I attended my first summer professional development session yesterday, and once again, I was less than impressed. What is it with this district? I hate being negative, so... let me first focus on the positive.
The actual session and presenter were actually quite exceptional (which is saying a lot). Our district has a new math textbook for next year, so the presenter was from the publishing company. He did a great job explaining the ins and outs of the new curriculum, and he did it such a professional manner. Kudos to that guy. He is a trooper.
I say that because he, along with the rest of his audience, had to endure excessive discomfort due to "climate-control" issues. I don't know what it is with this district and its inability to get air conditioners to actually condition the air. I've had this problem in my own school, a building less than 5 years old, as well. Its just unacceptable. At my session yesterday, I didn't actually hear the a/c turn on until around 9:30 (an hour and a half after the session began). And it never really cooled anything down. The common areas of the building were cool enough. I have no idea if the temperature problem was also going on in other rooms besides the one I was in, but I'm going to be extremely mad if I find out it was just happening in the room I was in. It wouldn't surprise me in the least to find out that this was the case and that the idea to change rooms never occurred to anyone in charge.
I have another session at a different campus later this week. It promises to be excruciatingly boring. Here's to hoping that, at least, the air conditioner will be working.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Monday, May 5, 2008
Grandpa Is In Da House!!
I really do have some very lovable kiddos this year. I've really grown attached to some, one in particular, to even a greater degree.
When I started the school year, I had a clean shaven face. When Thanksgiving came around, I had a week off, and decided to experiment with a goatee. When I showed up back to school after the week, you should've seen the look on everyone's faces. They were shocked! How could I go from clean-shaven to caveman in a week? They really have no concept of time. But, I knew that already. Believe me, I knew that. Their total cluelessness on the concept of "elapsed time", however, is for another blog at another time.
Anyway, the kids were mesmerized by the hair on my face. Some asked me if it was fake, even. It had to be fake! How could it just happen overnight like that? They just seemed to forget the fact that it had been 9 days since they had last seen me.
One student, whom I'll call B, kept playfully ribbing me about it. She kept telling me that she was going to sneak up with scissors and cut it off. Everytime she saw me after school on her way to the bus, she would wag her finger at me and say, "cut it off!" By the time Christmas rolled around she joked that she was going to give me a razor and shaving cream for Christmas. She had also noticed that the goatee had many many colorful strands of hair... brown, blonde, black, silver, gray. She really picked up on the silver and gray, which of course led her to the Santa Claus theory. She would ask me if I was Santa in disguise, spying on kids to see if they were naughty or nice.
Well, Christmas passed, and my identity eventually morphed into "grandpa". Now, she calls me grandpa all the time, and you know... I kind of like it. It's not Mr. Cater. It's grandpa! And she says it so nonchalantly now. Almost like I'm actually her grandpa! At the end of the day, on her way to buses, she says, "bye grandpa!" And, I say "bye," right back to her. Other kids just look at each other with a I-didn't-know-they-were-related look on their face.
Even though I'm young enough to be her dad, I'll gladly accept the title of grandpa. I think it really taps into my deep-seeded desire to be a parent, more than anything else has before. She greets me everyday with a hug that practically squeezes the life out of me, and at the same time, reassures me. I could be having a totally crappy day. However, when her class comes to me, that hug makes everything right again.
With the end of the year near at hand, several students in that class now call me grandpa as well. And, you know.... I kind of like it!
I hope I'm a good one.
When I started the school year, I had a clean shaven face. When Thanksgiving came around, I had a week off, and decided to experiment with a goatee. When I showed up back to school after the week, you should've seen the look on everyone's faces. They were shocked! How could I go from clean-shaven to caveman in a week? They really have no concept of time. But, I knew that already. Believe me, I knew that. Their total cluelessness on the concept of "elapsed time", however, is for another blog at another time.
Anyway, the kids were mesmerized by the hair on my face. Some asked me if it was fake, even. It had to be fake! How could it just happen overnight like that? They just seemed to forget the fact that it had been 9 days since they had last seen me.
One student, whom I'll call B, kept playfully ribbing me about it. She kept telling me that she was going to sneak up with scissors and cut it off. Everytime she saw me after school on her way to the bus, she would wag her finger at me and say, "cut it off!" By the time Christmas rolled around she joked that she was going to give me a razor and shaving cream for Christmas. She had also noticed that the goatee had many many colorful strands of hair... brown, blonde, black, silver, gray. She really picked up on the silver and gray, which of course led her to the Santa Claus theory. She would ask me if I was Santa in disguise, spying on kids to see if they were naughty or nice.
