Day after day the war on Iraq takes the lives of our young American troops. One of those has a name and face to me. Earlier tonight I found out that one of my former students, Kenny, died overseas in Iraq. I've had a lot of students join the military over the years, and there was a particular group of wild young'uns who made the decision to go not long after we went to war. They came to school their senior year and proclaimed they were all going. I was impressed with their maturity, duty, and sense of patriotism.
I can't say that I haven't been dreading the day that I found out that I lost "one of my kids" to the war. I have thought about it a lot because right now there are quite a few of them overseas. Half expecting that it was going to happen sooner or later doesn't make it feel any better, though. I'm heart-broken and weepy like he was more than just some kid who was in my class.
He was more than just some kid in my class. Before moving to the city, I lived in a teeny, tiny town and taught at a high school that only had about 200 students. I taught all of the students for first two years of their high school careers, but after that it wasn't like I forgot them. We teachers worked as a team to help raise these kids, and we were a constant presence in their lives. As the yearbook advisor, I was everywhere capturing everything on film. (My staff members were often also involved in the activities that needed photos taken.) I was there on the football field with them. I was on the dance floor at prom. I was there pinning on their flowers and straightening their caps at graduation. Sometimes I felt like a mom--or at least an auntie.
Kenny will forever be in my mind as that nice guy whom everyone liked. He was an average student, but a good athlete. He always had a smile, and the one I'll remember the most is the one with braces. And with freckles. And a ball cap that I'm sure I had to continually remind him to remove in class. I remember him in some sort of jersey or school athletic wear. Sports were a big deal at our school, and a lot of the students' wardrobes mainly consisted of black and gray clothing with our mascot and school name.
I had seen him since he went into the military. The first time I was so surprised that he was so fit and trim. I hadn't though of him as fat or even pudgy, but with some boot camp training, he came home for a visit standing tall and looking lean. He looked like a man. He acted like a man. How quickly the military matures them!
And I'm sure duty in Iraq matured him even more. There are some pictures of him on his Myspace page, all dressed in his gear, looking like the original bad-ass GI Joe. He looks serious, but healthy. And to me, he still looks young.
And he will always be young, as he was barely 21-years-old.
My heart is so full, yet so broken. Spilling. I'm so damn proud of the man he became, but just deeply saddened that he didn't live too many years walking as that brave, honorable man.
October 30, 2006
October 29, 2006
From the Tattle Tale Files
Mister Teacher posted an anecdote about the Princess Tattler he has this year. Who doesn't loathe tattlers?
Since I teach at the secondary level, I don't have too much tattling, and when I do, it's usually kids just goofing around. "Miss! He hit me, poked me, looked at me, took my pencil, or did something I obviously cannot deal with on my own."
I used to answer, "Well, what did YOU do to provoke him?" Doesn't it usually seem that the tattler is often the instigator?
Lately I've been amusing myself with responses such as, "Well, them I'm going to have to hang him upside down and throw darts at him." Or, "I'm going to have to banish him to another realm."
When dealing with my own children I say, "Well, I'm just going to beat the shit out of him. Does that sound like a good solution?" (Their eyes get wide and they run off and deal with their petty issues without my help. In case you aren't a regular reader, of course I wouldn't follow through on that threat. Even if it does sound like a good idea.)
Mister Teacher's post brought to mind an incident with my high schoolers last week. If you think it's irritating to have 2nd graders tattle, try 12th graders. It's hard for me to not completely go off about their immaturity when they tattle, so I generally ignore them. However, I did put one of my senior boys in his place (he was left speechless) last week:
"Miss! She's bugging to me! I'm trying to concentrate." As far as I had observed, he had not been concentrating most of the night. And who was he tattling on? His own girlfriend.
"Listen," I said, "You're going to be a dad soon. Leave her alone. She's eight months pregnant, and you need to treat her with a little more respect. Stop tattling already! Daddies don't do that. You need to GROW UP!"
That poor pregnant girl has TWO kids to raise.
Since I teach at the secondary level, I don't have too much tattling, and when I do, it's usually kids just goofing around. "Miss! He hit me, poked me, looked at me, took my pencil, or did something I obviously cannot deal with on my own."
