of phrasing. She was appropriately horrified that I'd heard her and quite apologetic, but that didn't seem sufficient to me in this particular case. I'm not big on detentions or referrals with cursing; they just don't usually seem effective. So I decided a language consequence would match a language infraction quite nicely. "If you're going to use language like that when we're out in public, I don't want you calling me Mom anymore. You're done with it.""But ---""Nope. Done."She tried to argue again and I told her that I wasn't discussing this then and we needed to get with the group. I figured later I'd catch her and we'd have a conversation about appropriate language for public and how it might offend others and how it makes her look bad....but I never got a chance. Honey found me."Ms. Teachin', I want to apologize for what I said before. It was rude and inappropriate and I shouldn't have said it, and I'm really sorry. And I won't do it again." She stood with her head hanging contritely."Thank you, Honey. I appreciate that.""You're welcome. So......" She glanced up from under the curtain of hair shielding her face. ".....does that mean I can call you Mom again?"I laughed and said that she could, as long as she kept the rest of her language within my expectations for decorum. I don't know if it will last, but I like it as a new consequence for now....(Image credit to circo de invierno)
"Honestly?""Yeah. Honestly."---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Last year, one of my best students was Miss Enthusiasm. She's a brilliant writer and was always super engaged and super awesome in my class. Now, this was true in MY class - not every class. For some reason, she connected with me in a way that she didn't connect with all of her teachers, and that was reflected in her classroom performance. This year, she and I have stayed pretty close, and have recently gotten closer. She's started volunteering to help me in my room on Tuesdays after school (she was the other kid there during Tuesday's awkwardness) and she sort of does some work and we chat and she gets some attention that she clearly needs. A few days ago, she asked if she could become my student assistant; I had one, actually a friend of Miss Enthusiasm's, as a mentoring thing, but she's probably getting expelled (another post - I'm not ready to write that one yet). So I could use a new one, and I think it might be useful for Miss Enthusiasm. Like I said, she was a rock star for me, but that's not true of every class, and since she respects and admires me, she doesn't like it when I'm disappointed in her behavior. Anyway, today after school we went to talk to her counselor about it. I'd already broached the subject and her counselor had been reluctant since it's so close to the end of the year, which frustrated ME. We were trying again.The counselor was in a meeting when we arrived, and while we were waiting, I asked ME, "So...why DO you want to be my student assistant anyway?" I figured the practice answering wouldn't hurt.She thought for a moment. "Honestly?""Yeah, honestly.""Because....being around you makes me feel good. You're always happy, always positive. I like that about you. Sometimes I'm having a bad day at school and I'm all upset, and then I hear your voice, and then I'm like, 'Aw, Ms. Teachin'!' And I just....feel better."It's hard to know what to say to a compliment that big. It filled all of me, and all I could respond with was, "Well....that does seem like a good reason." I paused. "And....thanks."She smiled. We kept waiting. Nothing had really changed. But I will never forget this afternoon.
