House of Zathras

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…my students have none.

No, I take that back. I do have some very polite students.

But the boys…PEE ON THE TOILET SEAT!!! Gaaahhhh!

And we talk about it the first week of school. I ask them to imagine their mother going in and sitting down where they’ve urinated. Or if they need to sit, and sit in someone else’s urine. (Frankly, the kids just don’t know how to think of others. It’s a curse of today’s society.) This year’s boys are having a hard time remembering to put up that seat!

I do have them use the terms ‘urine’ and ‘flatulence’, etc. Kids don’t giggle as much with medical terms versus ‘common’ terms. Most of the time kids haven’t heard those words before, but in Mrs. Who’s class we try to rise above the lowest common denominator.

Earlier this week, a girl came out of the bathroom, all upset about the yarn on the toilet seat. I was puzzled, wondering if the yarn had come from the necklaces the kids get the first week to match their bus assignments. I was in the middle of working with a group of kids and couldn’t get over to the upset girl immediately. And she just kept getting louder and louder about the yarn on the seat.

Then it hit me…she was saying ‘urine’. It was all I could do not to laugh as I went over to help take care of the ‘yarn’. Bless her heart…she probably hadn’t heard the word ‘urine’ until my class, and was doing her best to remember how to pronounce it!

Teaching isn’t just a job anymore, it’s an adventure. An adventure that a pith helmet and machete can’t help.

*sigh*

Scene: Back door of Mrs. Who’s classroom, where a class is emerging. A strange scent hangs in the humidity-laden air…remnants of repeated attempts to eliminate the wasp population in the eaves of the building.

Student 1: (making a face) What’s that smell?

Student 2: That’s the cafeteria.

Student 1: Oh.

(more…)

You mean I have to go BACK to school tomorrow? With students?

Are you sure?

Damn…I was afraid of that.

You see…Friday was awful. Just awful. We had this terrible storm hit mid-morning (and it’s been raining ever since…which means no recess for a few days because the playground will be a sodden mess). But this storm was loud and full of lightning. Which struck the fire alarm system. Which has this loud, piercing, deafening repeated shrill.

And I was proud of my students…they immediately jumped up as we had practiced for fire drills. But since the storm was so terrible, and knowing that the lightning had most likely set off the alarm, I had the kids wait. While the fire alarm is flashing and emitting its deafening warning. The kids have their hands clapped over their ears…because the damn alarm hurts!

But sure enough, an announcement comes over the intercom to stay in the rooms. And then an announcement comes to leave the room…for the cafeteria. They have turned off the alarm, but an automatic notification goes to the local fire department and they have to check it out. And the buildings that have an alarm notification HAVE to be evacuated during the firemen’s inspection.

Which means we walk out under metal awnings to the cafeteria. During the electrical storm. Yeah.

So we sit in the cafeteria for about 30 minutes before we’re allowed back in our building. And since it’s getting close to lunchtime, the kids have a hard time paying attention. However, we plow ahead with our reading lesson, then wash up for lunch.

Recess after lunch is naturally an indoor affair, because of the still-horrible weather. I let the students work at various centers. Three little girls choose to work with magnetic letters, which are to be used to practice spelling words.

Until one of the three girls comes to tell me that the other two are spelling ‘bad’ words. In the course of the investigation, it turns out that the first girl who tattled was the one who started spelling the bad words.

By this time, I’m wanting to say my own bad words. Ho. Ly. Crap.

The second week will be better, right? Right?

*sigh*

Friday is ALMOST here! Which means I’ve just about made it through the first week with students.

Good news: The screamer has stopped screaming. And is proving to be a remarkable student! The counselor said that the kid’s mom is really happy with how I’ve handled the kid. I’ve told the counselor that it’s because the crazy kids spend time with me and realize that I’m crazier than they are, and get really, really scared by that fact. Being crazier than the crazies makes for a good behavior plan.

Bad news: The Fire Marshal wants us to spray anything paper on our walls with fire retardant, and then only 20% of the wall can be covered by said paper-type products (posters, word walls, rules, kids’ work, school standards…everything the district tells us MUST be on the walls or it will be counted off during our observations!). I’m not worried, however. Because I have no real ceiling above my room…we can see straight up to the slanted metal sheeting of the roof…and it’s a very, very, high ceiling. So therefore, my walls go up about two or three times as much as an ordinary room…meaning the posters et al on the walls are within the bastard’s 20% ratio, mwuh-haaa-haaa-haaaaaa! (I need Blog-Mama Bou to use her Math-Wonder-Brain to tell me an actual formula to shove under the fire-marshal’s nose when he comes to ‘inspect’.) Oh, did you know they’ll actually do a flame test if they ‘feel the need’? Yeah, fine example to the kids…burn up the work they proudly have displayed on the wall!

