Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Awesome
You should really go here and watch all of the old school Sesame Street clips. I promise you, you haven't had that much fun sitting at your computer in a long time.
You have to wonder...
You have to wonder about your mental state when you choose to wash down your gas-x with diet soda.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Bitter much??
At my daughter's graduation last night, I ran into the parent of a former student. I had this student my very first year teaching, four years ago. I was teaching 6th grade math and science, and every teacher had to teach an elective. The teacher chose the topic of the elective, and I chose to teach the kids how to make sense of fractions using cookie recipes. We would spend a few days doubling or tripling a recipe, draw little cups and quarter cups of flour and sugar, etc. I called the class "Cookies 101." After we learned the math and figured out how much of each ingredient we needed, we actually made the cookies. It was a fun class, and none too difficult, I assure you.
So when I ran into this parent (who by the worked at the high school my daughter graduated from, so they knew each other) I said hi to her and then was talking to someone else. In the background I hear her say, "Cookies 101." I turned to her and said, "What? Are you talking about my old class?" She says, "That's the only class my daughter ever got a C in." She makes a C shape with her hand.
I wish I could have said what I was thinking... Lady. Get. A. Life. But I didn't. Instead I said, "How do you get a C in cookies 101?" Then I moseyed away. Really, I just think she needs to MOVE ON. I hope I never have to see her again.
So when I ran into this parent (who by the worked at the high school my daughter graduated from, so they knew each other) I said hi to her and then was talking to someone else. In the background I hear her say, "Cookies 101." I turned to her and said, "What? Are you talking about my old class?" She says, "That's the only class my daughter ever got a C in." She makes a C shape with her hand.
I wish I could have said what I was thinking... Lady. Get. A. Life. But I didn't. Instead I said, "How do you get a C in cookies 101?" Then I moseyed away. Really, I just think she needs to MOVE ON. I hope I never have to see her again.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
This can't be happening.
Well, here it is on the day of my daughter's high school graduation, and I am up at oh-dark-thirty. A nightmare woke me up and there was just no chance of going back to sleep.
I want to stay in bed all day. I don't want to do anything. I definitely don't want to go to work. I am packing up my classroom and getting ready to store all my teaching things in my garage once again. I am deeply depressed about having to start over at another school. This will be the 4th time in 5 years. There must be something wrong with me.
I helped graduating daughter with her salutatorian speech last night. She just needed a little assistance getting her thoughts down... the nervousness about giving the speech was getting in her way. I think in the end it will be a very good speech. She is so happy... I can tell that I am hurting her feelings because I am not happy with her. I am trying, I really am, but my God! You drop them off at Kindergarten and cry because you have to let them go, and in the blink of an eye they are 18, it's done, and you REALLY have to let go. Although I love and treasure the fine young adult she has grown into, I miss my baby.
She has stopped checking in with me regularly. She just understands that it's time now for her to live her own life. There was no conversation... it just happened. Part of me is thankful that we're normal, and the break is happening the way it is supposed to. But, I miss my baby.
I remember when she was born and they had to do a c-section after I had been in labor for over 24 hours. We were both so drugged up by the time she finally arrived that she didn't even cry. I remember being in recovery and trying to nurse her, and family kept coming in to see her. I understood their need to see her but I wished they would leave. I wanted those moments all to myself. If I had it to do over again, I would tell the staff that nobody could come in - NOBODY. I would keep those precious minutes all to myself.
The first night after she was born, I woke up in the early hours and she wasn't in her little bassinet next to my hospital bed. I panicked and called the nurse, and she brought the baby to me immediately. I was stunned that she must have been crying and I hadn't woken up... and very dismayed. What kind of mother would I be if I couldn't wake up when the baby cried at night? It wasn't until many years later that I realized the nurses must have swooped her up before she could wake me because I was recovering from surgery. I certainly didn't have to worry about not waking up... I could hear her sighing from another room. Something magical happens to a mother's hearing in those first few months.
As she grew up, I spent a lot of time simply stunned by her. She spoke her first word, "book," and held "Hop on Pop" up to me to read it to her. She embraced her little sister 14 months after she was born and I never saw a single sign of jealousy. She excelled in school from the get-go. She learned how to treat others well and how to control her temper. She figured out which kind of people she wanted to associate herself with, and who she would rather stay away from. She grew up.
She has made me proud all her life. Now she's off to find her own way in the world, and of one thing I am certain - she will continue to make me proud. Goodbye to your childhood, Jessica. I treasure every second it lasted. Thank you for being my daughter.
I want to stay in bed all day. I don't want to do anything. I definitely don't want to go to work. I am packing up my classroom and getting ready to store all my teaching things in my garage once again. I am deeply depressed about having to start over at another school. This will be the 4th time in 5 years. There must be something wrong with me.