I've figured it out. The world likes me blogging. I mean, it must. Because why else would I have a day like today if not to write about it? When your day starts with one of your kids getting hit by a car and ends with a student peeing on your floor, there's gotta be some sort of higher meaning, right?I'll begin at the beginning.Grins came into my room this morning to hang out. He happened to be the only one in there, and we were chatting about this and that as I prepared for the day. Ninjas, his grades, why permanent markers are banned at school....and then he tossed in, "I got hit by a car this morning, Ms. Teachin'."I looked at him. "What?""I got hit by a car.""Hit. Like, actually hit. Like.....HIT. BY A CAR." He nodded. "Did it STOP????" Shook his head. "Did you report this????" Again, negative. Well, that was just great."Honey, I need to have you go to the nurse to get checked out ---""What??? No! I'm fine!"I stopped him. "I hope you're fine, but I need to make sure. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if you had internal bleeding and died ---""Don't you think I would know if I had internal bleeding? I'm fine!""Grins, this is non-negotiable. I HAVE to report this. C'mon." We walked down to the office, he arguing with me the whole way, trying to talk me out of it, telling me that he was going to get in trouble, that his dad would think he was dumb, that he really was fiiiiiiine....I felt terrible.And how ridiculous that I feel terrible for reporting that a child got hit by a car that then drove away. But I do, because he was so upset.So that colored the first hour or so of my day; this was right before first period, and I just felt so terrifically guilty about the whole thing that I was awfully quiet and serious during class (I know, because several kids asked me what was wrong). Eventually, though, I was able to put it out of my mind and refocus on teaching. And the rest of the day passed essentially uneventfully (though the Antagonizer did a surprisingly large amount of work - it was a pleasant change). Then. After school.One of my kids, Stephanie Meyer's Biggest Fan, had asked me if she could stay after. She was absent yesterday so I assumed she just wanted some time/space to do her work; we hadn't done anything new, just continued several ongoing projects so it didn't require any guidance and I was working on my own stuff. Another girl was in my room helping me with some clerical work; she likes to be useful and she likes to have personal attention, and so she volunteers with me once a week and we chat and she does this and that. So all three of us were talking, and somehow Twilight came up (because it always does in conversations with SMBF), and I asked if they'd seen the Twilight/Buffy mashup (which, if you haven't, it's brilliant - go watch it immediately and revel in how much more badass and awesome Buffy is than creepy creepy Edward). They hadn't, so we watched it, me sitting at my desk and the girls standing to the side. SMBF started moving oddly as she was watching - it kind of looked like the pee dance (you know the one) but I thought, hey, she's in 8th grade, it's after school, if she needs to go, she'll go. Well, she did.But not the way I would have hoped.Suddenly I heard a distinctive splashing noise. I looked over and....yep. Yellow puddle forming. I said, "You can go to the bathroom...." because she was just standing there, peeing.She said, "I can't." What that meant, I got nothin' (maybe that she couldn't move right then?), but I was in shock, so I sat there for another 30 seconds or so while the video ended and she continued. Finally it finished and I said, "Why don't you go to the bathroom." As she started out the door, SMBF stopped and said that her doctor had told her this might happen. And then she went. And I looked at the other student and said that I'd appreciate it if she wouldn't tell anyone, which she immediately agreed to, and then I went to find a custodian, and then to check on SMBF. She refused a pair of school dress-code sweats; she'd been wearing a skirt so she just took off her tights and said she was fine. She said this had started yesterday, and the doctor said to wait and see what happened; I suggested she have her parents call the school so all her teachers know that if she asks to go, she needs to go RIGHT THEN. After she left, I emailed my AP, the counselor, and the school nurse because this was just so weird; it seems like something must be going on, medically or emotionally, for something like this to happen, and I'm certainly not equipped to deal with the situation. I will say that SMBF seemed remarkable unphased by the whole thing - at her age, I'd've been in tears, and calling my mom to insist on transferring schools immediately. I'll check in with her tomorrow after I get some guidance on what to say.It was a hell of a day. (Image credit to jomilo75)