Well, Christmas passed, and my identity eventually morphed into "grandpa". Now, she calls me grandpa all the time, and you know... I kind of like it. It's not Mr. Cater. It's grandpa! And she says it so nonchalantly now. Almost like I'm actually her grandpa! At the end of the day, on her way to buses, she says, "bye grandpa!" And, I say "bye," right back to her. Other kids just look at each other with a I-didn't-know-they-were-related look on their face.
Even though I'm young enough to be her dad, I'll gladly accept the title of grandpa. I think it really taps into my deep-seeded desire to be a parent, more than anything else has before. She greets me everyday with a hug that practically squeezes the life out of me, and at the same time, reassures me. I could be having a totally crappy day. However, when her class comes to me, that hug makes everything right again.
With the end of the year near at hand, several students in that class now call me grandpa as well. And, you know.... I kind of like it!
I hope I'm a good one.
Monday, April 28, 2008
Armageddon Tomorrow
No, its not an asteroid. No, its not the rapture. No, its not World War III. Its that damn TAKS test. And, I'll be glad when its over.
I don't know what ticks me off more... my kids, 24 hours before the test, muttering nonsensical words such as "left angle" or the State of Texas and my school district for making me treat this like it was the freakin' Manhattan Project.
I can be completely honest when I say that if the winning envelopes to the Oscars were stored in my classroom on test day, the winners would continue to remain a secret. The accounting firms of Coopers and Lybrand, Arthur Anderson, Chip and Dale (or whoever it is) have nothing on me when it comes to security.
Furthermore:
I don't know what ticks me off more... my kids, 24 hours before the test, muttering nonsensical words such as "left angle" or the State of Texas and my school district for making me treat this like it was the freakin' Manhattan Project.
I can be completely honest when I say that if the winning envelopes to the Oscars were stored in my classroom on test day, the winners would continue to remain a secret. The accounting firms of Coopers and Lybrand, Arthur Anderson, Chip and Dale (or whoever it is) have nothing on me when it comes to security.
Furthermore:
- Oppenheimer could've done his research in my classroom.
- Put the Ark of the Covenant in my classroom and good ole Indiana Jones wouldn't have been able to touch it.
- Bill Belichick couldn't get his video cameras anywhere NEAR my room. (And the shades are drawn too).
Anything in my classroom that could be considered the least bit likely to give a student an edge in figuring out the answer to a test question, has been covered. Even things that have no potential whatsoever to give a student an answer have been covered (my bookshelf). I mean, after all, you never know when a kid looking at the bindings of the books on my bookshelf might be able to figure out that you multiply length and width to find the area of a rectangle. And of course, you never know when a kid actually might care THAT much to actually LOOK for an answer on the binding of a book on my bookshelf.
But, never fear. Security abounds even outside of my classroom. Trips to the restroom occur with escorts in order to make sure that kids don't talk about the math test when they leave the prison that is their classroom. You never know when a kid actually might care THAT much to actually ASK the 10-year old at the next urinal if he remembers how to determine if 2 fractions are equivalent.
And, of course... there is the cafeteria. When it comes time for lunch, classes must walk in lines to the cafeteria in pre-determined routes (as to not disturb other testing classes). I imagine presidential motorcade routes are formulated in much the same way. And to top it all off, the actual dining area is closed. Students must eat in the classroom under the strict supervision of their proctor. Because, who knows when a kid actually might care THAT much to actually ASK the 10-year old across the table what answer he got for question #12 when he would much rather chunk a tater-tot at his friend 2 tables down? Who am I kidding? By the time they got to the cafeteria, nobody would even remember what question #12 was about!
And what usually happens after lunch? Recess, right? No, not on test day. God forbid letting them break a little tension and take a little mental break, right? First of all, the playground is much too noisy for classrooms that are nearby. Other classes are still testing at that time. Nevermind that the playground is as wide as 2 blocks. I'm sure that moving to an isolated corner of the playground wouldn't be too disruptive to the closest classrooms. But, who knows when a kid actually might care THAT much to actually SAY, "Tag, you're it, and by the way...don't forget to line up your decimals whenever you're adding or subtracting decimal numbers" to her playmate.
It's all just a little too "Soup Nazi-ish" for me. Some will pass. Some will fail. I can assure you though, that it will not hinge on whether little Johnny got the answer to question #12 from his friend in the bathroom, cafeteria, or playground.
It hinges on whether the kid actually cares THAT much to really LEARN when given the opportunity.