I helped graduating daughter with her salutatorian speech last night. She just needed a little assistance getting her thoughts down... the nervousness about giving the speech was getting in her way. I think in the end it will be a very good speech. She is so happy... I can tell that I am hurting her feelings because I am not happy with her. I am trying, I really am, but my God! You drop them off at Kindergarten and cry because you have to let them go, and in the blink of an eye they are 18, it's done, and you REALLY have to let go. Although I love and treasure the fine young adult she has grown into, I miss my baby.
She has stopped checking in with me regularly. She just understands that it's time now for her to live her own life. There was no conversation... it just happened. Part of me is thankful that we're normal, and the break is happening the way it is supposed to. But, I miss my baby.
I remember when she was born and they had to do a c-section after I had been in labor for over 24 hours. We were both so drugged up by the time she finally arrived that she didn't even cry. I remember being in recovery and trying to nurse her, and family kept coming in to see her. I understood their need to see her but I wished they would leave. I wanted those moments all to myself. If I had it to do over again, I would tell the staff that nobody could come in - NOBODY. I would keep those precious minutes all to myself.
The first night after she was born, I woke up in the early hours and she wasn't in her little bassinet next to my hospital bed. I panicked and called the nurse, and she brought the baby to me immediately. I was stunned that she must have been crying and I hadn't woken up... and very dismayed. What kind of mother would I be if I couldn't wake up when the baby cried at night? It wasn't until many years later that I realized the nurses must have swooped her up before she could wake me because I was recovering from surgery. I certainly didn't have to worry about not waking up... I could hear her sighing from another room. Something magical happens to a mother's hearing in those first few months.
As she grew up, I spent a lot of time simply stunned by her. She spoke her first word, "book," and held "Hop on Pop" up to me to read it to her. She embraced her little sister 14 months after she was born and I never saw a single sign of jealousy. She excelled in school from the get-go. She learned how to treat others well and how to control her temper. She figured out which kind of people she wanted to associate herself with, and who she would rather stay away from. She grew up.
She has made me proud all her life. Now she's off to find her own way in the world, and of one thing I am certain - she will continue to make me proud. Goodbye to your childhood, Jessica. I treasure every second it lasted. Thank you for being my daughter.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Hey, dumbass, I'm trying to save the world here.
I just went to the grocery store, with my reusable bags, like I always do. My new year's resolution was to cut down my use of plastic as much as possible. I bought bags at Trader Joe's (who has really cute bags for 99 cents by the way, made out of recycled plastic, so there's really no excuse to be using disposable plastic bags, y'all) and I try to remember to use them for every store I go into. Anyway, I got up to the checkout and the cashier started ringing up my stuff. I said to the guy, "I have my own bags." He says ok, and then just keeps going. I can see the bagger putting everything in plastic bags, so I finish unloading the cart and get down to where she is and say, "I really don't want any plastic." She says, "Oh, ok," and takes the reusable bags I hand her, and then starts putting the plastic bags in my cart! I said "No, can we take them out of the plastic? I really don't want any plastic!" So now I'm holding up the line, and the dumbass cashier finally starts helping us take everything out of the plastic bags and put it in the reusable bags. Honestly. What a moron.
Friday, May 15, 2009
10 minutes in the life
Teacher: All right now, you all have chosen a career from the list, written down your annual salary, and just now we figured out what your paycheck will be every two weeks. Everyone's paycheck is different, because you have all chosen different careers. Now it's time to pay the man. First off, you have to pay 1.5% of your paycheck to the government for medicare.
Student: What's medicare?
T: Health insurance for when you get old.
S: I'm not old yet. Why do I have to pay it?
T: Because when you are retired, you won't be working, so you won't have health insurance. You are paying now so that the money is there when you get old.
S: Ok.
T: What is 1.5% of your paycheck? Well first we have to convert 1.5% into a decimal. Who remembers how to do that?
(crickets chirping)
T: All right, we move the decimal.....
(crickets chirping)
T: Two places.....
S: Oh! To the right!
T: No.
S: To the left?
T: Yes. So we have....
S: Point zero one five.
T: Good! Now on your calculator, each of you punch in YOUR two week salary, which is your paycheck amount. Then push TIMES. Then push point zero one five. Depending on your career, you should end up with somewhere between five dollars and 80 dollars.
S: Mine says zero point zero zero zero five six.
T: Does that make sense?
(crickets chirping)
T: How much money is that?
(crickets chirping)
T: Is it more than a dollar or less than a dollar?
S: Less?
T: Ok, let's try it again. Put your paycheck amount into the calculator.
S: This one?
T: No, that is your annual salary. How much do you make every two weeks?
S: This one?
T: Yes. Put that in. Now, put point zero one five.
S: But miss, when I do that it says zero point zero one five!!!
T: That's ok, because that's the same thing.
S: Oh yeah.
T: Now push equals. What does it say?
S: one two point two three six seven.
T: How much money is that?