Not that I’m against the kids’ safety of course. Just everyone trying to tell us teachers what to do, be it the Fire Marshal, the principal, the district, the math coach, the reading coach, NCLB, the general public, the parents, the government, etc., etc., etc.,…and the goals don’t often mesh and it’s ALWAYS the teachers’ fault when it doesn’t. But when it comes to fires, we teachers can handle it. I had a teacher friend who attended a conference down in the Orlando area when there was an actual fire. The teachers all trooped out in an orderly and quiet manner, even carrying out a wheel-chair bound man who was staying at the hotel. The firemen were pretty dumb-founded at the orderly manner in which they evacuated, and laughed when they found out it was a bunch of teachers!

But it has been a draining week. I have at least three kids who no longer can live with their parents, one ‘drug-baby’, one former home-schooled child who doesn’t have any grasp of phonics, one kid who couldn’t keep still if you duct-taped the child with three rolls, and some girls who think school is for others to be quiet while they visit.

*sigh* But *I* control the important things: recess and ‘Fun Friday’. I. HAVE. THE. POWER!!!!! (bonus points if you’re old enough to remember the origin of that phrase!) Mean ol’ Mrs. Who had the class practice walking in a straight, quiet line in the hallways instead of being out at recess. And Fun Friday is down to 20 minutes out of the original 45…with heads will be down on the desks for the 25 minutes they’ve ‘lost’.

By next week, I’ll have one of the best-behaved classes in the school. It gets to where all I have to do is raise an eyebrow, and the students get an ‘oh, shit’ look on their face and settle down. I’m a real bitch at the beginning of the year…but then I don’t fight the behavior as much the rest of year. You can’t teach if you’re fighting behaviors. So it’s the time for bud nippin’. Yep.

Otherwise known as Mrs. Who’s first day with the students. And yes, indeed, I have a screamer…who is also a runner. And it’s not me. That will come later in the year.

Just when is the next school holiday?

The first day of school for my students is tomorrow. I’m excited. And concerned. It looks like I’m going to have some, ahhh, challenges this year. Good thing I like challenges. Like the kid who stole money last year from the teacher’s purse. Or the kid whose mother didn’t even say ‘boo’ to me at the Meet and Greet…or bring any supplies, either.

Anyway…

This weekend I’ve had to make curtains for the window in the back door of my classroom. Back in February, the painters destroyed the blinds that I used to have on it. I requested new blinds then, and then again at the beginning of this year. No blinds…so I made curtains (thanks to BR who bought the material for me!!). But we have to have something over the window so prospective thieves can’t see in, and for lockdowns.

I didn’t get absolutely everything done that I wanted. I tried to be done by Friday, but since Buck had YM on Saturday, I figured I could hit the school while I had to be out anyway and tie up any loose ends.

BR went with me to help with some of the more tedious aspects of labelling supplies. We were almost done when the damn fire alarm went off. We were told over the intercom that officials were just working on the system. I had a bag of foam ear plugs that I shared with BR and a couple of other teachers there, but then 15 minutes later we were told to EVACUATE!!!! The firemen were on their way!!! And they had to get into the upper level of MY building!!

So…we left. The work wasn’t done. It won’t affect what I need to do with the kids tomorrow, but it’s bugging me that it’s unfinished.

Oh, well…better the alarm screw up on Saturday, than on the first day of school. But we teachers have learned to be flexible…it’s the only way to get through the year. And there’s always stories to tell in the process of the funny and weird things students do.

Any interesting first day of school stories out there???

It’s been a very busy week at school getting ready for the new year. While I work in the room, I usually have the tv on for background noise…I don’t work well in silence. (“But Moooomm! I really do my homework better in front of the tv”…yeah, that was me, and it WAS true!)

Somehow the cable service was messed up, and most channels were snowy and full of static. So I brought some DVDs from home to fill the noise void.

Earlier today a mom registered her child who was put into my class. The mom asked to speak with me about several concerns with her child. (She was there almost an HOUR!!!!) The mom started walking out, when she stopped to stare (I thought) at the spelling words on a chart. I started to explain the process of choosing the words, when all of a sudden she turned and said in an excited voice, “So you like Firefly!!!????” I realized then she wasn’t staring at the chart, but rather at the tv on the file cabinet next to the chart…the tv wasn’t on, but the Firefly DVDs were tucked behind the tv. I laughed and affirmed my affinity for the show, and she went on, saying that their cat is even named ‘River’ for Summer Glau’s character. So maybe the Mom will feel a connection and a little bit more relaxed about her kid starting school. Shiny!