I used to answer, "Well, what did YOU do to provoke him?" Doesn't it usually seem that the tattler is often the instigator?
Lately I've been amusing myself with responses such as, "Well, them I'm going to have to hang him upside down and throw darts at him." Or, "I'm going to have to banish him to another realm."
When dealing with my own children I say, "Well, I'm just going to beat the shit out of him. Does that sound like a good solution?" (Their eyes get wide and they run off and deal with their petty issues without my help. In case you aren't a regular reader, of course I wouldn't follow through on that threat. Even if it does sound like a good idea.)
Mister Teacher's post brought to mind an incident with my high schoolers last week. If you think it's irritating to have 2nd graders tattle, try 12th graders. It's hard for me to not completely go off about their immaturity when they tattle, so I generally ignore them. However, I did put one of my senior boys in his place (he was left speechless) last week:
"Miss! She's bugging to me! I'm trying to concentrate." As far as I had observed, he had not been concentrating most of the night. And who was he tattling on? His own girlfriend.
"Listen," I said, "You're going to be a dad soon. Leave her alone. She's eight months pregnant, and you need to treat her with a little more respect. Stop tattling already! Daddies don't do that. You need to GROW UP!"
That poor pregnant girl has TWO kids to raise.
October 27, 2006
Hooray for a Good Day!
I've just been way too depressed and pissy lately. Don't think I don't know!
Yesterday some little things happened that made me day just peachy.
For one thing, people weren't trying to pick fights with me. Well, except one girl who really so badly wants to be in charge of the 35 students of her class, but whatever. We had a talk and she's going to try to find something else to be in charge of because her class is mine all mine! I wonder if she'll actually do it.
Anyway...I had students finishing quarter exams and the rest of them were doing the old stand-by round robin writing activity. You know the one where they start a story and then after a little while pass it to another student to add to it, and on and on and on. They complained at first, but then after the class was over, many of them (mostly my stinky boys) came up and told me it was a cool activity.
Glad you like it kiddos because I got a ton of work done at my desk, your slowpoke classmates were able to finish their tests, and YOU spent what could have been a worthless day (end of quarter and the day before a 3-day weekend) actually WRITING your little hearts out. Triple score for the teacher!
I missed lunch because I attended a very cool function in library. One of my yearbook students (and a student on my team) brought me a HUGE plate of food from day two of the Multicultural Feast our social studies teacher organized. (Two days because including all the students in one day would have been crazy. The first day actually was a little crazy because all 50 students actually brought food to share. It was amazing!) How sweet for someone to think of me! It turned out that it wasn't a student but another teacher who sent the plate, but still I am loved. There were four different tamales on my plate. Score! I have no idea how to make tamales, and eating them in a restaurant is not the same. Seriously, if you want good tamales, someone's mom has to make them!
So then that class period was, "Shut up and start your story. Leave me alone. I'm eating tamales."
The very cool function I attended in the library? We had an author visit our school!I'm not sure if he's known author, up and coming, or serious obscure, but he gets paid to write books for kids, so good for him! His name is Obert Skye and you can check out his website to find out more about his books and a place he discovered called Foo. I'm not a big fan of young adult fantasy, but it does seem to be a hot genre right now. The book reminds me a little of J.K. Rowling and Lemony Snicket, but then perhaps there is that notion that the good YA fantasy books should contain some of key elements that those contain. I dunno.
Obert Skye was a very entertaining speaker who kept the students enchanted the whole time. He told them about his exciting journey into having his story published, which you wouldn't think would interest many of our students, but he did frame it in terms they would know from experiences of writing their own pieces. It was so funny when he showed the kids the before and after with a piece of writing he had done. His editor must be as evil as I am! I just turn and looked at a few of my publications students who were sitting behind me and they shook their heads at me. I'm pretty brutal with their writing: "Did you proof this before you brought it here? Well, try again. Make sure you figure out the correct way to spell "which" unless you'd like to see me turn into the one you have written down."
It's so awesome for the students (and me) to get some outside inspiration from our visiting author. It's not every day one meets a writer who actually makes money. For the students, it's not every day they meet someone besides their teacher is super cool and actually like to write.
