Starting Again and a New Gig
Filed under: Back in the Classroom, Fantasy Football, Shameless Promo, Weblogs
Today was my first day back on campus. I started bright and early at 8 a.m. and like last fall, most of my students were already in their seats when I arrived at 7:55 a.m. My first class is all freshman and they came sleepy-eyed and semi-excited, but with a good deal of cautiousness as well.
I thought things were going great and then I asked if there were any questions and one of my students shot her hand straight up in the air.
“I live really far away,” she said, “so if someone dies or something at home, I won’t be here for a couple days.”
The other students looked around uncomfortably. Truly this was a weird “question” to have.
“Well,” I said, “it’s kind of a bad idea to start planning excuses to miss class and/or deaths to miss class on the first day of class. How about we just play it by ear and see what happens?”
Her face flushed a little bit and everyone chuckled a bit. I didn’t mean to call her out but what was I supposed to say? “Well, if someone dies, then by all means, miss as much class as you want.”
I mean seriously. Already we’re starting with the one dead grandparent per semester. The first day? Really?
My speech class arrived next and they seemed like an interesting and fun group right from the start. We did a silly getting-to-know-each-other activity and one of my new students stood up and demonstrated the oddities about his body. He showed us what ribs look like when you break them and don’t get them reset. One word: weird.
He showed us how he doesn’t have muscle up in his left pec area and when he pounded on it, he sounded almost hollow. Stranger yet.
He also showed us that he can throw his knee completely out, and then he proceeded to hop in a circle almost completely around his now-thrown-out-kneed leg. Having recovered from an ACL reconstruction and watching that much motion almost made me have to put my head between my knees and find a paper bag or something. Thank God he had jeans on when he did it or I would have been on the floor.
It is definitely going to be an interesting couple of months and not only for those reasons.
A friend of mine started a new blog called Bullsnballs. It’s not about bulls balls, so don’t be scared. It’s actually about sports and stocks, and yours truly happens to be writing a fantasy football column over there as well (to be debuting soon). Please go visit and say hello! Even if you have no interest in stocks and sports, you have to go just to see the design of the site, which was done by my fabulous designer as well. Feel free to link to him with reckless abandon.
And don’t forget to go vote for me today too! Please and thank you!
The Kids That Keep You Up At Night
During my first year of teaching, I had a lot of challenging students. When you have an 18 year old driving to 9th grade and at least five kids who have probation officers, you know you're going to have some rough days. A quick scan of my class lists gave some of the veteran teachers chills. What a way to start off as a new teacher.
One of the students the veteran teachers warned me about was taking 9th grade English for the second time. As they started to tell their horror stories about Rob, I tried to block it out. I didn't want to have any preconceived ideas about my students. I wanted to give them all a fair chance at success without me walking in there with an expectation that they were going to be a nightmare for me.
It turns out that the student they warned me about became one of my favorite kids. He didn't turn everything in on time. He sometimes acted aloof in class, but there was something about him that I liked. He was no kiss-up and wasn't going to pretend that he appreciated Shakespeare to try to make me happy. He was as he appeared, and sometimes he was just not interested in being in class.
I was called to multiple conferences about this particular student during the year. I would listen as each teacher went around the room relaying horror stories about him and telling his Mom how he was going to fail, yet again. When they got to me, the room got very quiet. I had no problems with him. Although he was a straight C student at this point, he caused me no trouble at all. I just would have liked him to put a little more effort into his assignments. Behavior wise, I had no issues with him. It seemed that everyone else did.
About mid-year, we did a poetry assignment and what he turned in was not a typical poem. It was a rap that he had poured his heart and soul into. I couldn't have been more thrilled. He didn't try to duplicate a "roses are red" poem or plagiarize one off the Internet like many of my students did. What he turned in was authentic. It was also a bit raw and used some serious slang, but I liked it. I happen to like and appreciate rap. It was a turning point for him in the class.
Soon, he was writing journal entries about how he wanted to become a rapper. He was bringing in new songs for me to look over on a regular basis. Then, he brought me a demo tape that I still have somewhere. I thought it was awesome. I told him that what he was writing was poetry. I used his own work to show him examples of rhyming, alliteration, and the poetry patterns he was creating throughout his work. Suddenly, he had a new appreciation for English class.
