I'm a jerk.

I KNOW! I know! It has been ages since I've posted. I'm a big jerk face and a bloggette (little person who blogs a little... a new word, I've decided) failure.

I'm just so gd busy. The kids keep me running around in circles and *sigh*

A highlight or two.

"Miss J? Can we pull a prank on you?"
"What kind of kids ARE YOU? Asking the teacher if you can pull a prank? You need to work on that."
Moments later, whoopie cushion noises were heard. Moments after that, I owned a new whoopie cushion.

"Miss J, are we making you nuts?"
"Naw, I like you guys."
"Like... or like-like."
Pause. Eyeroll. "I enjoy your company. Most of the time. You goober."
"What's a goober? Is it a booger? Are you calling us boogers?!"
"Actually... it's a nut."

"Miss J? Can we throw you a surprise party?"
"How are you going to do that? I know where you are every moment of the day."
"Even when we are in the bathroom?"
"I said I knew WHERE you are. Maybe not the details of what you're doing."
"Oh. Well, what do you want for your birthday?"
"Ohhh! [with excitement] You know what I'd REALLY like?!"
"What, what?!" [class chorus]
"FOR YOU TO GET YOUR HOMEWORK DONE!"
"Awwwwwwww!"



Hope that was enjoyable for you. More to come. I hope.

Love ya!

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Today's Conversations and Quotes

"Miss J! I'm your nephew."
"Really? You're my sister's son?"
"Yes. What's her name?"
"...Katelyn."
"No, it's not. It's MOM. Sheesh."


Boy: My brain is missing!!
Miss J: Did you have a lobotomy?
Boy: A what?
Miss J: Did you have part of your brain surgically removed?
Boy: Yeah!
Girl: (nonchalantly) They replaced it with a plastic car.





"There will be no pooping on my floor!"



"What do poor people do for fun?"
"They collect onions."
"No they don't! They hang out outside of Home Depot!"


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Potty Mouth

Lately, we've been discussing my favorite repulsive and or dangerous animals. Take sea cucumbers, for instance-- they're covered in poisonous mucus and shoot out their internal organs at predators, then regrow them. And naked mole rats-- made cute by Disney's KimPossible, but possibly one of the ugliest creatures on earth. And, of course, jellyfish....

Now, I'm sure all of you know what to do if you're stung by a jellyfish. That is, if you are far from help and all by yourself. In order to neutralize the stinging sensation.... you gotta pee where it's stinging! HA!

So, I had to tell my kids this... cuz it gets them every time. I enjoy the gross-out factor, I'll be honest. But I failed to consider this particular group of kids. They too, seem to enjoy the gross out factor.

Says one student* with huge, startled eyes "OH my GOD Miss J!!! What do you do if it stings you in your MOUTH?!"




. . .




*Note: this is the same student who informed me that he couldn't do his homework because his brother's privates had been chopped off.

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Steps to Destress

I am getting burnt out. I can feel it. So, for those of you out there who can also feel the burn, may I suggest a remedy?

Step 1: Take off your shoes.
Step 2: Ignore the work you have to do.
Step 3: Find yourself a playful orange cat.
Step 4: Pet orange cat's tummy.
Step 5: Smile.
Step 6: Repeat steps 4 & 5 infinitely.


Works every time.

Mustached Man and Suuuuuuper Frog!

Remember the student from student teaching who wrote all of the Fredrick the Wolf stories? Well, this is the Arizona equivalent. Let's just call him Emilio.

Emilio is a very creative writer, aspires to be an animator... and likes to blame things on his Evil Twin. Let's call him Mortimer. Mortimer sneaks up on poor, unsuspecting Emilio, and does all sorts of naughty things before disappearing back into Emilio's shadow.