You know, one of the things I enjoy about my job is that it's always surprising. Whatever else it is, it's always surprising.When I was in the office at one point today, another staff member stopped me. She pulled me into an empty room and closed the door. I had no idea why, but her daughter is a student of mine, so I was starting wonder if she was upset about something.She looked at me for a moment. "Okay. Athleta has been bugging me to ask you this. She says you've had this glow, and you've been really happy, and --"And I knew exactly where she was going with this. "Nope. Not pregnant." She smiled. "Okay, just wondering. She's been bugging me to ask you for days so I thought I would. She just keeps saying that you're glowing and so happy and you've been wearing skirts."Really? Because I'm happy and wearing seasonally-appropriate clothing, I'm knocked up? "I'm happy because I like my job and I'm wearing skirts because of the weather! That's so funny she asked that." I told the mom my story from Friday and we both chuckled. "So now you know," I finished. "Wait - don't tell Athleta, okay? I'm going to mess with her now." Hey, she didn't ask me herself, she made her mom do it - she deserves a little prank. Her mom agreed not to tell and I started plotting. Athleta usually comes into my room to hang out before school. Assuming she does that tomorrow, at some point while we're chatting, I'll suddenly sit down with my hand on my face. After a brief pause, I'll say something like, "Sorry. I just haven't been feeling too well in the mornings some days." Then I'm going to start talking about a name that someone mentions. I'll muse aloud, "XXXXX....that's a really pretty name. I like that." And then I'll go write it down on a piece of paper at my desk. I even got another teacher to help. She's going to come in and say that she just heard and congrats! And I'll thank her, and then if a kid asks, I'll say that I won this thing, being purposely vague. I think it's gonna be hilarious. We'll see how long it takes before Athleta says something or gets someone else to.....(Image credit to Daquella manera)
The field trip that was causing me so many concerns was today. In general we had a fabulous time; all but one of the kids showed, which for a Saturday ain't too bad. One had to leave early due to an injury from a few days ago, and another went home sick, which was a shame for him (and for me, because I missed out on an hour and a half of the conference as I waited (...and waited...and waited) with him for a parent to show up). Three of my darlings got into moderate trouble; it almost became real trouble, but something good happened. They had skipped out on one of the conference sessions and texted me to see if that was okay. It wasn't, and I called them to find out where they were so I could go discuss it with them in person; as I hung up, I heard Drama King say to the other two, "I think she's mad." When I got to them, I started with, "I'm not mad.""Yes you arrrrrrrrrrre, Miss!" I stopped them. "I'm not mad. But I AM disappointed in you. I'm not going to tell you that you have to go back into the session; you can make your own choices. But you should know that if you don't go back to the sessions, you're banned from my room for the rest of the year [all three eat lunch in my room almost every day]." And then I waited.Grins (he's one of those kids who smiles all the time, even when he's in trouble - he often gets in more trouble for it) asked, "If we go back in, will you still be disappointed in us?"I shook my head. "Nope. If you go back in, the slate is wiped clean and we're good, assuming the rest of the day goes well." For a moment, no one said anything. Then Grins spoke up. "I don't want to be banned from the room....but I really don't want Ms. Teachin' to be disappointed in me. I'm going back in." He looked at his friends, and after a moment, they agreed. They got up, and went back. Were they perfect the rest of the day? No. But they tried. They tried hard. And they did fairly well. It's good to be respected....or maybe just to have a carrot that you can use as a stick when needed. Another highlight of the day came when one of my kids told me I would not be working at my school next year because I'd be moving to the high school to teach her there (adorable), and then later asking if I could adopt her because I'm so fun. I declined, so she asked if she could call me Mom. I said she could call me that, but I might not realize to answer.....I was immediately Mom or Momma T (for Teachin', of course) for the rest of the day to four of them. Another one won a book that she didn't want, so she said I could have it for my classroom library but not yet because she has to do something to it first, which turned out to mean sign it to me. :)And three of my seventh graders (kids I had last year) agreed that while they really like all the 8th grade Language Arts teachers, they're going to have a fit if they don't get me next year. They planned it out: where to lie down, how to kick and hit their fists at the same time, just what they would say (along the lines of "It's not faaaaaaaaair! I want Ms. Teeeeeeeeeachin'! NONONONONONO!"). Clearly they will not actually do this, because if they even try it, I'll kill 'em, but it was sweet. They are so cute. I love my kids. To answer my title's question? Definitely.