The day ended pretty well with a lack of suicidal drivers on the freeway when I took the kids to the weekend trade-off place, which is two hours away. I hate traveling that roadway so much that I keep threatening that I need to be medicated to stay calm. Instead, I usually read. This time I had to take them alone, so I was dreading it, but in the end it turned out to be a quiet night. Mostly just me and hundred of semi trucks.
Some inspiration...homemade tamales...extra industry at my desk...students writing and liking it...and not dying in a fiery crash in the I-15...what a good day!
Yesterday some little things happened that made me day just peachy.
For one thing, people weren't trying to pick fights with me. Well, except one girl who really so badly wants to be in charge of the 35 students of her class, but whatever. We had a talk and she's going to try to find something else to be in charge of because her class is mine all mine! I wonder if she'll actually do it.
Anyway...I had students finishing quarter exams and the rest of them were doing the old stand-by round robin writing activity. You know the one where they start a story and then after a little while pass it to another student to add to it, and on and on and on. They complained at first, but then after the class was over, many of them (mostly my stinky boys) came up and told me it was a cool activity.
Glad you like it kiddos because I got a ton of work done at my desk, your slowpoke classmates were able to finish their tests, and YOU spent what could have been a worthless day (end of quarter and the day before a 3-day weekend) actually WRITING your little hearts out. Triple score for the teacher!
I missed lunch because I attended a very cool function in library. One of my yearbook students (and a student on my team) brought me a HUGE plate of food from day two of the Multicultural Feast our social studies teacher organized. (Two days because including all the students in one day would have been crazy. The first day actually was a little crazy because all 50 students actually brought food to share. It was amazing!) How sweet for someone to think of me! It turned out that it wasn't a student but another teacher who sent the plate, but still I am loved. There were four different tamales on my plate. Score! I have no idea how to make tamales, and eating them in a restaurant is not the same. Seriously, if you want good tamales, someone's mom has to make them!
So then that class period was, "Shut up and start your story. Leave me alone. I'm eating tamales."
The very cool function I attended in the library? We had an author visit our school!I'm not sure if he's known author, up and coming, or serious obscure, but he gets paid to write books for kids, so good for him! His name is Obert Skye and you can check out his website to find out more about his books and a place he discovered called Foo. I'm not a big fan of young adult fantasy, but it does seem to be a hot genre right now. The book reminds me a little of J.K. Rowling and Lemony Snicket, but then perhaps there is that notion that the good YA fantasy books should contain some of key elements that those contain. I dunno.
Obert Skye was a very entertaining speaker who kept the students enchanted the whole time. He told them about his exciting journey into having his story published, which you wouldn't think would interest many of our students, but he did frame it in terms they would know from experiences of writing their own pieces. It was so funny when he showed the kids the before and after with a piece of writing he had done. His editor must be as evil as I am! I just turn and looked at a few of my publications students who were sitting behind me and they shook their heads at me. I'm pretty brutal with their writing: "Did you proof this before you brought it here? Well, try again. Make sure you figure out the correct way to spell "which" unless you'd like to see me turn into the one you have written down."
It's so awesome for the students (and me) to get some outside inspiration from our visiting author. It's not every day one meets a writer who actually makes money. For the students, it's not every day they meet someone besides their teacher is super cool and actually like to write.
The day ended pretty well with a lack of suicidal drivers on the freeway when I took the kids to the weekend trade-off place, which is two hours away. I hate traveling that roadway so much that I keep threatening that I need to be medicated to stay calm. Instead, I usually read. This time I had to take them alone, so I was dreading it, but in the end it turned out to be a quiet night. Mostly just me and hundred of semi trucks.
Some inspiration...homemade tamales...extra industry at my desk...students writing and liking it...and not dying in a fiery crash in the I-15...what a good day!
October 25, 2006
What Drives Teachers to Drink
Students who don't do their work.
Students who, in their 9th year of education, cannot remember to put their names on their papers.
Giving the same directions 20 times a day.
Parents who don't want their students to take responsibility for their own actions.
Needing caffeine and finding only a empty Pepsi can on my desk.
Parents who think that their students should have extra opportunities to turn in work for full credit because they, the parent, didn't know about the missing assignments the very day it was missing.