Emilio is very quiet in class-- I never have to reprimand him for talking, wasting time, not following directions, flinging rubber bands in other people's eyes, punching others, putting white out all over everything, stealing my school supplies.... and so on. As soon as there is group work to be done, or free time though... watch out! The mischeif starts, and his mouth doesn't close. Typical Mortimer-- the boy sounds like an auctioneer on speed.

Now, clearly, Emilio doesn't have a mustache to twirl or an eyepatch. I drew those on. Not, in this case, to preserve his identity.... but because half way through class yesterday, he smacked both of these items on his face.


Evil twin, you know.

Mortimer dances with my skeleton. He tells grand sweeping stories of alien invasion. He teams up with Superfrog and defeats the deadly Chameleon! He's a charmer, a bandit, a sneak.

And of course, my favorite pupil.


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Makin' the Big Monies

So, on one of my official school papers, it says that I make $19.95 an hour.

HAhaHAHaHhaAHA HaAH HA haa HA!! *cough hack hairball*

I think I just ruptured something.

$19.95 an hour my hopelessly perky butt. When you count just the hours I spend AT SCHOOL working, and total it up, after taxes I make.... .....

You sitting down?....



No, really.




I'm not playing around here.



Oh, no. You're not giving me THAT look. That's detention for YOU mister.
Ah-hem.

...sorry. Got caught up there for a moment.



Anyhow. My grand total, per hour, only counting time in which I am in school.......


$7.50.


Absolutely no exaggeration.

According to one of my kids "You could make more per hour workin' at Sonic, Miss J!"

Woo hoo!!


Okay. It is now time for me to pass out. It's been another disgustingly long day, and I am deader than a vulture-picked corpse. Hope y'all are doin' well.


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*shaking fist*

Four of the little boogers are stealing stuff from me.

Little stuff. Like rubber bands.

I wouldn't mind if they were using the rubber bands for good-- that's what rubber bands are there for. To be helpful. To hug posters into submission. To bundle up pens if you are a bagless wonder.

But my kids aren't using them for good.... they're using them for evil. And I am not pleased.

For your viewing pleasure....

This is by far the lamest picture of the bunch. It can't be helped. I'm in the process of setting up two more centers-- the code breaking one will be full of math, actual codes and ciphers, and words they have to decode for reading comprehension, plus strategies to do so. I like to mix the subjects in the centers if I can. The unsolved mystery one is on a similar curiosity driven theme, and will feature such mysteries as crop circles, Stonehenge, the Bermuda Triangle, Nessie, Easter Island, Roanoke, alien abduction, hauntings and more! Wooo! How's that for fun?






This next picture shows my teeny windows (thank the great flying fish for them-- the AZ sun is KILLER!) You can see the start of my Travellin' Through Space and Time Center. Again... more exploring and fun!






Here's a shot of my Reading Rainforest. The four levels of the rainforest double as a learning tool-- those that read 1 book a month are on the forest floor, those who read 2 are in the understory, 3 are in the canopy, and 4 a month are my emergent level readers. I know, I know. Emergent readers are those people who are just starting to learn to read. But it's the highest level of the rainforest! So... that's that. If you look on the right you'll see Louie, my chameleon puppet. He's a hit. The only sad thing? I don't have NEARLY enough books!!




My skeleton has lost his jaw. Plus several teeth. And an arm. He's not doing so well. My globe isn't either. Apparently the sub broke it. Sad, sad, sad.



You will notice that my prized possession-- my little blue elephant-- sits on my desk. My CLEAN desk. It's clean and gorgeous until, say, 2:00. Then, somehow, everything explodes.
Behind my desk, on the right you can see my art wall area, and an area for the student of the week and daily student awards.




A view from the back. I had the kids in rows. Rows are rotten. Then I switched it to groups, because kids learn better that way. They also talk more that way. So I switched them to groupy-rows. Its working well so far AND I still have plenty of space to walk.

The white board on the far right is NOT a regular white board. Its a SmartBoard. It hooks up to the LCD projector, so we can watch movies on it (oh yeah). ALSO, any webpage I pull up on my computer, I can project automatically onto the screen. As a super awesome added bonus-- its touch sensitive. I can write, draw, or type right ON THE SCREEN. How amazing is that?