Today's high was in the mid 70s. Everything's greening up and daffodils and crocuses are popping up all over the place. My local park is jammed after work; while I was running yesterday (week 1 day 3 of Couch to 5k - I can feel myself improving!), I saw two girls actually lying out in bikinis. I have spring fever, and baaaaaad. So last night I went and got my first pedicure of the season, and today I wore a cute new dress that I picked up in Beijing.Now, I am not always the fanciest dressed teacher around. I wear jeans on our school pride days (because my school pride shirts are all pretty casual - hoodies and t-shirts and the like) and often one other day as well, and I wear a skirt maybe once every three or four weeks. Pants are easier when I end up sitting on the floor to conference with kids, y'know?Thus I expected a few comments about my fancy-schmanciness today. And I got them. Most were very positive."Ms. Teachin', you look so cute!""Ms. Teachin', that's such a pretty dress!""I love your outfit, Ms. Teachin'!"Those were my girls. My boys were less sure what to say.Sweet Child o' Mine went with, "Ms. Teachin's wearing a dress?" Which I said was not the MOST complimentary thing I'd ever heard, so a friend of his countered with, "You look like a flower that's just....uh.....starting to.....uh......you look like a flower." I said that was better; this is a kid who said a few weeks ago that I'm like a second mom to him, so I thought it was a sweet effort. My favorite, though, had to be the student who came up to me after class. He looked at me and said, "Ms. Teachin', I'm not trying to be rude, but that dress kind of makes you look pregnant." Yep. JUST what you want to hear about your cute new and, yes, empire-waisted summer dress. I pointed out that just because you're not trying to be rude doesn't mean you aren't still being it.He nodded, and kept staring skeptically at my midriff. "I'm just saying that's what it looks like....""No, honey, I'm not pregnant. I'll keep you posted, though."Just then one of my girls came in for the next class and gasped. "Oh, Ms. Teachin'! You look so nice today!" I called to the boy, "THAT'S what you say, my friend. THAT'S what you tell someone."I don't think the dress makes me look pregnant; I can see where he got that, and it's not the most body-flattering silhouette, but since I'm not looking to impress a bunch of teenagers with my figure, I'm good with that. I will say, though, I did go ask a friend for reassurance. She said I looked very cute and not to worry. Might not wear that dress again to school, though.(Image credit to housingworksauctions - my dress looks NOTHING like this one, except for a similar waist-line)
On Wednesday at lunch, I had a student working in my room. He was one of mine before the change, but no more. A few weeks back, though, I offered to help him bring his grades up so he'd be eligible for basketball and he took me up on it. I was delighted, because he's a really sweet kid, but not much of a student. Since then, Sweet Child o' Mine's been coming in every day at lunch to work. Which sounds great....but since I have ten or so other kids who come in just to hang out, and since he's super easily distracted, the work has gone slooooooooooowly. But Thursday was the end of the trimester, and thus homeboy's last chance to finish this particular paper and avoid failing for the tri. Which I pointed out to him, and suggested he come after school to finish. He agreed, and trotted merrily off at the end of lunch. After school came. SCoM came in with a friend who'd left his backpack in my room. I pointed out to SCoM that he was supposed to be writing, so he left his backpack and ran out to tell his mom he'd be home later, and then came back in to finish his paper. Which he did really a pretty solid job on, considering how much time he spends messing around in class rather than actually doing any work. Except. That second part never happened. In fact, nothing after leaving his backpack happened. He just never came back. And, oh, was I pissed. Thursday he trotted in to say hi. I told him we'd talk at lunch. He looked confused. I pointed to the backpack and asked him why it was still here. "Ohhhhh....I forgot to come back in." "Yep. We'll talk later." At lunch, I laid it out for him. I'd been working hard to help him, but I didn't see much return. He couldn't even be bothered to come back in to tell me he was leaving - why should I trust him? Why should I stand up for him to other teachers? Why should I have any faith in him at all?SCoM looked crestfallen. He apologized profusely; he'd gotten out there and the gym teacher had challenged him to a game of one-on-one, and afterward he'd just forgotten and walked home. He was really sorry, he really appreciated the help I'd been giving him, he'd work hard today and would come after school too. Okay, I shrugged. His choice. Show or don't, it was his call.He showed. He worked. He got his paper done, and did a pretty damn good job on it, for him. And I couldn't understand why this was so hard. Why DC struggled so much last year to finish his classwork. Why so many of them just don't do the bare minimum of things that we as teachers expect. And then I realized something....Which I will explain tomorrow.