Parents who think that because they are trying hard to be good parents that we teachers should allow their students to make up work--for full credit--including work done that should have been completed 7 weeks ago.
Being out of chocolate.
Parents who would like students to redo the work they turned in late and incomplete for full credit. Isn't my letting students turn in late work, although with a penalty, their chance to complete an assignment? Too bad they chose to do a crappy job and turn it in late.
Parents who who signed the course expectation but don't really care what it actually says.
My own internal struggles as I wish I could actually make it a rule to never accept late work, like I did when I taught high school, and how I know many teachers who teach at our target high schools do.
Needing mittens in my classroom because the air conditioner is still on, but it's now actually sweater weather. Finding mittens in LV when it's only October.
Trying to be kind to the students of difficult parents, especially when left alone, the students in question might actually pull it together on their with a little guidance, rather than having their parents bail them out.
Not knowing how to be professional and caring when decent students of difficult parents are obviously trying to reach out and make a connection with me, as other students sometimes do, but I'd rather not even speak to the student in fear of adding more flame to the fire. Or having it used against me in a court of law somehow.
Feeling alone and overwhelmed.
Parents who pay visits to my classroom, not to observe how their students are doing/not doing, but to observe me. Perhaps these parents should save my administrator some time and go ahead and file those reports to her, aye?
Not knowing that the visiting parents were actually there to accumulate dirt on me that could later be used in a public complaint.
Forgetting to stock Tums in my desk.
Using up my entire prep to attend "important meetings" but actually wasting 15-20 minutes waiting for the meeting to begin or for people to show up.
Broken copy machines.
Parents who say they've left voice messages but actually haven't. I've had two (2) parents leave a voice message this year. I think I might have caught it if the parent in question was one.
Following the administrative directives but then having parents complain.
Getting called into the principal's office one day and the vice-principal's the next. (At least I have a trouble buddy. We've been sharing the meetings.)
Somehow being involved in a big school conflict but not really sure how I got there.
Walking into a meeting about said conflict and feeling a little lost because it's larger than me and what's going on in my classroom.
Having problems with the prescribed computer programs and applications. Problems? How about wasting my time trying to do things like load rosters, only to have the programs freeze. Huge time waster. I wonder if we pay a lot of money for these things.
Not wanting to take pills for my headache because I can't chase it with Tums.
The 3-foot stack of papers that I wanted to have done tomorrow so I can take the weekend off.
Supporting Red Ribbon Week and not being able to take the necessary drugs that might make that 3-foot stack more enjoyable.
Not knowing how to score some of the drugs anyway.
Having to go home to my own (step)children and be alert and kind when I just want to go to happy hour like in the good old days of being single.
Adding all of the above up to get the mother of all bad weeks. Adding is bad.
Students who, in their 9th year of education, cannot remember to put their names on their papers.
Giving the same directions 20 times a day.
Parents who don't want their students to take responsibility for their own actions.
Needing caffeine and finding only a empty Pepsi can on my desk.
Parents who think that their students should have extra opportunities to turn in work for full credit because they, the parent, didn't know about the missing assignments the very day it was missing.
Parents who think that because they are trying hard to be good parents that we teachers should allow their students to make up work--for full credit--including work done that should have been completed 7 weeks ago.
Being out of chocolate.
Parents who would like students to redo the work they turned in late and incomplete for full credit. Isn't my letting students turn in late work, although with a penalty, their chance to complete an assignment? Too bad they chose to do a crappy job and turn it in late.
Parents who who signed the course expectation but don't really care what it actually says.
My own internal struggles as I wish I could actually make it a rule to never accept late work, like I did when I taught high school, and how I know many teachers who teach at our target high schools do.
Needing mittens in my classroom because the air conditioner is still on, but it's now actually sweater weather. Finding mittens in LV when it's only October.
Trying to be kind to the students of difficult parents, especially when left alone, the students in question might actually pull it together on their with a little guidance, rather than having their parents bail them out.
Not knowing how to be professional and caring when decent students of difficult parents are obviously trying to reach out and make a connection with me, as other students sometimes do, but I'd rather not even speak to the student in fear of adding more flame to the fire. Or having it used against me in a court of law somehow.
Feeling alone and overwhelmed.