Well, that's all for now! I'll try my best to keep posting.... I've been spending 12 hours at school, then coming home, working a few more hours, and then just passing out. My kids always ask me what fun things I did over the weekend, and I just kind of laugh at them. It's okay though. They laugh at me the rest of the time. :)

Homework Excuses: Part 1

It's the first week of school, and already I'm getting homework excuses. Can you believe it?

Among them are all of the usual suspects--
Mr. I Left it at Home! It's on the Kitchen Table, I Swear! and
Ms. I Left it Here so it's Not Finished. And of course, there's
Mme. Uh....We Had An Assignment? Yes, yes you did.


So far, here's my favorite...




"Miss J? I didn't get my homework done because my brother had to have surgery on his privates."






*blink*




So.... you need your brother's privates to do your homework?

Somebody explain that one to me. On second thought... please don't.



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The First Day

Again, let me reiterate the strangeness of my situation. I started teaching after the students had already been in school for two weeks. They had, as it turned out, a rather sub-par substitute. Let's call him Mr. Terse. Cuz that's what he was. One terse dude.

Anyhow, the deal was that I'd start on a Monday, but would have until Thursday to get myself together-- meet the other 6th grade teachers, go into their classrooms and see what they were up to, get to know my kids. And plan.

Monday came around, and I sauntered in, teachery glasses perched on my nose, pen stuck through my hair. I met Mr. Terse, the substitute, and he ushered me outside to meet my little darlings.

As I walked to meet them, I heard the voices of several kids "Is that our teacher?" and then, "HEY! ARE YOU OUR TEACHER?" I just looked at the shouts, unamused. Then, more quietly...

"Hey... um. Are you our new teacher?"
"I am."
"Are you nice?"
"No. But I'm fair."

The kids didn't quite know what to make of that. They exchanged slightly worried glances that said "Is this chick going to be as bad as the sub?" On the inside, I was already giggling. They were in for a wild ride.

Two minutes later, I was in the classroom. I snapped on my orator voice and told them what was up. I was their new teacher, I would be starting permanently on Thursday, but until that time I expected respect to the substitute as well as myself, and excellent behavior.

I sat in my desk (My desk! MY desk!) and learned their names. But before long I began to wiggle. I couldn't just sit there and watch. I had to take over. Mr. Terse was doing as best as he could, but the students (or was it my presence?) made him nervous. Half of them weren't listening, and those who were didn't get what he was saying. They all stared at him with dead, glassy eyes.

I raced to the board and explained math as a code, and the students as codebreakers. Sherlock Holmes-es, every last one of them. Superheroes about to save the world. I drew pictures and made up stories. Questions shot from my mouth like horses at a racetrack. The kids were paying attention. And to my glee-- the principals walked in at that very moment, grinned, gave me thumbs-up signs, and walked back out.

Yes!, the little voice in my head said.

And the day was to get better. Science came around, and similarly to math, I couldn't sit still. We talked about the world's oceans, the water cycle. One of my kids asked "How come there are no oceans around here?"

Mr. Terse said "Well, that's kind of a long story," and looked at me like "Go ahead if you want."
I thought for a second, and in an exhaustive 2 minutes, explained Pangea, continental drift due to plate techtonics, and the makeup of the Earth beyond the crust.

The student who asked the question just kind of stared at me in wonder.
"You know everything!"

On the inside, I grinned. The student's comment just about made my week.

Which was damn good, because, as it turned out, the week was about to get hairy.

Teacher Telepathy

The second day of class, my students had to present historical reports. The group assignment had been given by the substitute teacher and he had left no rubrick behind. I sat in my desk, wondering how to grade them, and listened as my third presenter stumbled over the words.

