Happy St. Patrick's Day

Every once in awhile, something happens that reminds me why I like this job of mine. And usually, 90% of the time, that reminder comes from a 10-year-old. Kids are really pretty simple and innocent when it comes right down to it (even the low-socioeconomic, minority children attending an urban district like mine). Not all, mind you, but most.

This past Friday was our last day of school before our highly-anticipated spring break. But, before we could get on with the day at hand, my class and I had to have an official ceremonial observance of St. Patrick's Day. The holiday, unfortunately for the kids, falls in the middle of spring break week (which is a big plus for this green-beer-drinking blogger, I might add). We had discussed the week prior that Friday, March 9th, would be our official "observance". Of course, I had slept since then and had no recollection of the discussion. But, kids: They may not remember the difference between finding the area of a rectangle and finding the perimeter of a rectangle, but they will remember the revised St. Patrick's Day observance date.

The very first thing in the morning, I had kids pinching each other and trying to pinch me. Thankfully, they were kind enough to give me a warning and some grace time to see if I could find anything green to attach to my body. I finally found a green overhead pen and made a few green marks on my hand to stop the pinching attempts. It was a nice little bonding moment with these kids.

I haven't had too many moments like that this year. I blame that on the ridiculous first-semester-1-hour block schedule that we had in place. It was assembly-line education. I didn't get to interact with these kids on anything more than a formal level. There wasn't any time for nonsensical stuff like an early St. Patrick's Day observance. If I deviated from my plans even just a little, the "brains" on the assembly line would pass me by without getting the "parts" that they needed, like in that famous "I Love Lucy" episode. I'd eventually end up shoving "brains" down the wayside or putting them in my pocket or down my shirt, like a zombie trying to horde his food for later consumption.

They are just kids. Sometimes it is so easy to lose sight of that when your so busy trying to cram all the stuff that they "need" to know inside those little heads in one hour's time. And sometimes, they need something other than what is written in the district's curriculum planning guide. Sometimes they just need to be kids.

What's in the air? (besides sleet & snow)

Today will definitely go down as the worst day ever in my teaching career. What was wrong with these kids today? It's like they've pulled a Lon Chaney Jr. on me (and they weren't all that good before the "werewolf syndrome"). These little elementary "angels" were anything-but angels today. First off, the overall talking level has just been completely overboard this week. Maybe one reason was: they were holed up in a classroom all day Tuesday taking a field test for TAKS. So, Wednesday and Thursday have been a release for them. It's almost like they think the test was the actual "biggie". They are so relieved that its all over and they think that they can relax now. Sorry, kiddos!

The real straw, however, was the last two periods of the day. One of my co-workers had to leave early for something today (can't remember what, but it was legitimate). The substitute cancels or is a no-show, and we can't get a teacher assistant to come cover her class. So, we split up her kids into the remaining class sections of our level. I got a bad mix. They pushed my buttons. It really is true what they say about how just 2 to 4 kids can really ruin the dynamics of a class. The class was working on these individual mini-projects and I just had too many kids getting out of their seats and talking to others in different parts of the room. And they weren't talking about what they were working on either. It was not "accountable talk" and it was not "socializing intelligence". It was just socializing. Socializing on a level I have not quite seen before. Kind of like the nuclear bomb of socializing. Busy little birds, these children were...and it couldn't be stopped. Until I yelled.

I'm not a yeller. It just strains the throat and they eventually learn to tune it out. I am very calm with the children. I always seem to have a good rapport with all my classes. It is a good balance of mentor, friend, funny uncle, and teacher. If a kid isn't doing what they are supposed to do and they've had several chances to respond to correction, I have a "firmer" voice that I use, but that volume is about as far as I've gone in a long time. Today, the decibel level I've grown accustomed to using with my kids was surpassed. I yelled. They got quiet. I reamed. They stayed quiet.

When I give a class reprimand, I always throw in the "and I know it's not all of you" line and the "if you're one of the ones that are making good choices, then thank you so much" line for the ones that are doing what they are supposed to do. Believe it or not, some students are "perfect" in that sense. They respond appropriately to an authority figure and they behave appropriately in class. They don't deserve to be hollered at. I make it a point to let them know that. Today I tried to let them know that too. Because, amidst all the chaos, you could see them trying to do their work, trying to not get involved in the hubbub, trying to be good. You could see them trying to keep their noses to the grindstone, while their eyes would occasionally scan the room to see the storm brewing. They knew a storm was brewing. I gritted my teeth and counted to ten in my head, but nothing could stop the vein that bulges in the middle of my forehead when I am stressed or angry. I'm so sorry they had to see that part of me. I've maybe had to yell like that three times in my eleven years as a teacher (and they were all in my first one or two years). Today was a new low for what has truly been a very stressful year.

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.

Put That Carrot Where?

Last Friday (the 15th) was the last day of school before the students (and teachers) embarked on winter break. I usually look forward to that last day in anticipation of all the "interesting" gifts that I get from my students.

This year, however, I was not. With a class filled with 85% boys (70% of whom are just waiting to mug me later on in life), I knew that this was going to be a blue Christmas. I was not expecting anything nor was I giving out anything... Don't get me wrong. There have been years where I have doled out the gifts. Great kids deserve great gifts. This is not one of those years. I wouldn't spend money on charcoal for this group of ne'er-do-wells.

Anyway, as expected, the day was going exactly how I had forseen it. No gifts, and to be totally honest, I was fine with that. Later on in the afternoon though, one of Mr. X's kids dropped by and gave me an envelope with a card in it. "For me?" I asked. She nodded yes, and I thanked her. She went on to deliver that same card (she must've bought a box of them) to every other 4th grade teacher on the wing. "That's nice," I thought to myself. She wasn't even one of my students, yet she was thoughtful enough to get a card for all of the 4th grade teachers. I didn't even know her name. She was one of the bilingual students, and by the way, if you don't know, 90% of the bilingual students are not eagerly anticipating on mugging anybody, ever.

Most of these kids have been in the US for less than a year, and they are the sweetest, most well-intentioned group of kids a teacher could ever want. Their parents are also filled with good intentions, but of course, aren't the best at English either (which is where the card comes back into the picture). Her mom must have based her purchase solely on the cuteness of the card, because she sure didn't read it. You can see the front of the card, pictured above.

Click here to read the inside of the card. By the way, she didn't sign it... so maybe she did know what it all meant! If you're not laughing, you might have to read it again. Some people didn't quite get it on the first reading!