Parents who pay visits to my classroom, not to observe how their students are doing/not doing, but to observe me. Perhaps these parents should save my administrator some time and go ahead and file those reports to her, aye?
Not knowing that the visiting parents were actually there to accumulate dirt on me that could later be used in a public complaint.
Forgetting to stock Tums in my desk.
Using up my entire prep to attend "important meetings" but actually wasting 15-20 minutes waiting for the meeting to begin or for people to show up.
Broken copy machines.
Parents who say they've left voice messages but actually haven't. I've had two (2) parents leave a voice message this year. I think I might have caught it if the parent in question was one.
Following the administrative directives but then having parents complain.
Getting called into the principal's office one day and the vice-principal's the next. (At least I have a trouble buddy. We've been sharing the meetings.)
Somehow being involved in a big school conflict but not really sure how I got there.
Walking into a meeting about said conflict and feeling a little lost because it's larger than me and what's going on in my classroom.
Having problems with the prescribed computer programs and applications. Problems? How about wasting my time trying to do things like load rosters, only to have the programs freeze. Huge time waster. I wonder if we pay a lot of money for these things.
Not wanting to take pills for my headache because I can't chase it with Tums.
The 3-foot stack of papers that I wanted to have done tomorrow so I can take the weekend off.
Supporting Red Ribbon Week and not being able to take the necessary drugs that might make that 3-foot stack more enjoyable.
Not knowing how to score some of the drugs anyway.
Having to go home to my own (step)children and be alert and kind when I just want to go to happy hour like in the good old days of being single.
Adding all of the above up to get the mother of all bad weeks. Adding is bad.
October 24, 2006
End of Quarter Fatigue Sets In
I was hardly impressed with my high school students tonight. It was the last class of the quarter, so they should have been working hard to finish their final, which consisted of one new essay and two essay revisions from their work this quarter. I didn't think it was a lot to ask in the four hours I had them over the course of two days. My ELL student can earn a little slack because his thought and writing processes take so long. Bless his hard-working heart. The rest? Bleah. They are the type of students who are happy with their medicore grades. One student is going to fail, but he claims he's just going to school to impress the judge.
Whatever. Why do I care anyway? They could do better. But what do they say to me? "Miss, am I going to see you next quarter?" I'm not going anywhere. You trying to get me to leave? Geez. Bring it on, punk. You might be good at jacking cars, but your skills in driving me nuts aren't quite developed yet. And one girl said to me, "Miss, do you really need the money?" Actually the money is nice, but who teaches a writing class to a bunch of non-writers at 8:00 p.m. unless they enjoy it? Or try to enjoy it? The students don't understand. They all have shitty jobs so they can make their way. I'm sad that they think my frustration in their apathy constitutes a shitty job that I need just to get by.
It's hard being an English teacher sometimes. Students either love or hate your class. Very little gray area for most. None of my high school students--in a composition/creative writing course--enjoy writing in any way. They all need the credit and were hoping it would be an easy grade. Well, it is not too tough, but it is quite work-intensive. "Miss! All we do is WRITE!" Well, DUH! it's a freakin' writing class!
This week marks the end of the quarter, and luckily we happen to have a 3-day week to celebrate a state holiday. The last few weekends I've had to bring a lot of work home, so I'm completely entrenched in work right now. Entrenched. Whatever. BURIED! I just want to veg out with a good book and forget about work for a few days. Hurry up week! End already!
Whatever. Why do I care anyway? They could do better. But what do they say to me? "Miss, am I going to see you next quarter?" I'm not going anywhere. You trying to get me to leave? Geez. Bring it on, punk. You might be good at jacking cars, but your skills in driving me nuts aren't quite developed yet. And one girl said to me, "Miss, do you really need the money?" Actually the money is nice, but who teaches a writing class to a bunch of non-writers at 8:00 p.m. unless they enjoy it? Or try to enjoy it? The students don't understand. They all have shitty jobs so they can make their way. I'm sad that they think my frustration in their apathy constitutes a shitty job that I need just to get by.
It's hard being an English teacher sometimes. Students either love or hate your class. Very little gray area for most. None of my high school students--in a composition/creative writing course--enjoy writing in any way. They all need the credit and were hoping it would be an easy grade. Well, it is not too tough, but it is quite work-intensive. "Miss! All we do is WRITE!" Well, DUH! it's a freakin' writing class!