S: This is money?
Student: What's medicare?
T: Health insurance for when you get old.
S: I'm not old yet. Why do I have to pay it?
T: Because when you are retired, you won't be working, so you won't have health insurance. You are paying now so that the money is there when you get old.
S: Ok.
T: What is 1.5% of your paycheck? Well first we have to convert 1.5% into a decimal. Who remembers how to do that?
(crickets chirping)
T: All right, we move the decimal.....
(crickets chirping)
T: Two places.....
S: Oh! To the right!
T: No.
S: To the left?
T: Yes. So we have....
S: Point zero one five.
T: Good! Now on your calculator, each of you punch in YOUR two week salary, which is your paycheck amount. Then push TIMES. Then push point zero one five. Depending on your career, you should end up with somewhere between five dollars and 80 dollars.
S: Mine says zero point zero zero zero five six.
T: Does that make sense?
(crickets chirping)
T: How much money is that?
(crickets chirping)
T: Is it more than a dollar or less than a dollar?
S: Less?
T: Ok, let's try it again. Put your paycheck amount into the calculator.
S: This one?
T: No, that is your annual salary. How much do you make every two weeks?
S: This one?
T: Yes. Put that in. Now, put point zero one five.
S: But miss, when I do that it says zero point zero one five!!!
T: That's ok, because that's the same thing.
S: Oh yeah.
T: Now push equals. What does it say?
S: one two point two three six seven.
T: How much money is that?
S: This is money?
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
A-S-WHO?????
I thought this site must be either mistaken or full of it when they said that ASU had refused to give President Obama an honorary degree when he speaks at the commencement later today. But then I found out it is true!!! Every ugly word! What the hell?! He should have gone to the U of A instead. There, we know how to treat people. Especially people who also happen to be President Hottie.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Down for the count
Something is very wrong... after a day and a half of antibiotics my parotitis is worse, not better. Of course the doctor said that it would take 72 hours before they start to really work, so I'm probably jumping the gun. But the other side is starting to hurt, which freaks me out. Is there a chance I actually have the mumps? I don't see how. When I looked parotitis up on the internet, one of the causes is a compromised immune system, which I probably had after the half-marathon. Another cause is several different strains of flu, so it could be I just have to wait it out. I'm probably just being a big baby.
Saturday, May 09, 2009
Sacrifice
I guess I'm just a bad mom. When it comes to the true sacrifices, I just can't cut it.
I have an infection and inflammation in my parotid gland, which in layman's terms means my head and neck freaking hurt. I want nothing more than to stay in bed. I don't even want to eat. So the timing is great because it's my oldest daughter's senior prom, and it's my youngest daughter's choir awards banquet. Early this morning I went with the oldest daughter to take her car through emissions testing. Then we went shopping because I needed something decent for the awards banquet. We came home and I crashed for two hours. Then I got up and did hours of fingernails, toenails, make-up and hair. Finished just in time to get myself and youngest to the awards banquet. Youngest daughter did not sit with me during dinner so I had to make stupid small talk with the other parents, whom I don't even know or care about. Got through the dinner and then the extremely annoying, conceited, self-important choir teacher got up to make her speech. She stepped up to the microphone and said, "Hello," and it was very loud. The volume was up too high. Then she says, "That's what happens when you have your master's degree in vocal performance. You learn to project!" Vomit. Seriously. She said she wanted to tell us about her experience teaching our kids in their choir classes. She started her speech with, "The first day of school..." I thought it was a joke but it wasn't!!! She talked for 45 minutes nonstop about the school year. When that was over, she started giving out awards. Award after award after award. When youngest daughter had received all of the awards she told me she would get, I asked her if she could find a ride home. She asked the girl next to her, who said yes, and I said I just had to go back to bed. I could not sit and listen to that woman talk for another two hours, which was the time the banquet was scheduled to end. So, like I said, when it comes to the tough sacrifices I just can't hack it. I came home, took a bunch of drugs, went to bed, and started blogging instead. Soon I'll be asleep and it will all be a distant memory.