Yesterday in class, about five minutes before the end of the period, one of my boys (Drama King) very blatantly pulled out a piece of paper and started scribbling on it. He passed it to his neighbor, who dramatically scrawled back. Et cetera.
I ignored. I figured they were writing something ridiculous - something about liking pizza, or the Superbowl, or any number of other dumb things that 8th grade boys can write about. Didn't need to get involved. Until.
At the end of class, Drama King "accidentally" threw the note on the ground in front of me. "Oh no! I hope Ms. Teachin' doesn't notice our note!" he cracked."Seriously," Brilliant One, his partner-in-crime, agreed. "I really hope she doesn't pick it up and read it. That would be terrible."
"Yeah, way embarrassing. Boy, I hope she doesn't get it."
They were trying so hard; I had to play my part. So I picked up the note and read.
Drama King: Ms. Teachin' is a great teacher!
Brilliant One: I know! She's like one of the best teachers I've ever had!
Drama King: Me too! She's awesome!
Brilliant One: I'm so glad she's my teacher.
I kind of died. Because how cute is that?
Y'all, I know I say this, like, all the time.
But seriously?
We have the best damn jobs in the world.
(Image credit to parislemon)
The Hunger Games is the scorchin' hot title at my school right now. Our library's copies are always checked out with quite the waiting list, and those at our book fair sold out by the second day. One of my students devoured it; he'd come to class, slide into his seat, and read frantically until the bell rang, signaling the end of passing period. Walking through the hallways, his face deep in its pages, a friend walked next to him to help steer. At lunch, he gobbled his food before slipping his bookmark out from between the pages and diving back in (he didn't want to read while eating because he feared dripping ketchup on its pages). Any time he had a free moment, he read. When he finished, I asked him if I should track down a copy and read it. He looked at me, clearly stunned. "You haven't read it?""Not yet - it's always checked out and I don't want to take a copy away from student availability.""You HAVE to read it. It's like the best book I've ever read. Ever. You HAVE TO."I smiled. "Wanna loan me yours?"His face lit up. "I'll bring it tomorrow." And he did.
For the first week that he'd loaned it to me, I had no time. I was sick and in a grading crunch, and keeping up with that was about all I could handle. He'd check in every day, and every day I'd have to admit that no, I hadn't started it yet. And every day, he'd shake his head and tell me I didn't know what I was missing. And I'd say I'd start it soon. Then I just kind of forgot about the whole thing. Yesterday I remembered. It had been buried under a pile of papers on my desk, a pile I finally sorted through. So I popped it in my purse to take home this weekend. I started it this morning. And finished it this morning. And then scampered over to my computer to place a public library hold on Catching Fire (though I think I'm going to have to hit my local independent bookstore tomorrow to buy a copy - I'm number 45 on the hold list of 34 holdable copies and I just can't wait that long). Hot DAMN, that is a compelling read. I'm late to the HG bandwagon, but I'm firmly on now. Thank you, Suzanne Collins, and thank you to my 8th grade reader who showed me the light.
After school today, three of my boys were hanging out in my room. They stay periodically to "help" me with whatever I need and I pay them in sodas and chips. Some days they do actually help; some days I shoo them out speedily.
One of the three is particularly attached to me. His mom died when he was little and his dad's not the most supportive, so I give him pencils as needed, read his personal writing and make encouraging noises, slip him granola bars when he's hungry. He's kind of a space cadet but he's sweet.
Today they were helping me reorganize my classroom library. Another "helper" had thoughtfully put all the books back into bins....but she'd combined them into as few bins as possible. So they no longer were categorized at all, and the library was pretty well useless. Thus we were pulling the books out to resort.
Space Cadet asked why I had so many books. "You should give them to the reading teachers," he said.
"Well, I'll be a reading teacher too soon," I answered.