Don’t get me wrong…I’m very grateful I have a job. A job, aside from the regulations, that I do enjoy. Working with my students on most days brings a smile to my face.

But it effin’ pisses me off when people think teaching is a ‘cushy’ job. Work 8 to 3:30, several holidays and summer vacations. Nothing to it, right? God, how I wish!!!

If you think that, then I DARE you to spend a week with a teacher. I won’t get into the minutiae yet. I’ll be doing that as the school year progresses.

Today was officially the ‘first’ day back at school for teachers. But in the previous two weeks, I’ve put close to 40 hours into preparation for the school year. 40 UNPAID hours. One ‘regular joe’ work week WITHOUT pay. Would you do that for your job? No over time, no comp time, just time GIVEN to my job. This week I’ll probably work 10-15 ‘extra’ hours on top of the contracted hours. Before the students even come back. When they do come back next week, I won’t be leaving at ‘quittin’ time’. There’s always so much to do. Tonight, for instance, I spent two hours online completing mandatory training for safety, security, and sexual harassment awareness requirements.

Yeah, I could work the contracted hours and no one could say anything.

But it’s not enough for me. Because my job is just not about me…it’s about children. About helping them to become more, become better, to grow up. It’s an awesome, fearsome, and happy responsibility.

And for anyone who thinks that kind of responsibility requires no thought or preparation is a sorry-ass loser. Yeah, I called you a name. Puerile of me, wasn’t it? But that’s the only credit an ignorant detractor deserves. Sure, there are lousy teachers out there…sucking at the union’s tit and whining about their Viagra. But most teachers aren’t like that…there are jerks in every job type. You always remember the jerks, right, not the quiet workers who day after day effectively do what they’re supposed to do. And don’t go by teachers you had in school…you were looking at them through a kid’s eyes. Go back, volunteer for a week, and see it from a teacher’s perspective. A grown-up perspective. If I’m willing to give so much ‘extra’ time, surely you can too since teaching is such a ‘cush’ job, right?

And as it’s the beginning of the school year, I do want to thank you parents out there who send your kids ready to learn. You read to them, talked with them (instead of on your cell phone), set routines, and taught them how to behave in public. Parents are the first and MOST IMPORTANT teachers a child can ever have. You set the standard for their future learning. Thank you for giving them expectations that will make wonderful students and even better adults.

Now, I’m off to have my chocolate wine and then to bed, since I have to get up before the crack of dawn. Good-night.

Personally, I don’t see anything wrong with making high school students clean toilets as part of detention. It would be a strong deterrent for whatever behavior landed them there in the first place. If nothing else, it would give them ‘life skills’…because if they keep up their shenanigans, then cleaning toilets is what they might have to do for a living.

Kudos to that principal!

School’s Out for Summer – interpreted by Mrs. Who

Well we got no choice
(Neither do we teachers. The powers that be have taken away virtually all the teacher input.)
All the girls and boys
(Just shut up and sit down…we’re unhappy about this as you are!)
Makin’ all that noise
(Yeah…really proud of the sound of your own self, hunh?)
‘Cause they found new toys
(What…I thought you liked working on the Smartboard.)
Well we can’t salute ya
(That kind of ‘salute’ will get you a referral, anyway.)
Can’t find a flag
(Yes you can in MY room!)
If that don’t suit ya
(Doesn’t matter…my room, my rules!)
That’s a drag
(You try teaching someone like you and see what’s really a drag!)

School’s out for summer
(Thank God!)
School’s out forever
(Heh, you and I both wish)
School’s been blown to pieces
(Nope…and that threat will get you arrested, too!)

No more pencils
(What do you care…I had to buy all your pencils for you anyway because your parents either wouldn’t or couldn’t. You’re welcome.)
No more books
(Like you read them anyway? Remember your test scores?)
No more teacher’s dirty looks
(Again…you try teaching someone like you and not give dirty looks.)

Well we got no class
(You can say that again!)
And we got no principles
(Yeah…you run whining to mommy every time you think something’s not fair…all that ‘spare the rod’ business is a perfect example in you.)
And we got no innocence
(Yeah, just look what modern technology has done to you…it’s a damn shame.  There was a time when ‘Dick and Jane’ was the way you learned to read…not an introduction to prono.)
We can’t even think of a word that rhymes
(You could if you paid attention in school!!!!)

Out for summer
(OMG – YES!)
Out till fall
(Not actually…hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you actually come back in late summer.)
We might not go back at all
(I should be so lucky.)