I have an infection and inflammation in my parotid gland, which in layman's terms means my head and neck freaking hurt. I want nothing more than to stay in bed. I don't even want to eat. So the timing is great because it's my oldest daughter's senior prom, and it's my youngest daughter's choir awards banquet. Early this morning I went with the oldest daughter to take her car through emissions testing. Then we went shopping because I needed something decent for the awards banquet. We came home and I crashed for two hours. Then I got up and did hours of fingernails, toenails, make-up and hair. Finished just in time to get myself and youngest to the awards banquet. Youngest daughter did not sit with me during dinner so I had to make stupid small talk with the other parents, whom I don't even know or care about. Got through the dinner and then the extremely annoying, conceited, self-important choir teacher got up to make her speech. She stepped up to the microphone and said, "Hello," and it was very loud. The volume was up too high. Then she says, "That's what happens when you have your master's degree in vocal performance. You learn to project!" Vomit. Seriously. She said she wanted to tell us about her experience teaching our kids in their choir classes. She started her speech with, "The first day of school..." I thought it was a joke but it wasn't!!! She talked for 45 minutes nonstop about the school year. When that was over, she started giving out awards. Award after award after award. When youngest daughter had received all of the awards she told me she would get, I asked her if she could find a ride home. She asked the girl next to her, who said yes, and I said I just had to go back to bed. I could not sit and listen to that woman talk for another two hours, which was the time the banquet was scheduled to end. So, like I said, when it comes to the tough sacrifices I just can't hack it. I came home, took a bunch of drugs, went to bed, and started blogging instead. Soon I'll be asleep and it will all be a distant memory.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Time doesn't fly
Every day at work seems to last forever this week. It's a combination of my excitement for this weekend's trip to Newport Beach, plus the kids have end-of-school-itis which makes life kind of miserable. Yesterday they were complaining because I am still making them do work, and I just have all these tricks to make them work, and they can't wriggle out of it. So I said well, then complain to your parents, and then have your parents complain to the principal, and maybe we'll all get lucky and she'll fire me. Or I have another idea, start a petition. One of them says, "No offense Ms. P, but we already tried that." I about bust a gut laughing. Of course I already knew about the petition but none of them had ever copped to participating before.
On a down note, it looks like this will be one of those weekends where bringing work home with me is unavoidable. The kids are taking their placement test for next year, which will decide whether they qualify for the high-school credit algebra class or regular 8th grade algebra. The principal wants the lists ASAP so I have to get those tests graded. The good news is that I will only grade the kids who have a shot at actually qualifying for the HS algebra class, so out of 120 students I'll only grade about half their tests. I can also grade during the day while they are testing, so hopefully there won't be much left to do at the end of the day.
On a down note, it looks like this will be one of those weekends where bringing work home with me is unavoidable. The kids are taking their placement test for next year, which will decide whether they qualify for the high-school credit algebra class or regular 8th grade algebra. The principal wants the lists ASAP so I have to get those tests graded. The good news is that I will only grade the kids who have a shot at actually qualifying for the HS algebra class, so out of 120 students I'll only grade about half their tests. I can also grade during the day while they are testing, so hopefully there won't be much left to do at the end of the day.
Monday, April 27, 2009
Idiot Men
Yesterday was my last longish run before the half marathon. I was going to go 5 miles. I planned a downhill route because the first 5 of the marathon is downhill and I wanted to see what it was going to feel like and how fast I could do it. Anyway it was all a huge mistake, and I realized in the first 5 minutes that I had pushed way too hard yesterday and I was probably not going to finish the 5 miles, much less go fast. But I didn't have my cell phone and it didn't occur to me to turn around and go home, so I just struck up a slow and steady pace and before long I was doing ok. I was miserable but holding up.
The whole time I have been training for this half marathon in the area where I live, there has been almost a complete lack of the kind of behavior I used to put with in Phoenix when I went walking or tried to run. The behavior I speak of is people driving past in cars and throwing things out of their windows, or hollering at me, swerving in my direction, etc. I was so pleased with the fact I hadn't had to deal with any of that, and I thought how much nicer Tucson is than Phoenix. Until yesterday.
I was already having a bad time, and about 2 miles or so into the run a truck drove by in the opposite direction and someone hollered. I am not sure what they said but I'm pretty sure it wasn't flattering. Then I got to the part of the route that I have never run on before. It's down a kind of busy road but there is plenty of dirt on the side of the road to run in. I was hobbling along and right behind me a car slams on their brakes hard enough to send a large puff of smoke right in my face and make a sound loud enough to scare the living daylights out of me. Then they drove off laughing.
There have also been positive things happen on my runs. I get thumbs up, people honk and wave, fellow runners go by and wave and sometimes smile.
Here's the thing: My experience has been that whenever someone is rude it has been a younger male or males - late teens to twenties. Every single time. The hollering. The throwing of objects out the window. The guy at the Domino's who wouldn't give me water. Yesterday with the screeching tires. Every. Single. Time.
The women are the ones that honk and wave. When a fellow woman runs by, she is the one that smiles at me. (There is a man every now and then too, and they have always been my age or older.)
So I wonder why these men (and I use the term loosely) behave this way. Is it because they see a 200-lb woman, out of her element and clearly struggling, but successfully doing something tougher than they have ever done in their pathetic lives? Is it because they still mentally operate like 12-year-olds and they still have the childish need to feel superior, and the only way they can do that is to make someone else feel bad? Maybe they just have small dicks? Maybe they just are small dicks. I don't know. What I do know is that those are the times I see the meanest behavior my little corner of the world has to offer. And it happens at the times in my life when I am most vulnerable - huffing and puffing down that road under the power of my own two feet, sweating and pushing myself every step of the way.