And of course, that onus lies mostly with the parents.
Sunday, April 27, 2008
I Know What Girls Like
My partner in teaching was telling me a story about one of our students the other day. Apparently, there was discussion going on in her class about what girls really like when it comes to boys. Well, she decided to set the record straight.
She asked them, "You really want to know what girls like?"
There was a hush in the room. Everybody wanted to know what she was going to say. And instead of using the opportunity to tell them that to find the perimeter of a shape, you add all the sides; and to find the area of a square or rectangle you multiply length by width, she actually told them (in her opinion) what girls like.
She told them that girls liked smart boys because smart boys are able to get good jobs. With their good jobs, the boys can put food on the table, buy a nice car, buy a house and just provide for the family.
But, one of our kids begged to differ.
He said, "Nuh uh, Mrs. Teacher. My uncle has a beat-up old mini-van and he has a hot-ass girlfriend!"
He didn't even realize that he had said the word, "ass." Neither did the class.
She should've just told them about perimeter and area.
She asked them, "You really want to know what girls like?"
There was a hush in the room. Everybody wanted to know what she was going to say. And instead of using the opportunity to tell them that to find the perimeter of a shape, you add all the sides; and to find the area of a square or rectangle you multiply length by width, she actually told them (in her opinion) what girls like.
She told them that girls liked smart boys because smart boys are able to get good jobs. With their good jobs, the boys can put food on the table, buy a nice car, buy a house and just provide for the family.
But, one of our kids begged to differ.
He said, "Nuh uh, Mrs. Teacher. My uncle has a beat-up old mini-van and he has a hot-ass girlfriend!"
He didn't even realize that he had said the word, "ass." Neither did the class.
She should've just told them about perimeter and area.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Excessive Celebration
If you're a sports fan, you've seen it before. Your football team is down 49 to 7. Two minutes left to go in the game. The other team has the ball. The next play is a running play and the runner is stuffed behind the line by one of your team's defensive players. Then the player that makes the tackle celebrates by doing a little dance, pumping a fist, or chest bumping one of his teammates.
Umm.. dude, its 49 to 7. If you had done that about 15 to 20 times throughout the game, maybe you would have a reason to celebrate. But, as it goes... you've only done it once, and once is not enough. You still lose. Dumb ass.
I bring this up because this idea, philosophy, idiocy (whatever you want to call it) has trickled down to the elementary school level. I'm not saying that there is a direct correlation between how pro athletes celebrate accomplishment and how our elementary school children celebrate accomplishment, but its amazing how similar it is.
Case in point: It is one day after a test. The tests have been graded and returned to the students. During class, I go over the test so that the students can get an idea of where they went wrong. Perhaps they can learn from their mistakes?
I reach question #9. The class pays attention to my expert instruction as I explain the strategies I used and the steps that I followed. When I arrive at the correct answer for the whole class to see, little Johnny lets out a whispered "YES!" accompanied by a subtle fist pump. It appears he got it right, and wants to let the whole class know that he is an expert in the particular area/objective that was addressed in question #9.
Unfortunately, little Johnny missed questions 1 through 8, and #10 as well for a score of 10%. But that doesn't phase Johnny. He is "in the moment". He is "king of the hill". He is master of the "improper fraction".
Dude, you made a 10. Chill out. If you had bothered to think through the other 9 problems, listen to your teacher a little more, or do your homework, you might actually have a reason to celebrate! But, as it goes.... you got one question right, and one is not enough. You still fail. Dumb ass.
Makes me want to pull my hair out. That's when you see the joint of my jaw pulsate through my cheek, as I wear down my teeth. That's when you see that vein pop out on my forehead.
I'm sure a lot has to do with the coddling that we do as teachers. This excessive praise for things that should be a natural occurrence is creating a generation of kids who are satisfied with being mediocre. Or even worse, sub-par.
Makes me want to throw up.
Please feel free to leave all of your positive comments below. All negative comments will be deleted.
Umm.. dude, its 49 to 7. If you had done that about 15 to 20 times throughout the game, maybe you would have a reason to celebrate. But, as it goes... you've only done it once, and once is not enough. You still lose. Dumb ass.
I bring this up because this idea, philosophy, idiocy (whatever you want to call it) has trickled down to the elementary school level. I'm not saying that there is a direct correlation between how pro athletes celebrate accomplishment and how our elementary school children celebrate accomplishment, but its amazing how similar it is.
Case in point: It is one day after a test. The tests have been graded and returned to the students. During class, I go over the test so that the students can get an idea of where they went wrong. Perhaps they can learn from their mistakes?