School’s out forever
(Yeah, yeah…wish for that in one hand, crap in the other, and see what gets filled up first.)
School’s out for summer
(So what…can’t go to the beach because of the frikken’ tar balls and oil disaster.)
School’s out with fever
(WTH? How can a school have a fever? Didn’t you pay attention during the Living/Nonliving chapter in Science?)
School’s out completely
(You think you left quickly on your last day of school? You should see it when the teachers get to leave on their last day. Don’t stand in their way and hope none of them are wearing high-heels…those leave nasty marks on the ones too slow to get out of the way.)

*****************
It was my last day of school today…I’m sure you couldn’t have guessed!!

How many lockdowns did we have at school yesterday? How many????

Two. Two friggin’ lockdowns. One early in the day with the kids there. Wound up with THREE classes of kids in my room. One of the teachers across the hall was out and the sub didn’t have the key to lock the room. Which means the teacher next to her isn’t safe either because the rooms have a connecting office. Believe me, I have bitched before about it…all it would take is a simple reversing of each teacher’s office door handle so she can lock it where it can’t be accessed from the other room. But NOOOOO…no one listens to me.

Anyway, as we secured the rooms and settled the kids, I got the one weapon I’m able to have…wasp spray. The kind that sprays 20 feet. If someone breaks in the door, I don’t have to be near them to do something. I used to keep an old axe handle nearby, but that could be turned against me. The wasp spray could seriously cause vision problems, and hopefully I could throw desks at the intruder, push over a file cabinet on him, anything.

When I grabbed the wasp spray, I didn’t let the kids see what I had. I kept it in a plastic bag, and just slid it out a little bit. Of course, the lights were out so they wouldn’t have seen it easily. But they didn’t need to see it in case I DIDN’T use it, so they wouldn’t know what I had and where I kept it. The two other teachers didn’t even notice me get anything.

After about 10 minutes, we got the all-clear.

Until the end of the day. I had just walked my kids to the buses and was going to the office. Then one of the office ladies tells me to run and stop the walkers. Running in the hallway, yep. But the kids had already gone. And then we went on another lockdown.

And no real details on the cause.

The hard part is explaining to the students why we had to have a lockdown without scaring the bejesus out of them. And it’s damn scary worrying about protecting those kids. The ‘what ifs’ run through your mind at break-neck speed. I even envision getting all the kids into the bathroom if necessary…no windows in there, and it locks from the inside. I play scenarios if the intruder is coming in from the front door, the back door, a window, the connecting office…and each time I have to envision how to stop him while at the same time protecting the students.

Gaahhh. What a way to wrap up the school year.

22

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Two students came to me today, drawing my attention to a fellow student who was drenched in tears.

This particular little girl is a waif of a child…a ragamuffin in many ways. Her family doesn’t have much money. We have sent home clothes and shoes, but rarely does she seem to wear the same thing twice…clean, anyway. The girl herself is always clean, but somehow, she is always wearing old hand-me-downs. I keep a supply of hair accessories and a brush at school. Again, her hair is always clean, but not brushed neatly or ever styled.

And she was in tears today. Because she had just found her pet…dead.

Her pet slug. Yep, you read that right. She had brought her ‘pet’ to school in a jar, and we put it in a small bug container. And somehow, during the day, the damn thing died. Shriveled up and stuck to the side of the container.

And this girl is in tears. She even asked to take the tissue box with her on the bus because she was crying so hard. I told her she could take three individual tissues and she could be my partner on the way to the buses.

The poor little girl doesn’t have much…a slug for a pet…dammit.

We had a meeting today. Again. About crap for next year.

I was already pissed (read previous post), so I was only paying half-ass attention. We second grade teachers have commandeered the table that’s back in the corner, behind a pillar and a largish plant, so we don’t have to look directly at the speakers. On the table today were two stuffed animals left over from an earlier library function with the kids.

One was a soft, brown teddy bear. The other was this off-white whale. I grabbed the teddy bear, lay him on his back on the table, and started punching his nose with my fist. Mrs. L, who is an animal lover, whispered loudly that it wasn’t the right way to take out my frustration. I made a face at her, and pounded poor Teddy again. Mrs. L’s entreaties became even louder, insisting I give the bear to her so she could show me the right way to do it. I gave Teddy one more good punch and then passed it over to her, whereupon she cuddled it and glared at me. I immediately grabbed the whale and stabbed him with the back end of my pen. The four other teachers had stopped watching the meeting completely to see what Mrs. L and I were doing. Mrs. T took both the bear and the whale from us and piled them haphazardly on the table next to her, out of our reach.