But, the bottom line is, a little encouragement goes a very long way. And the meanness, well, it's just never going to break me.
The whole time I have been training for this half marathon in the area where I live, there has been almost a complete lack of the kind of behavior I used to put with in Phoenix when I went walking or tried to run. The behavior I speak of is people driving past in cars and throwing things out of their windows, or hollering at me, swerving in my direction, etc. I was so pleased with the fact I hadn't had to deal with any of that, and I thought how much nicer Tucson is than Phoenix. Until yesterday.
I was already having a bad time, and about 2 miles or so into the run a truck drove by in the opposite direction and someone hollered. I am not sure what they said but I'm pretty sure it wasn't flattering. Then I got to the part of the route that I have never run on before. It's down a kind of busy road but there is plenty of dirt on the side of the road to run in. I was hobbling along and right behind me a car slams on their brakes hard enough to send a large puff of smoke right in my face and make a sound loud enough to scare the living daylights out of me. Then they drove off laughing.
There have also been positive things happen on my runs. I get thumbs up, people honk and wave, fellow runners go by and wave and sometimes smile.
Here's the thing: My experience has been that whenever someone is rude it has been a younger male or males - late teens to twenties. Every single time. The hollering. The throwing of objects out the window. The guy at the Domino's who wouldn't give me water. Yesterday with the screeching tires. Every. Single. Time.
The women are the ones that honk and wave. When a fellow woman runs by, she is the one that smiles at me. (There is a man every now and then too, and they have always been my age or older.)
So I wonder why these men (and I use the term loosely) behave this way. Is it because they see a 200-lb woman, out of her element and clearly struggling, but successfully doing something tougher than they have ever done in their pathetic lives? Is it because they still mentally operate like 12-year-olds and they still have the childish need to feel superior, and the only way they can do that is to make someone else feel bad? Maybe they just have small dicks? Maybe they just are small dicks. I don't know. What I do know is that those are the times I see the meanest behavior my little corner of the world has to offer. And it happens at the times in my life when I am most vulnerable - huffing and puffing down that road under the power of my own two feet, sweating and pushing myself every step of the way.
But, the bottom line is, a little encouragement goes a very long way. And the meanness, well, it's just never going to break me.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
I gave away the cheesecake...
but I ate two pieces before I did it. Then I ordered pizza for dinner and had two pieces plus a cheesy breadstick. Then jellybeans. Oh and a couple of 100-calorie packs of baked cheetos, and a small bag of potato chips that I had sitting around from a trip to Beyond Bread. I ate until I was sick. I couldn't stop myself. I don't know what to do.
I really hope for a better day today. I hate to see myself undoing all of my hard work. But my final paycheck is drawing near, the extra expenses keep coming in, and I'm not sure how we'll make it through the summer. So I eat.
I really hope for a better day today. I hate to see myself undoing all of my hard work. But my final paycheck is drawing near, the extra expenses keep coming in, and I'm not sure how we'll make it through the summer. So I eat.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Progress
Yesterday in math class my students had a problem where they were relating two variables to each other. For example, if you wanted to explain the relationship between the number of hours spent watching tv and grade point average, you would say that as the number of hours spent watching tv increases, the grade point average decreases.
One of the problems was relating the cost of a long distance phone call to the length (in minutes) of the phone call. Some of my students were flummoxed. One of them said, "I just don't know what this even means." I had to explain to them that in the olden days, before cell phones, when you wanted to call someone who lived far away it was called long distance. The further away they lived, the more money it cost to talk to them. The phone company charged you per minute. It's not like today where you just dial your cell phone and a minute is a minute no matter who you are calling.
I felt about as old as dirt.
One of the problems was relating the cost of a long distance phone call to the length (in minutes) of the phone call. Some of my students were flummoxed. One of them said, "I just don't know what this even means." I had to explain to them that in the olden days, before cell phones, when you wanted to call someone who lived far away it was called long distance. The further away they lived, the more money it cost to talk to them. The phone company charged you per minute. It's not like today where you just dial your cell phone and a minute is a minute no matter who you are calling.
I felt about as old as dirt.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
the sweetest
I just want to make sure everyone has seen this. It is just one of the sweetest things I have ever seen. It moves me to tears every time I watch!
Saturday, April 04, 2009
Pink Slips
A bunch of teachers in my school district got pink-slipped yesterday. Three teachers at my school were included but I don't know who they are. All I know is there were a bunch of upset-looking teachers walking around yesterday.
I am not sure anyone knows how many of the teaching positions in my district, especially math and science, are filled with temporary teachers. When we read the news articles and statements from the district, and comments from anyone and everyone, nobody ever mentions the temporary teachers. They are talking about teachers who are on permanent contract with the district, who are being laid off. It's scary because it's a double whammy and nobody knows about it. Along with the teachers being laid off, there are at least twice as many temporary positions, probably more, and then factor in the people who are retiring or leaving the district for other reasons. There will be 40 kids per classroom next year, and fourth grade teachers will be teaching 8th grade math because they have seniority with the district. Is this really the best we can do, Arizona?