"At one time," he said, "ka-ka-ka..."
"Caesar?" I asked, looking up from my notes. He looked at me in surprise.
"Yeah. Yeah! I think it is."

Then a few minutes later...
"The p-p-p,"
"Parthenon?"
Again, he looked at me in astonishment. "How'd you DO that?"

I shrugged. "I'm a teacher. I'm good."
The class giggled.

Two minutes later, it happened again.
"Eh... Eh....." He looked up at me expectantly.
"Espana?"

"Man. You weren't kidding. You ARE good."

Indeed. :)

I'm Not Dead

I'm not dead. Just... awful damn close. It's unbearably hot here. People kept saying "it's a dry heat! It's a dryyyy heat!" It'll be nothing like the Midwest, whose humidity hugs you like a soggy blanket all day. Yeah. It's nothing like the Midwest, allright. But that bit about the "dry heat" making things tolerable? Ha! Those bastards. They had me fooled. Don't let them fool you too.

You know how when you reach into the oven to take out a pizza, and if you get too close, your vision is suddenly impeded by a layer of condensed moisture on your lenses? Same thing when I get into my car at 7 o'clock at night, after spending 12 hours at school. Because, it's still 100 degrees at 7 o'clock at night. Not a nice balmy 80 like I'm used to. Get in the car, and it's fog up to high heaven, and I can't see a damn thing. So, naturally, I reach for the steering wheel and burn sear marks into my fingers. If you were to see me diving home from school, you would see my hands covered in white napkins, to stop the searing effect. No joke. I look like an idiotic clown, but I don't care. I have happy fingers.

I also have 28 kids. 26 are Hispanic. 2 of the 28 speak no English. 6 others speak a very small amount. The rest are, for the most part, bilingual powerhouses with mouths like motors that could cut topiary faster than Eddie Scizzorhands if only their teeth were blades.

I teach 7 classes a day. Spelling, reading, writing, english, math, social studies and science. I dance around the girls to embarrass them into submission. I tell they boys they are too short to be thugs (and thus will get no street cred, or proper... props...), thus they will sadly have to take up another career path, and become something lame like doctors or lawyers. I give them lots of homework. I give them lots of prizes. I give them lots of teacher looks.

I want them to get one ass-kicking education, but right now, all they covet is my bright blue elephant pencil sharpener.

At Last, At Last, Employed At Last!

I have what all recent college grads covet... a job!

This morning, after an hour long interview with two astonishingly friendly principals, I found myself promptly hired. I couldn't believe it. Granted, after every answer I gave they acted like my very own personal cheerleaders, so, I knew I was in good shape... but still. I never expected someone to hire me so quickly-- they didn't even check my references!

Later, the human resources person called me, and I found out why they hired me quick as lightning-- school starts on MONDAY. As in a couple days from now. When they found out I couldn't be there until the 21st they were nonplussed. Apparently, there will be two other teachers who won't be able to get there right away either! Holy bacon on a stick.

I'll type more later. For now, I've got to get this crazy wiggly dance energy out of my system! Anyone want to dance with me??

My Menagerie

When people find out you're going to be a teacher, they buy you the most ridiculous (read: awesome!) things ever. Now, I already kind of have a love affair with school supplies, but this... this is like heaven.

In the last week, I've gotten some truly hilarious (and practical! Really!) items. My favorites:

Item #1: A bright blue, translucent elephant with suction cups on its feet. As if this wasn't cool enough (Come on. Who doesn't want a bright blue elephant to call their very own?), the elephant serves as both a paper shredder and a pencil sharpener! Ha! Genius.

Of course, you've got to stick the pencil in the elephant's forhead to sharpen it... which is a little weird. I feel like I'm stabbing him. It might have been a better idea to have his trunk curled up, so you could put the pencil in his mouth. Then it'd be more like eating.... or tonsil stabbing. I don't know. Anyhow, thanks to my dear friend Heather for this gift. She's fantastic.