His teachers continued to talk in conferences how he was disrespectful and inattentive; and then I would gushabout how talented he was and how once he saw the relevancy to his own interests, he became invested in English class and in his work. The other teachers just stared at me in disbelief. I was the only one who could see the good in this kid. I thought it was a real shame, and I think a lot of it was because many of those teachers walked into that classroom on the first day, knowing how he had been the year before, and assumed he was going to be the same disrespectful punk. I expected better from him, and he rose to the occasion.
This semester, I had a "Rob." He came from a rough background, lost his dad and two of his friends to drugs and suicide in the very near past, and although he was rough around the edges, I really liked him and saw a lot of potential in him. When I met with him mid-semester and told him he had a D and too many absences, he asked me if he should withdraw from the class.
I told him he needed to attend regularly and work harder! I spent so much time that day pointing out all the good in his work and telling him that I just needed to see more of it on time. He attended every class for a while and then he dropped off again. I was so disappointed. This weekend, as I sat grading final portfolios, it came time to grade his. He was missing his final paper, and two other major assignments that he had the entire semester to complete. Had he completed even one of the three assignments with any care, he would have been able to pass the class with a D-. Instead he failed.
I don't know whether or not he'll be back next semester. It's the kids like this that keep me up at night. What will he do if he's not in school? Will he follow the route his friends took and get involved with drugs again? Will he be able to straighten himself out and find the motivation to succeed? I found a way to get to my 9th grader many years ago, but as a teacher, you can't reach them all. This is one that slipped through the cracks; and I'm as disappointed in myself as I am in him.
Just Call Me a Psycho Serial Killer
Today was my last class of the semester. I'm on break until the fall (after I finish all my grading of course). This semester was quite different from last semester. The class had very different group dynamics and I had issues with kids who lacked personal responsibility. Not every student had these issues, but overall, it was a big change from my class last semester. My first semester was not at all like that.
For the final class, both last semester and this semester, I brought in donut holes and we had a final day of fun impromptu speeches. Last semester, my students turned almost every impromptu topic around into something positive about how much they had enjoyed speech class or how much they had enjoyed having me as a teacher. They already knew where they stood grade-wise. It wasn't to kiss up. They liked me and the class and they let me know it. It was a great way to end the semester.
Today was a bit different. First, I had the students complete their evaluations of me. I have to leave the room during this time and I gave explicit instructions to my one student to collect them all and then come out into the hallway when they were all finished to get me. After 10 minutes had gone by, the volume was quickly rising from my classroom. It's not a group evaluation so talking is not required for them to complete the task.
Then I heard, "Well that's because you're a man-whore." That was it.
I opened the door, did a quick look around, asked them if they were finished and they all nodded that they were done and that my volunteer had the envelope of evaluations ready to go. Yet no one had come to get me. I got on their cases a bit, and told them I hoped the word "man-whore" wasn't a part of my evaluations, and then I broke out the donuts.
The students were tentative, so I pretty much ordered them to get out of their seats, and get some donuts so we could get started. I was sporting my classic look of irritation and frustration. We had a lot to finish up on our final day and the clock was ticking. Finally, they started moving.
I had each student write down two impromptu speech questions and then as the students got up to perform for one last time, they called on a student to give them a question. One of the questions was, "Why do you think Mrs. BBM is acting like a psycho serial killer today?" This question came from one of my responsible kids.
I asked him what he meant by that and he said that I was trying to make them eat donuts. . . "like a serial killer or something."
"Hmm, you know last semester, I brought in donuts and my students thanked me and told me I was awesome. This semester, I'm a psycho serial killer trying to kill you with my donut holes. I guess this is an appropriate way to end it all."
So, one of my most spirited students got the speech topic declaring me a serial killer and he did it quite well. I was almost convinced myself. As part of his speech, he said I had taught them through subliminal messages to go kill people and that I had spent time in jail for 30 murders.
When he was finished, I told him he did a fairly accurate speech, but that my murders were justified. You see, I had only killed people who didn't turn assignments in on time. I think I made my point.