Then we stared at the pile of stitched-up fluff. The bear was on top of the whale.

“He’s giving the bear a ride,” whispered Mrs. T.

Then she reached out and jiggled the whale’s tail. And yes, the teddy bear rocked forward and back on the whale’s stuffed hump…and they continued wiggling together with animalistic contortions for a few seconds, looking for all the world like they were…well…mating.

So much for the meeting…all of us second grade teachers were lost in conniption fits of snorts and giggles, hands pressed over our mouths, unable to fully contain the hysterics we all were experiencing.

And yes, Principal Umbridge, High Inquisitor, did see us. Because later, Mrs. L raised her hand to ask about on of the sheets of paper we had received. Principal Umbridge sniffed and said she had already talked about it.

Heh. I’ll take inter-species mating rituals over a stupid meeting any damn day.

…that whenever the kindergarten kids come out to the playground, the hawks start circling overhead.

…can’t come soon enough.

And I don’t know who’s more ready…me, or my students!

Yeah, it’s going to be a long, long six weeks.

We have ‘Fun Friday’ in my classroom. Students who have done their work and met their reading goals get about 45 minutes of free play at the end of the day. Legos are a steady enthrallment to a small group of boys in my class.

My collection of Legos is bits and pieces left over from my own kids’ younger days, with mixtures of all sorts of models. The students love digging to the bottom of the large container and finding unique odds and ends to put into their own creations.

Today, a boy happily danced over to me, exclaiming over a piece he had just found.

Boy: Look, Mrs. Who, I found a horse’s head!

Me: Indeed…what are you going to do with it?

Boy: I’m going to put it into my house I’m building.

Me: In the house?

Boy: Yeah, in the bedroom!

Me: *blink, blink* (shades of ‘The Godfather’ are going through my head)

Boy: (dancing back to his Lego-house) Yeah, just like my Dad did.

Me: *blink, blink, mouth dropping open*

Boy: He puts deer antlers up in the bedroom, and I’m going to put up the horse’s head.

Me: Isn’t it time for the dismissal bell yet???

****************************
(bonus points if you know the title reference without having to look it up)

I love the counselor at our school. She’s been a wonderful personal support through all my years of turmoil. I just wish High Inquisitor Umbridge would let her work with kids again with group counseling. Oh, no, it’s more important that the counselor test the kids and be free to do car duty and stuff. Yeah.

Anyway, the counselor came up with a great idea to help some of us with stress relief. We’re kind of doing a ‘sewing-bee’ and are going to make some cute handbags. Eight of us met at the fabric store to pick out the materials we would need. That was fun in and of itself…matching the fabric and trim work and helping others do the same is enjoyable for us sewers. SEW-ers, not sewers. Then we had lunch together. In a restaurant, with a waiter…not in a stark white cafeteria filled with screaming kids and pieces of lunch and spills of milk on the floor.

In two weeks, we meet again to do the actual sewing. And then go to lunch together. In a restaurant, with a waiter…not in a stark white cafeteria filled with screaming kids and pieces of lunch and spills of milk on the floor. I swear, one day the teachers are going to start a food fight, just because the stress is getting to us! I just wish I could go out in style, like Fred and George Weasley did in HP: Order of the Phoenix. But in the book, not the movie. The movie simply did not do justice to the mayhem and swamp that the twins left behind them.

But all in all, it’s good to have co-workers with whom you can get out and have fun. Simple, harmless, middle-aged fun (just don’t count the time another teacher and I went unknowingly into a gay bar…ahem.)

.

What. A. Day.

Actually, it started yesterday. Yesterday, the painters came to my room shortly before dismissal and told me they would be starting the next day. They would start moving stuff right after the kids left. I told them that would be fine, but I needed to get a few things I would need for the next two days for the room in which I would be in during the painting. The bell rang at that point. I told them I had to take the kids to the buses, and would return in ten minutes to get what I needed.

I came back in ten minutes…and they already had all the desks, shelves, computers, books, EVERYTHING moved to the center of the room. All pushed in together. And I had no time to go through trying to find the things I needed because I had a student meeting to go to. Which lasted a freakin’ hour and a-half!!!! So I was too worn out to search through the piles of stuff to get what I needed.