I reach question #9. The class pays attention to my expert instruction as I explain the strategies I used and the steps that I followed. When I arrive at the correct answer for the whole class to see, little Johnny lets out a whispered "YES!" accompanied by a subtle fist pump. It appears he got it right, and wants to let the whole class know that he is an expert in the particular area/objective that was addressed in question #9.
Unfortunately, little Johnny missed questions 1 through 8, and #10 as well for a score of 10%. But that doesn't phase Johnny. He is "in the moment". He is "king of the hill". He is master of the "improper fraction".
Dude, you made a 10. Chill out. If you had bothered to think through the other 9 problems, listen to your teacher a little more, or do your homework, you might actually have a reason to celebrate! But, as it goes.... you got one question right, and one is not enough. You still fail. Dumb ass.
Makes me want to pull my hair out. That's when you see the joint of my jaw pulsate through my cheek, as I wear down my teeth. That's when you see that vein pop out on my forehead.
I'm sure a lot has to do with the coddling that we do as teachers. This excessive praise for things that should be a natural occurrence is creating a generation of kids who are satisfied with being mediocre. Or even worse, sub-par.
Makes me want to throw up.
Please feel free to leave all of your positive comments below. All negative comments will be deleted.
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Career Day, part 2
In my last blog, I wrote about the wonderful experience of career day. However, something even more meaningful happened on that day: I got, "whoop-whooped." It's not every day that I get a "whoop-whoop." It left me feeling appreciated, liked, and respected.
One of the speakers was an assistant principal at a community college high school (a high school where students can earn dual credit towards a diploma and college coursework). He spoke in an auditorium filled with 4th and 5th graders. The main thrust of his speech was to get kids thinking about college. He asked them such open-ended questions like: "What does college look like?" and "What kind of people go to a college?". He presented these questions to the students and some volunteered their answers.
He complimented the students on their answers, but then put the call out for grown-ups (mainly us, faculty members) to come up to the mic and volunteer their opinions on his questions. I am not a public speaker. So, I sulked down into my chair. He picked one of my female colleagues, Ms. Teacher, to go up front. He asked her what kind of things you could learn about in college. She talked about what her major had been and talked about some of the other majors available. He asked her what college looked like and she talked about how her college was a small college, but how other colleges were huge.
When he was done with her, he then asked for a male teacher's thoughts. I slunk further. My fellow colleague, Mr. Teacher, was not at this particular assembly so I knew the odds were not in my favor. Since the auditorium was filled with 5th graders (most of them my students from last year) and 4th graders (most of my students from this year), things did not look good. There were 2 or 3 other male teachers in the auditorium, but there sphere of influence was minimal. They were bilingual teachers and only had one section of students for the current year and previous year. I had 5 sections last year and 5 sections this year.
Sure enough, I heard someone shout out, "Mr. Cater!" Then, someone else chimed in my name. Then, all collective eyes in the auditorium were on me. There was nowhere to hide. I succumbed and got up out of my seat and started walking to the front. That is when the "Whoop, whoops" started. I felt like Arsenio Hall. Kids started clapping.
It was a good feeling.
I felt....well......
"Liked."
Who doesn't like to feel that way? It was an ego-booster for sure.
The assistant principal (who looked and sounded a lot like Ray Romano) then asked me his college question: "What kind of people go to college?" I then proceeded to answer that people of all ages and races went to college. I went further into it than that, of course, but that was basically it. The kids had probably tuned me out the second I said, "People of all ......"
But, who really cares if they tuned me out or not?
I got "whoop whooped"!
One of the speakers was an assistant principal at a community college high school (a high school where students can earn dual credit towards a diploma and college coursework). He spoke in an auditorium filled with 4th and 5th graders. The main thrust of his speech was to get kids thinking about college. He asked them such open-ended questions like: "What does college look like?" and "What kind of people go to a college?". He presented these questions to the students and some volunteered their answers.
He complimented the students on their answers, but then put the call out for grown-ups (mainly us, faculty members) to come up to the mic and volunteer their opinions on his questions. I am not a public speaker. So, I sulked down into my chair. He picked one of my female colleagues, Ms. Teacher, to go up front. He asked her what kind of things you could learn about in college. She talked about what her major had been and talked about some of the other majors available. He asked her what college looked like and she talked about how her college was a small college, but how other colleges were huge.