This week marks the end of the quarter, and luckily we happen to have a 3-day week to celebrate a state holiday. The last few weekends I've had to bring a lot of work home, so I'm completely entrenched in work right now. Entrenched. Whatever. BURIED! I just want to veg out with a good book and forget about work for a few days. Hurry up week! End already!
October 19, 2006
Who Cares What Your Other Teacher Says?
Simple Task:
"Open your textbooks and answer the review questions for the story we read yesterday."
Okay...maybe not so simple. So I add:
"Be sure to label and answer all parts of the question. Rephrase the question in your answer. Write complete sentences so I can actually understand what you are trying to communicate. You know, like we've done before."
Just a quick warm-up activity before we dig more deeply into some literary elements.
Halfway through the short allotted time a student calls me over:
"Is it okay if I just answer all the questions in one big paragraph." (Read: I didn't follow instructions--is that okay with you, teacher?)
"No, it is not. Label each question and its parts."
"Well, I'm taking a writing class after school, and my teacher says that how I should do it."
Another teacher told her how she should assignments in my class? What the hell? "That's a really great idea if you are writing to an essay prompt, say on a test or something, but that is not what we're doing here." End of conversation. I start to move on to another student.
Sorry to admit it, but my blood is starting to boil a little. I'm irritated when students compare me to other teachers they have had, suggest ways they'd rather do the assignment, or tell me how I should do my job. I am a trained professional kids! Have a little faith! Anyway, those incidents don't make me freak out or anything, but if the student is persistent enough on any of those points, it's not unheard of that I might blow. Or break out some Shakespearean insults or something. This incident stinks of all three situations all at once. She's damn lucky I didn't blow immediately.
So, this should have been the end, right? I did end the exhange, but then she had the audacity--after I kindly tried to reframe for her what the other teacher could have possibly meant--to look at me like I was a Class A Fool and say, "But--"
"But" nothing, little girl!
I take a deep breath because it's too early in the morning to strangle a self-absorbed-smarty-pants 8th grader over such an inane exchange.
"What has this teacher," I point to myself, "told you to do with these questions?"
And she starts to tell me again what the other teacher has told her. Who IS this teacher, anyway? The other students in the class start to become uneasy because they can see the dragon might come out of the cave. Most of them don't even know what's going on because they are busily working, but they can sense a change in atmosphere.
"Listen, why don't you do this? Why don't you go to Mr. MathTeacher's class and write all the answers to the problems he gives in one big paragraph? I'm sure he'll be just fine with it, won't he? He can easily sort out your work! No! Do this! Save it until you get to Ms. SocialStudies because you know how she would just ADORE the questions to quiz questions all mixed together in one BIG PARAGRAPH!" Yea, good luck with THAT!
Finally she gets it and drops her point. The other students go back to work, shaking their heads over the bizarre exchange. Some are disappointed that they didn't get a full on Teacher Freak Out while others are relieved. It's a quiet class, and they are amused neither by my planned nor my impromptu performances.
And wouldn't you know it? A few minutes later, some poor confused child, who had obviously been duped by the smarty-pants-girl, calls me over and asks, "So, uh, are we AREN'T suppose to write all the answers in one paragraph? Because, uh, well, I thought that's how we were, uh, suppose to do it."
Sigh.
"Open your textbooks and answer the review questions for the story we read yesterday."
Okay...maybe not so simple. So I add:
"Be sure to label and answer all parts of the question. Rephrase the question in your answer. Write complete sentences so I can actually understand what you are trying to communicate. You know, like we've done before."
Just a quick warm-up activity before we dig more deeply into some literary elements.
Halfway through the short allotted time a student calls me over:
"Is it okay if I just answer all the questions in one big paragraph." (Read: I didn't follow instructions--is that okay with you, teacher?)
"No, it is not. Label each question and its parts."
"Well, I'm taking a writing class after school, and my teacher says that how I should do it."
Another teacher told her how she should assignments in my class? What the hell? "That's a really great idea if you are writing to an essay prompt, say on a test or something, but that is not what we're doing here." End of conversation. I start to move on to another student.