Item #2: A fist-sized ladybug stapler, given to me by my phenomenal cooperating teacher. Where do people find these things? I'm a little afraid to bring this into my classroom, because some little punk might steal it. It's just so cool. On the other hand, the thing weights a metric ton, so if I might just keep it in my purse and use it to hit muggers. Always nice when your staplers have dual lives, don't you think?

By the time I start teaching I should have a whole menagerie of animal items that serve purposes other than looking adorable. I'm excited to build my zoo. Thank you so much for those who have contributed! :)

Puddle Jumping

I finished my finals. I'm done. Finished. Finally. It hasn't quite hit yet. Much as I bitch about this place, I'm going to miss it. There's nothing quite like running around the quad at 1:30 at night, playing frisbee and getting caught in the rain.

Which is exactly what I did. Intead of partying it up, I frolicked in the wet grass, giggling and dancing like a maniac, dodging past vindictive sprinklers and whipping a frisbee with so much style Paris Hilton would be jealous. Then, Mother Nature decided we were having too much fun, and decided to rain on our parade. Little does she know how much I like spring rain. So, I used my frisbee as a dashing little hat (told you I had mad style) and slowly meandered back home.

I think you've got to be a little bit of a kid to be a good teacher. I just hope my kids find as much joy rain dancing as they do playing those junky computer games. If not, I'll teach 'em! You WILL hop in puddles! You WILL climb trees! You WILL sing Disney songs on the top of your lungs!

Just... you know... do it at home. Your parents will love it. I promise.

Interview Anxiety

Well, that was odd.

The principal didn't ask me any questions. I was prepared to talk about anecdotal behavior notes and parental communication logs and use obnoxious words like "cooperative" and "interdisciplinary" and "differenciated," and blather on about my 5 year plan and my strenghts and weaknesses and.... *head explodes*

And... nothing! I sat there for about five minutes as he talked about the district and the surrounding area. I felt like a kid whose teacher keeps talking about nonsense before giving a big test. Just sock it to me already! But the sock never came. The only question he had for me was "Do you have any questions for me?"

After that, he basically told me that he'd talked to various teachers in the building, and the superintendant... and every person had a glowing review. He said that before he goes to the board with his recommendation, he has to make sure he interviews a couple other people, so that when they say "How do you know this person is the most qualified? How many others did you interview?" he has an answer other than "uhhh... well....."

And that was it. So, all of my anxiety was for nothing. I think. He didn't actually SAY I had the job... he just... made it sound like I did. I think. I'm confused. Let's hope all that the fact the lack of grilling was a good sign.

Mmm. Grilling. Now I'm hungry.

Keep your fingers crossed for me!

More Booty than Blackbeard (but less than Britney Spears)

My kids threw me a party! Lured me down to the office, decorated the classroom, and brought out a cake! They even turned off the lights and hid under their desks and screamed excitedly when I walked in the door. I couldn't have been happier. I felt like it was my birthday, darn it, and I was going to cry if I wanted to.

I did, however, manage to get myself under control until I got home with all my booty*.

When I walked in, the table was covered in gift bags. I couldn't believe it. I now have enough post-it notes to wallpaper my room. Crayons, dry erase markers, pencils, pens, highlighters, white out, a staple remover and stapler... you name it. Even a little green-haired troll doll wearing naught but a scarf. Exactly what I wanted! How did they know?

The rest of the time was spent talking, taking oodles of pictures and playing Heads Up 7 Up. God, I'm going to miss these kids. I know there are cool kids everywhere, but I still think mine are the best.

How many 12 year old boys talk about BEING swimsuit models, and then craft paper speedos that they tape to the front of their pants? How many tape pieces of paper to their chins saying "Bye Miss J! We'll miss you!"?. Just my weirdos. That's it.

I'll tell you one thing... it's good that we talked about flood safety, because if I don't get the job here, I'm going to pull an Alice in Wonderland on them. There will be a river of tears that could drown a manatee. Let's hope it doesn't come to that.