When he was done with her, he then asked for a male teacher's thoughts. I slunk further. My fellow colleague, Mr. Teacher, was not at this particular assembly so I knew the odds were not in my favor. Since the auditorium was filled with 5th graders (most of them my students from last year) and 4th graders (most of my students from this year), things did not look good. There were 2 or 3 other male teachers in the auditorium, but there sphere of influence was minimal. They were bilingual teachers and only had one section of students for the current year and previous year. I had 5 sections last year and 5 sections this year.
Sure enough, I heard someone shout out, "Mr. Cater!" Then, someone else chimed in my name. Then, all collective eyes in the auditorium were on me. There was nowhere to hide. I succumbed and got up out of my seat and started walking to the front. That is when the "Whoop, whoops" started. I felt like Arsenio Hall. Kids started clapping.
It was a good feeling.
I felt....well......
"Liked."
Who doesn't like to feel that way? It was an ego-booster for sure.
The assistant principal (who looked and sounded a lot like Ray Romano) then asked me his college question: "What kind of people go to college?" I then proceeded to answer that people of all ages and races went to college. I went further into it than that, of course, but that was basically it. The kids had probably tuned me out the second I said, "People of all ......"
But, who really cares if they tuned me out or not?
I got "whoop whooped"!
Tuesday, December 4, 2007
Career Day
Happy December to my loyal readers (hi mom). I managed a big goose egg for blogs in November so I have vowed to at least write 3 or more for December. So, to begin... lets talk about November!
We had career day at my campus several weeks ago in November. It is always an interesting event to me for many different reasons. For one, I enjoy watching the children (4th graders, mind you) listen intently to the financial planner talk about his job. When my 4th graders ask such questions as: "At what age should I start considering putting away for my retirement?" and.. "Could you explain the intricacies of a Roth I.R.A?" I just swell with pride. There is nothing, absolutely nothing, more interesting to me than to watch my children participate and learn about the complex world of saving for retirement (while I yawn in the back of the room). Truthfully, I feel sorry for the financial planner. Next year, he has to say "NO" to this gig. High School: Maybe. Elementary School: N-O! He would have better luck talking to a brick wall.
Second, I enjoy the pilot. I always had interest in being a pilot as a kid. You can tell that this guy (this is his 2nd year) enjoys coming and talking to the kids. He talks about the importance of math, science, social studies, and reading and how they are all required skills for piloting an airplane (somehow I always knew that the Battle of the Alamo had something to do with the unfortunate incident with Payne Stewart's plane). I even learned something myself! Did you know that jet fuel is just basically a very high grade of kerosene? I honestly didn't know that. Yeah, it is a bit of useless knowledge. But, who cares? I always loved learning about planes. Guess I still do.
Third, there was the puppet show from hell. A librarian from the nearby branch came and talked to the kids about being a librarian. She did it with puppets, which seems like a foolproof method. But, then I remember one of my favorite all-time bad movies: Howard the Duck. When Howard the Duck wasn't a midget in a duck suit, it was a puppet at times too. Presentation is everything. If the puppet is supposed to be talking.... then the mouth should be moving (lesson #1 from puppeteering 101). If the puppeteer is talking, then the puppet's mouth should NOT be moving (lesson #2). And finally... the biggest faux paus in puppeteering: The puppet is there for entertainment and interaction with the audience. Its purpose is to get the kids engaged. I have a problem with the puppet whispering into the ear of the puppeteer because the puppet is "shy". Puppet, please! If the puppet is whispering into the puppeteer's ear, the students are smart enough to realize that nothing is coming out of the puppet's mouth. It's a cop out, plain and simple. By the way, does anyone else think that "puppet" is kind of a weird-sounding word? Read this paragraph over again out loud to yourself for verification on that!
Fourth, we had the "heroes" division: Police, Fire, and Military. Kids eat that stuff up. The Dallas Police Helicopter does a flyover and then lands on the playground. I absolutely love... err.. umm.. the kids really get a kick out of that. The helicopter sits powered down on the playground while the students walk by and look inside, talk to the pilot, and play with the tail rotor without permission. That's the embarrassing part. There's always a few in the group that want to play with the expensive machinery. I cringe every time I see a kid (usually not mine) playing with the tail rotor. I always wonder if I'm going to see that helicopter spinning out of control when it leaves a couple of hours later. Luckily it never does. Furthermore, we have the military represented as well. A guy from the "Young Marines" was there to do some "grunt" recruiting. I have to say though: the military is barking up the wrong tree at my school. Sorry to say it, but my fourth graders still don't have the concept of "right" and "left" securely stored away in their little brains. I don't know how many times I've had to say, "Your other left!" this year. I could see a comedy of errors erupting at the first "RIGHT FACE!!!" Last, but not least, we also have the firemen. We all know why they're there. They're the eye-candy. The females (professional and student) just have this glazed-over look in their dreamy eyes as they listen intently to Mr. Extinguisher talk about his job saving puppies and trapped babies. Hey, I can hold a hose and direct it at fire too. I just choose not to.