I am not sure anyone knows how many of the teaching positions in my district, especially math and science, are filled with temporary teachers. When we read the news articles and statements from the district, and comments from anyone and everyone, nobody ever mentions the temporary teachers. They are talking about teachers who are on permanent contract with the district, who are being laid off. It's scary because it's a double whammy and nobody knows about it. Along with the teachers being laid off, there are at least twice as many temporary positions, probably more, and then factor in the people who are retiring or leaving the district for other reasons. There will be 40 kids per classroom next year, and fourth grade teachers will be teaching 8th grade math because they have seniority with the district. Is this really the best we can do, Arizona?
Thursday, April 02, 2009
I don't heart teaching
I've been having a hard time with one of my students. No big deal - comes with the territory. It's never even about me, it's about whatever else is going on in their lives, that manifests itself in the classroom. Especially with the kids whose parents aren't doing their jobs. The classroom is the only place they are held accountable for behavior and they don't like it. They usually take it out on me. It's part of the job. They're 12. Right? This particular child has a very bad situation. He lives with his father, who literally doesn't give a shit about him. His mother lives in Phoenix, but she's the one we are supposed to communicate with. The kid is an absolute basket case. He bullies and harasses the other kids. He is incredibly disrespectful to adults. He is one of those that thinks he is the class clown, and does stupid things to get attention but instead of laughing the other kids roll their eyes.
His mother is just downright nasty. Since the kids is constantly in trouble, the emails fly back and forth like crazy. (She is deaf, so that is her preferred means of communication.) Every single email we send to her is responded to with excuses about his behavior, and accusations and insinuations about why it's our fault, not his.
On Monday this kid had a very bad day in my class. He hates the class (it's an elective and we do calculator stuff or current events) so every single day he asks to go somewhere as soon as the bell rings. After a few days of this I just started saying, as soon as you are done with your work, you can go. Monday, the kids had just come in from lunch and I was getting them their calculators and their assignments, and this kid asks to go to the bathroom. I gave him my stock response for right after lunch - no, you can't go to the bathroom/get a drink/ use the phone/ talk to the counselor, you just had lunch. You have to do that kind of stuff on your own time. Well, he didn't like that one bit. He asked again, and this time I said, yes you can go - just do your work first and I will let you go. He asked again and I ignored him. He asked over and over again, his voice getting louder and louder, and finally got up with his things and left the room. I just said, don't come back. I wrote a referral, and sent an email to my team, the administration, and his mother, telling exactly what happened. We moved on with class, as always, like nothing happened.
Yesterday I got to work and was greeted with a nasty email from the mother, of course. She made some excuses, and then said that there was one thing she thought was particularly inappropriate. She said that her son told her as soon as he left the room, a friend of his told him that I was talking about him after he left and saying that he was just doing this for attention. She said she thought it was totally unprofessional and who would do that, talking about a kid after they left the room? Opinions like that should be kept in the teacher's lounge, not the classroom, she said. She said the kids are making fun of her son, saying that he does things just for attention. (I wonder if it occurred to her that this doesn't even make sense - the only people that would have heard me, had her son been telling the truth, were still in the classroom. He left alone, so how could a friend tell him anything?)
I responded to all and said I wasn't sure where this came from... we had resumed class as if nothing had happened, and all I had said to him was that he couldn't come back. If the other kids are making fun of him, then it is probably because they are witness to his behavior every day. I said that if she had any doubts about her son's behavior, or my behavior for that matter, she should come and observe my classroom before she jumped to conclusions. I said I work way too hard for my students to be spoken to and treated in this manner.
My entire teaching team, all three of them, replied to all and said that if this kid continues to have excuses made for him, nothing will change; that we are professionals and have been trained to work with kids; that the only person responsible for this kid's behavior is this kid. Parent replied with the same accusation, again with a rude tone, which I just deleted.
This is where it gets nasty. At lunch I found, in my mailbox, an article about how important it is to build relationships with middle school students. Somebody anonymously put it in my box. As if I didn't know that I need to have good relationships with my students. As if I haven't written papers on the subject. As if no matter what is happening, I am not doing enough. My team backed me up, so I know it wasn't one of them. It had to have been either the principal or assistant principal. I tend to think it was the principal. When a kid does something rotten and gets kicked out of class, her response is to sit with them in her office and give them warm fuzzies until their mood improves. Whatever - that is her decision. I, however, am a math teacher. I am not going to stop class and give warm fuzzies to some jerk who is disrupting, and take even more time away from the other thirty-something kids that need to learn their math, so that their mood will improve. I don't really care about their mood. It's math class, not kindergarten.