Though I teach Language Arts, right now I focus primarily on writing, listening, and speaking; that will change with our kickin' new schedule. That the kids don't know about yet. Which I realized when Space Cadet said, "You will?"
So I immediately covered. "Yep, next year."
"Will that be here or at Local High School?"
"Here.""Oh." He was quiet for a moment. "Well, I'll come visit you next year."
"I hope you do."I hope I get to keep him with the change. I hope he can wait till next year to visit and doesn't have to start in January.
(Image credit to LizMarie. Ah, would that my classroom library were so organized....)
On Friday, I was standing in the hall before first period when Motormouth's sister SkateStar walked over to me. I had her last year as a sixth grader and we always got along well, so the combination of our own history and of my closeness with her brother means we chat a lot. SkateStar asked me what I was doing that weekend. I said something about grading and meeting some friends, and asked about her plans."I'm having a birthday party.""Ooh, happy almost birthday! How fun!"She nodded. "Yeah, it's going to be great. We're going to Local Popular Skating Rink.""Awesome! I assume by telling me, you're inviting me to the party," I joked.SkateStar nodded again. "Of course."I laughed. "Boy, wouldn't you and Motormouth be surprised if I actually showed up?""No!" "Yes you would.""Well, I would, a little....but not Motormouth. He's not invited. You really should come though."I laughed. "Thanks for the invite but I'll pass....I think it would be weird if I came."Just then, Motormouth walked up. "Weird if you came to what? What're you guys talking about?""Your sister just invited me to her birthday party. I hear you're not invited, though.""What! You're inviting Ms. Teachin' and not me?!?!?!?" SkateStar smiled sweetly and nodded. "Aw, that's messed up. That's real messed up. For real - that's not cool." Motormouth walked into the classroom, still shaking his head and muttering about the situation. His sister laughed, gave me a hug, and skipped off to class. I went inside to teach.Obviously I didn't go to the party. Would've been really weird. Plus I didn't want to rub it in to Motormouth any more. But it's always nice to be invited!(Photo credit to smaedli)
Today after school, I spent an hour working with two of my boys. We've been doing some descriptive writing; the kids chose an object that was meaningful to them because of someone it's connected to, and they wrote about it. Tomorrow we're typing the pieces up and inserting photos of their objects, and then we will create a class magazine which will be distributed at parent/teacher conferences.
The boys I was working with today are not particularly talented writers; in fact, they struggle. A lot. But they stayed, and they worked, and they got their pieces done, and they'll be ready to type them tomorrow. It wore me out - every sentence was a struggle with one of them, a debate over whether or not he could think of something to say. Could he? Yes. But hot damn it took some time to get there.
At the end of the hour, I spent a few minutes talking to one of them about writing: his feelings around it, what he's interested in writing about, what he's felt good about in the past. He had nothing to say. I pushed him on it. "So what writing have you done that you're really proud of? When have you done a piece of writing that you thought you did a really good job on?"
He thought for a minute. "Well, only this one.""The one you just finished?"
"Yeah. I never thought I did a good job before. But I think I did a really good job on this."
Suddenly I didn't feel so tired.
(Photo credit to frielp.)
"Don't cry TOO much tonight, Mr. Confident." That was the last thing I said to a student to finish gently mocking him for not being quite as badass as he'd like to believe that he is.As I walked away, I slipped in some mud and almost fell. I caught myself, but not before Mr. Confident and his friends saw.He actually fell on the ground, he was laughing so hard.When he managed to get up again, I shrugged, laughing too. Because that's what I get for making fun of him. Total karmic payback.A good lesson for us both.(Photo credit to Freddy The Boy)
"I'm a dreamer but I ain't the only one Got problems but we love to have fun"
-K'naan, "Dreamer"
I teach eighth grade Language Arts at an urban school. My kids kick ass and will change the world. I want everyone to know.
We've been working on major research projects for the last several weeks and have accordingly spent a lot of time in our school library. The library is conveniently located right across the hall from my room, so it's easy for me to run back and forth if needed. 