Anyway, Career Day was an enjoyable day for the students. They had the opportunity to learn about careers they're interested in (military, fire, police) and then they got to learn about careers to stay away from (librarian and financial planner). And, I got to learn more about helicopters and airplanes. It was just a win-win situation for all involved!
We had career day at my campus several weeks ago in November. It is always an interesting event to me for many different reasons. For one, I enjoy watching the children (4th graders, mind you) listen intently to the financial planner talk about his job. When my 4th graders ask such questions as: "At what age should I start considering putting away for my retirement?" and.. "Could you explain the intricacies of a Roth I.R.A?" I just swell with pride. There is nothing, absolutely nothing, more interesting to me than to watch my children participate and learn about the complex world of saving for retirement (while I yawn in the back of the room). Truthfully, I feel sorry for the financial planner. Next year, he has to say "NO" to this gig. High School: Maybe. Elementary School: N-O! He would have better luck talking to a brick wall.
Second, I enjoy the pilot. I always had interest in being a pilot as a kid. You can tell that this guy (this is his 2nd year) enjoys coming and talking to the kids. He talks about the importance of math, science, social studies, and reading and how they are all required skills for piloting an airplane (somehow I always knew that the Battle of the Alamo had something to do with the unfortunate incident with Payne Stewart's plane). I even learned something myself! Did you know that jet fuel is just basically a very high grade of kerosene? I honestly didn't know that. Yeah, it is a bit of useless knowledge. But, who cares? I always loved learning about planes. Guess I still do.
Third, there was the puppet show from hell. A librarian from the nearby branch came and talked to the kids about being a librarian. She did it with puppets, which seems like a foolproof method. But, then I remember one of my favorite all-time bad movies: Howard the Duck. When Howard the Duck wasn't a midget in a duck suit, it was a puppet at times too. Presentation is everything. If the puppet is supposed to be talking.... then the mouth should be moving (lesson #1 from puppeteering 101). If the puppeteer is talking, then the puppet's mouth should NOT be moving (lesson #2). And finally... the biggest faux paus in puppeteering: The puppet is there for entertainment and interaction with the audience. Its purpose is to get the kids engaged. I have a problem with the puppet whispering into the ear of the puppeteer because the puppet is "shy". Puppet, please! If the puppet is whispering into the puppeteer's ear, the students are smart enough to realize that nothing is coming out of the puppet's mouth. It's a cop out, plain and simple. By the way, does anyone else think that "puppet" is kind of a weird-sounding word? Read this paragraph over again out loud to yourself for verification on that!
Fourth, we had the "heroes" division: Police, Fire, and Military. Kids eat that stuff up. The Dallas Police Helicopter does a flyover and then lands on the playground. I absolutely love... err.. umm.. the kids really get a kick out of that. The helicopter sits powered down on the playground while the students walk by and look inside, talk to the pilot, and play with the tail rotor without permission. That's the embarrassing part. There's always a few in the group that want to play with the expensive machinery. I cringe every time I see a kid (usually not mine) playing with the tail rotor. I always wonder if I'm going to see that helicopter spinning out of control when it leaves a couple of hours later. Luckily it never does. Furthermore, we have the military represented as well. A guy from the "Young Marines" was there to do some "grunt" recruiting. I have to say though: the military is barking up the wrong tree at my school. Sorry to say it, but my fourth graders still don't have the concept of "right" and "left" securely stored away in their little brains. I don't know how many times I've had to say, "Your other left!" this year. I could see a comedy of errors erupting at the first "RIGHT FACE!!!" Last, but not least, we also have the firemen. We all know why they're there. They're the eye-candy. The females (professional and student) just have this glazed-over look in their dreamy eyes as they listen intently to Mr. Extinguisher talk about his job saving puppies and trapped babies. Hey, I can hold a hose and direct it at fire too. I just choose not to.
Anyway, Career Day was an enjoyable day for the students. They had the opportunity to learn about careers they're interested in (military, fire, police) and then they got to learn about careers to stay away from (librarian and financial planner). And, I got to learn more about helicopters and airplanes. It was just a win-win situation for all involved!
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