Foot In Mouth Disease

Well, what a day today was. Just less than 48 hours ago, I blogged about administrators being clueless and out of the classroom too long; I blogged about them making unreasonable requests; and I blogged about them trying to justify their paychecks. I was on quite a roll (See WTF).

Well, today I'm teaching my little kiddos about improper fractions and mixed numbers; we're discussing numerators and denominators; and we're discussing my age (today also happens to be my birthday...and the little elementary student is always ever so curious about the age of their teacher). While we are on the subject of converting mixed numbers to improper fractions and vice versa, out of the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of the backside of a very familiar looking head. Not only is it a familiar looking head, but it also happens to be "The Head" Superintendent of my very large school district (walking with a small entourage).

First thought in my head was, "Oh, shit..he's read my blog and he's here to fire me on my birthday, that heartless man." And usually, whenever a supe is at a school, there always seems to be TV news crews videographing his visit. So, naturally my next thought was, "Oh, shit..he's read my blog and he's here to fire me on my birthday for the 6 o'clock news, that heartless man." I tried to play it cool in front of my kids. He didn't even look in through my door, just kept on walking down the hallway, escorted by some tall guy with a bluetooth phone thingy in his ear (What was that guy's purpose anyway? Bodyguard? Secret Service? Offensive Coordinator?). So, I'm a bundle of nerves now. I'm calling improper fractions mixed numbers, whole numbers fractions and generally not making much sense.

It took awhile for me to finally get a grip and settle down. I thought maybe the dude was going to come around for a second pass, but he never did. Whew!! I'm just not good around big wigs. If I had to describe my overall persona and appearance around big wigs, I'd tell you to go rent "Weird Science" and watch the part where Chet gets turned into a pile of ..well, sh...err..poop. That's basically me around big wigs. They weird me out, to use a phrase not from my age group.

So, I guess I'm safe for now and my job is still intact. It would've been a shame, so early in my blogging career, to have to resort to blogging about working the register at the local Wal-Mart. Let me just give notice to all 9 of you readers out there: get a nice visual picture of my mug in your head, because by Sunday, I'll be deep, deep, deep undercover. Don't be surprised if you see an image of "Sponge Bob" in place of my face. And Mr. Supe, if you're reading this, that thing about you being heartless and all? Well, that was just a little poetic license for dramatic purposes. I'm sure you're not heartless at all (insert nervous laughter here).

5 Things About Me You May Not Know

Mister Teacher has "tagged" me and is making me tell whoever reads this 5 things they may not know about me. I think I'd rather write "I promise I will try to blog more," on the board 100 times. Anyway, here goes:

1. One night when I was about 2 years old growing up in deep south Texas, there was a banging on the back door of the house (which happened to be in my bedroom). The banging was accompanied by a voice that was demanding to be let in the house. My parents called the police. Turned out that the person trying to get in was then-Dallas Cowboy coach Tom Landry's senile mother who was having a bad episode of dementia.
   
   
2. In high school, I jury rigged the wipe wash hose of my 1978 Dodge Aspen to squirt a stream of water at high velocity out to the side of the car. I guess I got "Aspen" confused with "Aston Martin". I so badly wanted to be James Bond, I even considered putting lighter fluid in the resevoir instead of water (if only I could've found a way to keep a constant open flame by the spout). Anyway, I hosed down many unsuspecting targets this way. My cohorts and I became known as the "Squirt Squad" (so high school).
   
   
3. I like to compose music in my spare time. I was originally inspired by this girl I had the hots for in high school. She had a steady boyfriend, but I didn't care. She made my heart go pitter-pat. One night, we had a secret late-night rendezvous at the local Whataburger where we just sat and talked. If I ever make a "Top Ten Best Days of My Life" list, that night will definitely make the list. Nothing romantic really ever materialized, but the music will be with me forever.
   
   
4. I have a secret desire to write screenplays. I've never tried, but I've bought several books on techniques and style. Maybe one day, I'll do it. A fellow teacher and I got an idea for a movie while watching our kids play at recess last year. We decided our idea would make a good sequel to "Dodge Ball". It's called "Four Square: Globo-Gym Strikes Back". Hey, don't laugh! Four Square is an extremely demanding sport that requires skills in athleticism, deception, and "in-your-face-ism".
   
   
5. You pick the last one: I graduated high school #31 in a class of 400-ish. I received 3rd place in the best-looking car category for the "Pinewood Derby" when I was in Cub Scouts (back in my elementary school days). I was voted "Teacher of the Year" once at the first school I taught at. I won $500 playing bingo once while waiting for my girlfriend to get off work at the bingo parlor. I spent the night in the emergency room once for a kidney stone and had demerol-induced hallucinations which included boxes of Cheerios floating in mid-air.

WTF?

Today, I (along with an assortment of other teachers) was asked by my boss to come up with a list of predicted passers and failers of the big state standardized test coming up in the next few months. This request was made, of course, at the behest of his boss who probably feels the need to justify his paycheck. Who knows for sure?

However, this request is not very unusual or unreasonable. Predictions like that go on in my head on an almost daily basis. When I ask a student what 10 + 7 is, and they have to put it down on paper to find the answer, I file that student's name in a section of my brain called the "uh-oh" file. This is basically the file that contains the names of all students in danger of failing the state standardized exam. Of course, this process takes a fraction of a nanosecond to complete. It basically goes like this:

Me: "Student A, what is 10 + 7?"

student reaches for pencil and/or paper

FILING COMPLETE. Next student please.

I'm not judging that student. I'm just making a mental note to myself that this particular student may need some extra help during the year, whether it be tutoring or common-sense class. After 11 years of teaching, I can make pretty accurate predictions about who is going to pass and who is going to fail the test.

So, anyway, we were asked to compile a list of potential passers and failers by Friday. Not a big deal. But, then the real problem arose in the next request: not only did they want a list of predicted passers and failers, but they also wanted a list of predicted gains and losses per student. So, it basically goes like this:

• I look up the student's scale score from last year's test.
• I pull the student's scale score for this year's upcoming test out of my ass.
• If the score out of my ass is more than last year's, then its a gain.

Simple, right? You see, student A (who made a scale score of 1,990 on last year's test) is going to have a bout of diarrhea on test day this year. This, combined with his test anxiety and the fact that he will wake up 20 minutes late and miss breakfast, will decrease his scale score by 20 points. Who woulda figured?

This just goes to prove my point that the people in charge of the people in charge of the people in charge...shouldn't be in charge. How can someone make a request like that and keep a straight face? It basically goes like this:

• They don't have a clue.
• They haven't taught in several years.
• They hate me.

It's a plot, no doubt, concocted by the same evildoers who made me drive to school in the ice last week.