When I got to school this morning, I had to hustle the kids to get their books out of their cubbies to take to the PE room. That’s right, the PE room…our temporary abode during our painting hiatus. They had desks in there for us. Desks and chairs at a height for KINDERGARTNERS! I have second graders, some of them repeaters, who are way, way too big for the desks. I couldn’t adjust the chairs, but I could adjust the desks. Got the kids set up in some independent activities, and started turning a wrench. And who ever put the desks together did it WRONG!!!! The legs are attached to the desk with a set of metal plates. Plates which have tabs to slide into slots on the legs to keep them from slipping down. Every single one of the plates was on the wrong way!!! So I spent almost 40 minutes of the damn day adjusting desks. My hands got tired, I guess, and at one point the wrench flew out of my hands and hit me. In the face. And I said “shit”. Not loudly, not vehemently…more in surprise than anything. But I know…I KNOW at least three kids heard me.

So…we finally get the desks adjusted, and settle down to some REAL lessons. Not just learning inappropriate vocabulary. I wanted the kids to be settled so we could take an important comprehension test. Just as I was passing out the test papers, in comes some workers to install a SmartBoard in the room. So then we had the banging and buzzing of electric tools. ARRRGGGHHH!!!!!

Later, the kids were working quietly when I heard a buzzing, slightly rumbling noise. It was coming from the other side of the partition. Since the kids were working quietly, I peeked around the divider, trying to pinpoint the sound. It was one of the coaches, holed up in the corner, taking a nap. No fair. I was worn out!! And I think the kids knew I was going 90-to-nothing today. Right before dismissal, I sat down to fill out the behavior sheets and was calling the kids up one at a time to pick up their papers. One kid took his and remarked, “Mrs. Who, this is the first time you’ve sat down today!”

Yeah. That kind of day.

My new Haitian student? Gone. Without my being able to say goodbye.

Seems the ‘evaluator’ for the ‘ESOL’ (English for Speakers of Other Languages) deemed my student’s older brother ‘not proficient’ in English. So now they’re going to be bussed out of their home neighborhood to a school that ‘specializes’ in the remediation of the English language. Among mainly children who speak Spanish and Vietnamese. Yeah, that will be really good for building their English. These kids aren’t speaking French/Haitian/Creole. Accented English yes, with different cultural implications. But supposedly their English will improve by being among non-English speakers!!!!

And get this…when this evaluator came to the school to screen my student, I was asking her about some situations I’d experienced with my student (see my previous post). The woman said she had no idea. I said something to the effect of the belief systems being a combination of traditional African beliefs and Catholicism. She looked at me and said, “Well, you know more about it than I do.” And SHE made the decision that the boys would be better off at the other school to build their language skills.

Maybe it will. But these boys already spoke English AS THEIR NATIVE LANGUAGE!!!!. My student was really opening up and interacting and laughing with the other students. He was asking and answering questions in class.

I am just heart-broken about this student leaving. I don’t think it was right what they did…I’m sure the cultural differences affected the outcome of the test…I’ve experienced that in California and in Texas.

And they called him into the office while we were at recess with no damn explanation. I call to check on him, and was told he’s gone. Just like that.

It ain’t right. And you know what else???? It’s FTE week. It’s the week we do a ‘special count’ to see how much funding schools get from the government. The more kids in ‘special services’, the more funding the district gets. I’m sure putting two kids into this ‘special’ program will get the district some extra money.

It’s a bunch of crap.

It’s been an experience getting to know my new student from Haiti. Anybody know much about Haitian culture? I require my students to be polite and use good manners. However, this little boy doesn’t say ‘ma’am’. With his accent, it sounds like he’s saying some kind of ‘yeah’…but it might be the normal polite reply. I’m not requiring him to say ‘ma’am’ because I worry that it would be subservient in the Haitian culture (due to the history of slavery there). He is polite in all other aspects, like saying ‘thank you’ when he gets something.

When the class came in from PE today, another boy had been apparently talking to ‘Henri’ about Haiti. My American student told me that Henri’s mother had died, but not in the earthquake. I asked Henri if he wanted to talk about his mother (since he had already said something to this boy), and he said his father told him not to. I did ask why, and he said because then his mother would come into his dreams.

Wow…talk about cultural differences. It also shed a whole new light onto a news clip I saw last week about a young Haitian mother who had lost three children. The stupid news reporter asked her if she had buried her children. She replied, ‘No…I just tossed them aside. I go on living’. At first I thought it was the shock making her so callous. But now I believe it’s something to do with their belief systems about death.

This is so different from the American view of ‘talking it out’. I worry that this boy is feeling lost and scared but won’t say anything because of his upbringing. I’m not trying to change his upbringing…I just don’t want him to feel alone.

But if anyone knows anything or a resource I can use to understand the culture, please let me know. Thank you.

It has been a long crappy day at work. It is report card week, with all the data collation that implies. I was also supposed to be getting ready for an important meeting tomorrow concerning a student’s academic progress. There was paperwork involved with that process, too. I was hoping to finish that work after school, only to find out I had yet another meeting pop up out of nowhere. So it meant that I had one event to attend immediately after school, then go pick up Princess No when her school let out, then go back to my school to finish up paperwork.