As I was leaving campus today, I ran into one of my favorite kids from last semester. I asked him how his semester had gone and he said it was great, but that he wished he would have been able to take my class again. He then went on to tell me how he had to do a presentation for another class and he absolutely "killed it" and was the best one in the class. His professor had asked him where he learned to put a presentation together like that, and he said he learned it from me and my class. He then went on to tell me about his presentation and how he had attention and orienting material, how he used a personal anecdote, and a solid clincher in his conclusion.
It made me so proud to hear him say those things. I told him I was happy he was able to apply what he learned to other classes; and he went on to say that he'll use what I taught him the rest of his life.
There may be 17 completed potentially mediocre evaluations sitting on campus, critiquing me for not accepting late assignments, and for occasionally ranting about irresponsibility; but only one thing is important to me today. I taught that student how to "kill it" in his presentation. I guess I really do teach them how to kill.
How to Make Your Teacher EXTREMELY Cranky
My speech students are working on their final speech project. The last speech is a group speech with an intense question/answer period following it. Students were able to form their own groups. I helped, if necessary. In some cases it was necessary. For example, the four students who decided they wanted to be a group of four when I had already told them groups could be no larger than three.
Breathe in, breathe out. FRUSTRATING!
After two weeks of group work during class time so that I could supervise, assist, and advise, outlines were due today. I should stress that this was the fourth time they were handing in outlines. The only thing different about this one was that I also required a group outline with a group introduction and group conclusion and transitions in between. It's not confusing, especially since I went over how to create it at least four times in class. On Thursday of last week, I wrote the exact format on the board and went over it. There was no shortage of instruction on how to create this outline.
I have six groups in my class and figured I would be able to get through all of their group outlines today during class. The plan was to conference with each group and advise them regarding changes they needed to make.
I got through two groups. The first group took me about 15 minutes which put me on schedule to finish all of the groups by the end of the class time. Then I got to the second group.
One of the group members was absent. . . again. The other two guys sat there, doing nothing, as they've done for the past two weeks which has surprised me because one of the guys is one of my best students. I have repeatedly told them to use their time wisely, to work on their group introduction, and that if they weren't busy, it signaled that they weren't going to do well on this speech.
Their outline was a complete mess, and guess what? No group introduction, no group conclusion and barely a transition. It was scattered, incorrectly formatted, and just plain irritating because it had nothing that I told them it needed in the previous weeks.
"Let me see your notes from last Thursday," I said grumpily.
They stared at me like I'd just asked them to recite the Bible, backwards, in Farsi or something.
"Where are your notes on how to do this group outline?" I demanded.
They stared at me, but this time, they were both turning a little red.
"So neither of you have notes on how to do this outline?"
They both nodded in agreement. "Ah, well that explains why this looks like garbage." I couldn't help myself. I was just so angry. I mean seriously! Why do I stand up there speaking to them, instructing them, spelling things out word for word, if they're not going to listen or write it down?
I had a little fit on them, hacked their outline to pieces with my pen, and then told them I'd have to take it with me to grade it because at that very moment, I was tempted to put a big fat zero on it. I asked them if they'd like to go and make a copy of it before class was over so they had my notes and suggestions and they stared at me again.
Hello? Anyone home?
"It's not really a question guys. Go and make a copy so you have my notes and can piece this mess into something decent for your speech next week! GO!"
I'm not usually this cranky with my students. I'm really not. In fact, most of them would say that I'm downright pleasant. But when I have spent this semester bending over backwards to try to get them on track and kick their butts into academic shape, and they turn in something as pathetic as that outline and then just stare at me like that?
UGH.
When I was finished with them, I had five minutes left. I told the students I was willing to stay late and work with any group that needed help. Two groups stayed and I'm thankful they did. Those two groups proved to me that I taught them what to do properly.
It's not me; it's them. Sometimes I need to remind myself.
A Temper Tantrum All My Own
Yesterday Lil C had the temper tantrum of the century. This morning I had one of my own.