I sat the kid down after that and had a little chat. I told him exactly what his mother said - that he told her a friend told him that I was talking about him after he left the room. He says no, no, this happened a long time ago. Another teacher said she wouldn't sit me in the middle of the room because I would just try and get everyone's attention. My mom got it mixed up. I then told him that his mom said kids were making fun of him, saying he does things for attention. He said nobody is making fun of him. I said, are you sure? Because we can't have people bullying you. He said he was fine, nobody was bullying him. I said, if someone was, would you tell an adult that could help you? He said yeah. I typed up the transcript of the interview and it's in my computer.
This whole time, I have been thinking about some of the best advice I ever read - If you don't know what to do, don't do anything. So I haven't done anything. I thought, maybe I am overreacting. I will feel better tomorrow. But I don't feel better. I feel betrayed. When I started at that school in October, those kids HATED me. They had got through the entire first quarter of school without having to do anything in math. Now all of a sudden they had to be on time, act right, work the whole class period, and do homework. When they acted like an idiot, they got sent to the office with a referral. They absolutely could not stand me. They complained to the other teachers incessantly. They wanted the sub back.
There are 130 of them. At this point I would say that at least 110 of them like me. A few don't care about anything, but they don't cause me any grief. Then there is that small percentage that I have never been able to reach.
I think that for the administration to expect me to build relationships with all 130 kids, given the situation I came into, is a superhuman feat. The bottom line is that someone, probably the principal, agrees with this kid's mom that it's the teachers, not the kid. Not the kid's situation in life, which we have no control over. Not the kid's behavior, which we have no control over. So I guess I am supposed to just let him disrupt the class at his discretion, let him go wherever he wants, not make him do his work, etc. so that I can have a good relationship with him. There's just one problem - that's not a good relationship. That's the same relationship he has with every other adult in his life, who does not call him out on his crap. I refuse to be one of those adults.
His mother is just downright nasty. Since the kids is constantly in trouble, the emails fly back and forth like crazy. (She is deaf, so that is her preferred means of communication.) Every single email we send to her is responded to with excuses about his behavior, and accusations and insinuations about why it's our fault, not his.
On Monday this kid had a very bad day in my class. He hates the class (it's an elective and we do calculator stuff or current events) so every single day he asks to go somewhere as soon as the bell rings. After a few days of this I just started saying, as soon as you are done with your work, you can go. Monday, the kids had just come in from lunch and I was getting them their calculators and their assignments, and this kid asks to go to the bathroom. I gave him my stock response for right after lunch - no, you can't go to the bathroom/get a drink/ use the phone/ talk to the counselor, you just had lunch. You have to do that kind of stuff on your own time. Well, he didn't like that one bit. He asked again, and this time I said, yes you can go - just do your work first and I will let you go. He asked again and I ignored him. He asked over and over again, his voice getting louder and louder, and finally got up with his things and left the room. I just said, don't come back. I wrote a referral, and sent an email to my team, the administration, and his mother, telling exactly what happened. We moved on with class, as always, like nothing happened.
Yesterday I got to work and was greeted with a nasty email from the mother, of course. She made some excuses, and then said that there was one thing she thought was particularly inappropriate. She said that her son told her as soon as he left the room, a friend of his told him that I was talking about him after he left and saying that he was just doing this for attention. She said she thought it was totally unprofessional and who would do that, talking about a kid after they left the room? Opinions like that should be kept in the teacher's lounge, not the classroom, she said. She said the kids are making fun of her son, saying that he does things just for attention. (I wonder if it occurred to her that this doesn't even make sense - the only people that would have heard me, had her son been telling the truth, were still in the classroom. He left alone, so how could a friend tell him anything?)
I responded to all and said I wasn't sure where this came from... we had resumed class as if nothing had happened, and all I had said to him was that he couldn't come back. If the other kids are making fun of him, then it is probably because they are witness to his behavior every day. I said that if she had any doubts about her son's behavior, or my behavior for that matter, she should come and observe my classroom before she jumped to conclusions. I said I work way too hard for my students to be spoken to and treated in this manner.
My entire teaching team, all three of them, replied to all and said that if this kid continues to have excuses made for him, nothing will change; that we are professionals and have been trained to work with kids; that the only person responsible for this kid's behavior is this kid. Parent replied with the same accusation, again with a rude tone, which I just deleted.
This is where it gets nasty. At lunch I found, in my mailbox, an article about how important it is to build relationships with middle school students. Somebody anonymously put it in my box. As if I didn't know that I need to have good relationships with my students. As if I haven't written papers on the subject. As if no matter what is happening, I am not doing enough. My team backed me up, so I know it wasn't one of them. It had to have been either the principal or assistant principal. I tend to think it was the principal. When a kid does something rotten and gets kicked out of class, her response is to sit with them in her office and give them warm fuzzies until their mood improves. Whatever - that is her decision. I, however, am a math teacher. I am not going to stop class and give warm fuzzies to some jerk who is disrupting, and take even more time away from the other thirty-something kids that need to learn their math, so that their mood will improve. I don't really care about their mood. It's math class, not kindergarten.