I had a headache that wouldn’t stop, and I was hungry. Hoping to finish up and get out, I made one last call to the counselor to clear up some information for tomorrow’s meeting. That’s when she told me “Oh, you’re back at school? You’re probably going to be mad at me.” Of course I asked ‘why’, and she told me that she had asked for a new student to be placed in my classroom. Of course I asked ‘why’ again. She replied, “Because this new student will need a certain type of teacher, and I narrowed it down to you and another one. But the other teacher lost her husband last year, and this kid’s situation might touch too close for her.”

The kid’s situation? He’s from Haiti. Yeah.

So I rushed to the front office to see about getting some supplies. I hate getting a new kid unannounced, because I want to have at least a desk nameplate ready. It’s hard enough for a kid to go to a new school…I try to be as ‘ready’ for them as possible, so they feel they had a place ready for them…not standing alone watching the teacher having to hustle to get a desk, books, etc.

When I got to the office this kid was still there with his godfather. So I got to meet him, and show him our classroom and the school. He’s quiet, bless his heart. But his accent is sweet!

If I had left school ‘on time’, I wouldn’t have known about this new student until I walked into work tomorrow…20 minutes before kids start arriving. My ‘late’ day at school was actually a gift that placed me in the right place to hopefully give this kid a nicer start to his first day of school.

But I’m scared. This kid has witnessed something I can’t really comprehend. What do I do FOR him to help make it easier for him? The kid has not only seen his home destroyed, he’s had to leave his country. I can’t comprehend that series of upheavals and losses. I’m not really sure if his parents are alive or not.

God bless the dear little boy.

Every time I see the movie ‘Rudy‘, I wind up crying at the end.

Maybe it’s just the empathy for another short person. Or maybe it was tears of excitement today because Princess No said she would consider going to Notre Dame. I just can’t keep bugging her about it, she said.

Shhh!

Had my formal observation today. The principal prefaced the after-evaluation briefing with, “You know there are many things we have to do with these evaluations that aren’t necessarily a whole view of a ‘normal’ day in the classroom. Certain things that are required by district regulations, but they might not be a true reflection of realistic experiences.”

Me: “You mean it’s really a Dog and Pony Show?”

Principal Umbridge: *purses lips* Now, I didn’t say that. It’s not a Dog and Pony Show. But there are requirements to be met. And today, you didn’t use the word ‘objective’ in the lesson presentation.

Me: *blink, blink*

Me: You mean saying, ‘Our focus today’ or ‘Now we’re going to discuss’ or something similar doesn’t mean the same thing? I must use the word ‘objective’?

Principal Umbridge: *nodding emphatically* The students have to learn that term because they have to learn various objectives for the standardized state tests. Otherwise, they won’t know what they’re supposed to be learning, and they’ll ignore you.

Me: *blink, blink*

All I could think as I left was, ‘Who pissed in her glass and called it apple juice????’

Don’t be surprised if there is a teacher shortage in the not-so-distant future. The focus on the minutiae instead of the big picture of the students’ real needs is going to kill the teaching profession.

I just can’t pull it together. I don’t know if it’s the holiday stress, work stress, or family stress.

I just want to run away. But I can’t. I did skip a meeting after school today to try to straighten up my room. I have an evaluation on Monday, and I want things to look nice. But when I started sorting one pile, it led to moving it to yet another pile, which led to finding another pile, until I was really just walking circles around the room. I’ve resigned myself to having to go to school on Saturday to get things done.

And sometime in January, I’ll be forced out of my classroom for a few days while maintenance paints my room and puts in a drop ceiling. Which means everything has to be pulled off the walls, removed from my storage area, put in a pile in the middle of the room, and then my class goes to a portable with no computers or smart board or centers or classroom library for at least two days. AND I have a technology conference in Orlando the 12th – 15th of January. What do you bet the painting and conference occur in the same week?????

And I just had to pay $500 to get new tires and brake work done on my SUV. And the dog had to go to the vet…add $117 to unplanned expenses.

So with all that hanging over my head, I skipped the meeting. It was just my fellow grade level teachers, and thankfully they understand. They won’t ‘report’ me. But I couldn’t face one more requisite of my job or my life. I get up at 5:30 every day, bust my ass trying to meet all the increased requirements of education these days, take my daughter to and from school, run errands, cook dinner, try to get some computer time to unwind, do laundry, try to do some more school work, and wind up in bed around 11:00 PM. I’d like to go to bed earlier, but I’m just too ‘antsy’…so much crap is running through my mind I can’t relax. And if I manage to go to bed earlier, I tend to wake up after five hours of sleep and then can’t get back to sleep. But I’m too tired to get up and do anything.