Disappointed, frustrated, and a bit angry after wasting my time grading assignments that were half completed, I went into class this morning intending to give the kids a good talking to. When I got in there though, I couldn't stop. I actually had to hold on to the podium because I started shaking. I lectured about laziness and carelessness for a good 15 minutes. It was kind of like when you start telling the guy who cuts your hair everything about yourself. You don't know why you're doing it, but you just know you can't stop. Today, I just couldn't stop.
Instead of doing what I personally always hated, I first told the kids who show up every day and turn all their assignments in correctly and on time that they could sort of zone out for a few minutes. However, I told them, "if you have any plans in the near future to slack off, then you should probably pay attention too."
Some of the highlights:
- "When my second grader reads over my shoulder as I'm grading one of your papers and says 'Oh mommy, that's spelled wrong.' . . . we have a problem."
- "I have a t-shirt I wear to the gym that says 'Lazy Sucks' and that would be my opinion on the papers I graded last night."
- "I know that, by now, you understand how to do this, so the only possible reason for these poorly constructed outlines is that either a) you're lazy; or b) you don't care. Neither one of those reasons is acceptable.
- You are a nice group of students. Nice doesn't get you an A though. Neither does just showing up without putting in any effort.
- For those of you who have outlines that look like gobbly-gook with the completely wrong format, hold your hands up and wiggle your pinky fingers around. Ahh, see that, they work. Find the "tab" key and use it.
When I was finished with my rant, I handed back their outlines, pointed out five students who had done a great job and told the ones who hadn't to pair up with someone who did it correctly and "beg them to help you get it right."
I also passed out post-it notes with their current grades and the number of absences on it. I told the ones who were in good shape to keep it up, and not to slack. I told the ones who had dug themselves a hole that it isn't too late to dig themselves out.
Then I had a student ask me if I give extra credit for perfect attendance. I told her and the rest of the class that they don't get stickers and rewards for doing what they're supposed to be doing already. I'm not rewarding them for gracing me with their presence.
I then spent some time talking with the student with the lowest grade. He asked me if he should just withdraw from the class. After a good 10 minute conference with him, he went from being grumpy with me to finally taking ownership of the mess he's put himself in, and knowing what he needs to do to dig himself back out. Here's hoping he actually follows through. I think he will.
Eternal optimism. If a teacher loses that, they're done for. I was planning on keeping mine. . . at least for now, but then I got the results of my allergy testing today.
My number one allergy?
Cats. I have two.
I have told people for years that my allergies got bad after I had my kids. Perhaps though, I have just lost my memory of the years before having kids since my cats are now about 13 years old. I'm also allergic to late summer pollens, a bunch of molds, two trees (elm & poplar), and dust mites. That was my other big one; but the doctor and I ruled that out as a problem since my bedroom (thanks to my obsessively putting every bedroom item into an allergy cover) is pretty much a mite free zone. So, we're left with my cats.
Finding them a new home isn't really an option for me. So, for now I'm on a ton of medications (eye drops, nose spray, and a new prescription antihistamine). In three weeks, I go back to determine whether or not I need to move into the next phase of probable torture: allergy shots.
Today's appointment took 3.5 hours. I went through just under 40 scratch test things on my back which was similar to the sensation of tweezing eyebrows, but with a slightly painful little tickle that was more annoying than anything else. Then it was on to 32 intra-dermals, 16 for each arm. The one that glared at him the most was the cats. Why couldn't I be allergic to dogs? I can't stand dogs anyway!
The good news is that I was quite comfortable while there. My Mom works there and all the nurses and the doctor know me. I'm glad it's over with for sure, and hope that the cocktail the doctor came up with will work for me, starting now.
Since I'm feeling a bit like a human sieve, I'm skipping karate tonight. Plus, they gave me an antihistamine and prednisone before leaving and all I really want to do is go scrub my arms and back and go to sleep.
All around, this has been a completely sucktastic week. And starting tomorrow, I need to prepare for a luau birthday party for Big I, complete with a home-made volcano cake. Right now though, it's eye drop, nose spray time.
Fun stuff.
Copyright
© Copyright 2006-2019 blackbeltmama dot com ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Follow Me
Blog Designed By
My Creations
Things You Could Care Less About