I sat the kid down after that and had a little chat. I told him exactly what his mother said - that he told her a friend told him that I was talking about him after he left the room. He says no, no, this happened a long time ago. Another teacher said she wouldn't sit me in the middle of the room because I would just try and get everyone's attention. My mom got it mixed up. I then told him that his mom said kids were making fun of him, saying he does things for attention. He said nobody is making fun of him. I said, are you sure? Because we can't have people bullying you. He said he was fine, nobody was bullying him. I said, if someone was, would you tell an adult that could help you? He said yeah. I typed up the transcript of the interview and it's in my computer.
This whole time, I have been thinking about some of the best advice I ever read - If you don't know what to do, don't do anything. So I haven't done anything. I thought, maybe I am overreacting. I will feel better tomorrow. But I don't feel better. I feel betrayed. When I started at that school in October, those kids HATED me. They had got through the entire first quarter of school without having to do anything in math. Now all of a sudden they had to be on time, act right, work the whole class period, and do homework. When they acted like an idiot, they got sent to the office with a referral. They absolutely could not stand me. They complained to the other teachers incessantly. They wanted the sub back.
There are 130 of them. At this point I would say that at least 110 of them like me. A few don't care about anything, but they don't cause me any grief. Then there is that small percentage that I have never been able to reach.
I think that for the administration to expect me to build relationships with all 130 kids, given the situation I came into, is a superhuman feat. The bottom line is that someone, probably the principal, agrees with this kid's mom that it's the teachers, not the kid. Not the kid's situation in life, which we have no control over. Not the kid's behavior, which we have no control over. So I guess I am supposed to just let him disrupt the class at his discretion, let him go wherever he wants, not make him do his work, etc. so that I can have a good relationship with him. There's just one problem - that's not a good relationship. That's the same relationship he has with every other adult in his life, who does not call him out on his crap. I refuse to be one of those adults.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
AIMS
Well it's that time of year again... an entire week of testing for the kids. They are dreading the testing but seem excited about the new schedule because things will be different for a week. They sure love novelty. I hate AIMS week because it's so boring. I can't get any work done because I have to watch the kids so closely, to make sure they aren't texting. So I just sit and watch, for two hours, every day. Ugh.
Friday, March 27, 2009
Temper, temper!
I lost my temper with one of my students yesterday. He comes in every day and just sits there at his desk. He can't even be bothered to take out a piece of paper and a pencil. This is a trigger for me. If the kids can't even make the effort to try, I get really aggravated and feel like they are wasting my time. I go to the trouble to make good, accurate, valid bellwork questions. I go to the trouble to find the best resources, the ones that will best prepare them for AIMS and for their future in math. So it's really a trigger for me when they won't do their part. I have lots of kids who don't do their part, but they at least pretend, because they don't want me coming after them. Well this kid is just baiting me. He's doing it on purpose, to make me mad. The first thing I did when I realized this was move him to the back corner of the room and decided to ignore whether or not he was trying. Earn your F quietly, that's my motto. But then he started talking, because he could see that just sitting there wasn't going to get me mad anymore. So I start giving him a warning, and then when he doesn't stop talking, I move him to the back table so he is alone. He often refuses to move, talks back constantly, makes faces like he just can't understand why I am such a bitch to him. I kick him out more often than not because I don't get paid enough to babysit this little piece of shit. His mom lives in another city and is constantly badgering me about why her precious son is failing. He lives with his dad who we have never been able to actually contact. Clearly this kid has no supervision. it's a sad situation, and if he didn't get under my skin so much, I might be able to form a relationship with him and try to teach him to act right. But I can't. I can't stand him. So yesterday I told him to move to the back table, and he started talking back and didn't move. So I counted to three, and finally he started getting up his stuff, talking back, so disrespectful the whole time. The thing he says most often is, Oh my god. So I said it back, Oh my god. He said it again, and I said it again. I was mimicking him. So this went on for about four rounds, and I said, you just don't learn. He said, I don't care, so what? I said well, you just don't learn. You know what that makes you? I was hoping he would understand that I was calling him a dumbass, but all he said was, I don't care, so what? This entire exchange was in front of the rest of the class. It was so unprofessional. I get the feeling though, that this kid thinks he can act however he wants to me, and say whatever he wants to me, and I have to be nice to him. That's just not the case... if a student is rude to me, they get rude right back. If a student starts rolling eyes and making faces, I do it right back to them. This has never failed me before... once I start mirroring a student, they stop immediately and do whatever it is I wanted them to do. But this kid enjoys seeing me get mad. I have to stop getting mad.
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