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Let’s change the direction of this post…we were taking a Spelling Test today. I caught one of my students pulling a spelling list out of his desk and copying the words. He’s a good kid, and I was kind of surprised. In talking to him, I asked him why he was cheating. He said he didn’t know it was cheating…that he thought cheating was when you looked on someone else’s paper. *sigh* I explained that if it wasn’t coming out of his own brain, it’s cheating. So now, he gets to write the spelling words 10 times each for homework and dad has to sign a note about it.

Sometimes it’s easy to forget that kids do not have the same frame of reference and experience as adults with common-sense issues. Which is why it’s so important that the guiding figures in their lives BE guiding figures. Kid can’t raise themselves. Unfortunately, too many of them are doing just that. *sigh*

I think it’s time for some eggnog and Southern Comfort…a good nighttime toddy lately.

*sigh* It’s the same every year at this time…kids are excited about Christmas…and suspicious. It’s the logic thing…just how does Santa manage it? ALL the houses…in ALL the world…do reindeer really fly?

And they so want to believe…you see it in their eyes…the yearning to believe in the magic.

And it’s a glorious burden to bear the mantle of the last moments of childhood innocence. One girl, whose house burned down earlier this year, announced that Santa knew about her house and came early to bring them some clothes and toys. Ain’t no way I’m messing with that.

And the joy. Do you remember that joy of the expectation of Santa? Kids have to grow up so fast now…why can’t they have a few years of happy expectation?

So when they ask if Santa is real, I tell them that Santa comes to my house. That Santa Claus was originally the very real Saint Nicholas (and you should see their eyes light up as they compare the phonemes of ‘Saint Nicholas’ to the more familiar ‘Santa Claus’). That now he’s an angel with the magic of love that makes all the wonder of Christmas happen.

And as a teacher I have the honor of adding to the magic of love. So screw the regular Social Studies plans…we are going to have Christmas activities, with cutting and gluing and glittering and FUN! Life is too short. Let the kids be kids. Let them be innocent and enjoy the season, because Santa rocks!

We have a Reading Club for the students at my school. Kids have to read books and take short tests on them, helping to build comprehension skills.

At each meeting of this club, the librarian reads off the top ten point earners in each grade level. There are seven second-grade classes at my school. And today, out of the top ten second-grade readers, SIX were from my class. SIX!!! That means I had 60% of the top readers, with the remaining 40% spread among the rest of the second grade classes.

Yeah, I’m smiling! My class rocks!

One of the catch-phrases I use in my class room is ‘Don’t be willfully ignorant.’ Of course, I have to explain what that means to the kids, but they catch on to it pretty quickly. I love it when a kid who has been struggling makes a good grade, and tells me “I wasn’t willfully ignorant, Mrs. Who!” They recognize it’s an accomplishment. That it’s the action on their part that makes their success THEIR success.

Well, I’m going to have to add a new sign in my classroom, thanks to Joan of Argghh. Go ahead and go read her spot-on post about the vigilance needed in authority that is so lacking today.

I’ll wait till you get back.
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Oh, great! You came back! And if you read the comments there, you know about the new sign I’m putting up in my classroom: ” ‘Poverty of Action’ is not allowed in this classroom.”

I would rather a child came out of my classroom with a responsibility of self that would serve him far greater in life than knowing which end of a magnet is positive or negative. It would serve him better than passing a state-mandated test that really gives him nothing to build a sense of character.

There are mandates being handed down left and right with no real concern for the child…just the higher-ups wanting to have high test scores to ‘prove’ we’ve taught children what they need to know. But if children don’t have a sense of responsibility, what they know won’t matter a tinker’s damn. It’ll be like the situation in Joan’s post, where filth surrounds someone and they don’t give a damn because they don’t realize they can.

I’ll do everything in my power to make sure my students give a damn. I won’t use that phrase, of course. But my students will know about willful ignorance and poverty of action and KNOW they are better than that. Because I give a damn.

(This involves the same boy as in yesterday’s post.)

Boy: What am I supposed to do after this work? Just sit here and be bored?

Mrs. Who: (raises eyebrow ala Spock)

Boy: (stares innocently)

Mrs. Who: Choose one of the learning activities to do, or you can be bored copying out of my big dictionary.

Boy: Hmm.

Boy: Hmm.

Boy: I think I’ll go on the computer.

Mrs. Who: Good choice.