Sorry to admit it, but my blood is starting to boil a little. I'm irritated when students compare me to other teachers they have had, suggest ways they'd rather do the assignment, or tell me how I should do my job. I am a trained professional kids! Have a little faith! Anyway, those incidents don't make me freak out or anything, but if the student is persistent enough on any of those points, it's not unheard of that I might blow. Or break out some Shakespearean insults or something. This incident stinks of all three situations all at once. She's damn lucky I didn't blow immediately.
So, this should have been the end, right? I did end the exhange, but then she had the audacity--after I kindly tried to reframe for her what the other teacher could have possibly meant--to look at me like I was a Class A Fool and say, "But--"
"But" nothing, little girl!
I take a deep breath because it's too early in the morning to strangle a self-absorbed-smarty-pants 8th grader over such an inane exchange.
"What has this teacher," I point to myself, "told you to do with these questions?"
And she starts to tell me again what the other teacher has told her. Who IS this teacher, anyway? The other students in the class start to become uneasy because they can see the dragon might come out of the cave. Most of them don't even know what's going on because they are busily working, but they can sense a change in atmosphere.
"Listen, why don't you do this? Why don't you go to Mr. MathTeacher's class and write all the answers to the problems he gives in one big paragraph? I'm sure he'll be just fine with it, won't he? He can easily sort out your work! No! Do this! Save it until you get to Ms. SocialStudies because you know how she would just ADORE the questions to quiz questions all mixed together in one BIG PARAGRAPH!" Yea, good luck with THAT!
Finally she gets it and drops her point. The other students go back to work, shaking their heads over the bizarre exchange. Some are disappointed that they didn't get a full on Teacher Freak Out while others are relieved. It's a quiet class, and they are amused neither by my planned nor my impromptu performances.
And wouldn't you know it? A few minutes later, some poor confused child, who had obviously been duped by the smarty-pants-girl, calls me over and asks, "So, uh, are we AREN'T suppose to write all the answers in one paragraph? Because, uh, well, I thought that's how we were, uh, suppose to do it."
Sigh.
October 18, 2006
Is Nothing Sacred?
I just adore some of the audio interpretations that came with our literature book, but I'm thinking that my students are more likely to crack up over innocent things when they hear it than when they read it.
Uhm...so is this part from Poe's "The Tell-Tale Heart" really got the snickers:
And then, when I had made an opening sufficient for my head, I put in a dark lantern, all closed, closed, that no light shone out, and then I thrust in my head. Oh, you would have laughed to see how cunningly I thrust it in! I moved it slowly --very, very slowly, so that I might not disturb the old man's sleep. It took me an hour to place my whole head within the opening so far that I could see him as he lay upon his bed.
The word "thrust" just about drove them over the edge, but then with the wrong combination of words. Geez!
I personally can't help but chuckle over the following lines:
If still you think me mad, you will think so no longer when I describe the wise precautions I took for the concealment of the body. The night waned, and I worked hastily, but in silence. First of all I dismembered the corpse. I cut off the head and the arms and the legs.
I love how nonchalantly the narrator delivers this part of the story. More than that, I love how our jaded students recoil in disgust. Ha! How I corrupt them in the name of good literature!
Uhm...so is this part from Poe's "The Tell-Tale Heart" really got the snickers:
And then, when I had made an opening sufficient for my head, I put in a dark lantern, all closed, closed, that no light shone out, and then I thrust in my head. Oh, you would have laughed to see how cunningly I thrust it in! I moved it slowly --very, very slowly, so that I might not disturb the old man's sleep. It took me an hour to place my whole head within the opening so far that I could see him as he lay upon his bed.
The word "thrust" just about drove them over the edge, but then with the wrong combination of words. Geez!
I personally can't help but chuckle over the following lines:
If still you think me mad, you will think so no longer when I describe the wise precautions I took for the concealment of the body. The night waned, and I worked hastily, but in silence. First of all I dismembered the corpse. I cut off the head and the arms and the legs.
I love how nonchalantly the narrator delivers this part of the story. More than that, I love how our jaded students recoil in disgust. Ha! How I corrupt them in the name of good literature!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)