My interview is on Monday. I'll keep you posted.

Much Love!
Miss J

P.s. For added hilarity, note the middle caption of the lower picture. Supa Teacher, check. Breaker of Hearts, check. My work here is done.


* Not referring to my...assets. Also, not in any way relating to "booty call." Although, hilariously, a couple of the boys did leave me their phone numbers. And e-mail addresses. Ha!

It's my last day.


I'm not ready.

(Field) Trippin'

When you're a kid, there's nothing better than a field trip. If you've got to get up early and learn, you might as well go somewhere fun to do it! It's a day full of junk food and unnecessary flirting. Kids who are never at school show up for field trips. Kids who are never on time are there before anyone else. Kids who don't turn in signed papers under threat of death bring back their permission slips in record time. Field trips really bring out the best in some people. For the rest, it brings out the idiot.

Field trips are big fun. Unless you're not a kid. I'm not a kid. A fact I had forgotten. 60 6th graders parading around a tomb, and tromping through the museums is no delight when you're the one responsible for all of them. It's a little like trying to get a bunch of ants to walk in a straight line. Oh god, no, go this way. I have some sugar if you'll follow me nicely!! Damn it! Why aren't they following?



Highlights:
1. At one museum, there was a display of how rivers form. All of my kids ran to it going "Miss J! Look! It's a meander! It's a meandering river, look!" They then begged me to take their pictures by it. The other teacher's kids just looked at them like they were nuts. Jealousy, that's all it was...

2. One of my students created a squashed penny (of a wooly mammoth) for me. Aww yeah. Nothin' like spending 51 cents to legally destroy currency!

3. One delightful young lad pushed the emergency button on the escalator, causing it to stop abruptly, and another was messing with the emergency door on the bus while still in motion.... but other than that, no other Episodes of Idiocy.

4. In another museum, there was a historical dress up area. Did I let my kids cross-dress? Why yes, yes I did. Did I dress up and let them take my picture as well? You betcha. Did we get kicked out? Nope! Miracles DO happen.

All in all, a good day.

Day of Notes

Ahh yes. I forgot. Today was definitely the Day of Notes. The following 3 were ones given to me by my author of the Fredrick stories.

Note #1:

Miss J, I am sorry for telling you my name is Trae Hendricks. It is really Mu'an Tigger Woody.


Note #2:

Miss J, I am sorry for lying. It broke my heart. My real name is Trae Hendricks and I'm sorry for crumbling up the paper. It made me cry.


Note #3:

Miss J. I figured out my identity. I'm Trae Hendricks and I like tacos and Roli Polis, I squash them. Don't go crazy because I heard crazy people get mustaches and unibrows.

p.s. I am not afraid of tacos. I'm afraid of Roli Polis and something else.

p.p.s From Trae.


The illustration is one he made of me during the free period the last 10 minute of the day. Dashing, is it not? I'm not sure what that dead-spider looking thing is on my face, but hey. I'll go with it. After that, he was in a very creative mood, so he hiked his shorts up Urkel-style, as far as they could go. We had just been talking about floods in science, so I asked him if he was preparing for one.

"No Miss J. I'm making a fashion statement."
"Well, if that's true, you clearly need a hat."
"I do?"
"Yeah. You know how to make one out of newspaper?"
"I do!"
"Well, get to it then."
And of course, he did. Ready for the catwalk, he was. If only I had my camera.

Yesterday Burnin' Turkey, Today Rump Roast

And today's breaking news.....

I'm a fat ass!

That's right folks! You heard it here first. This 5'4" 120 pounder who enjoys long swims in shark infested waters is a grade A, FDA approved, fat ass! If you'd like to sink your teeth into a juicy piece of rump roast, you know who to call!

I had no idea. I'm so glad that I have these children to bring the truth to me. What would I do without them? Probably live a life of total denial. That might be nice. I'd like the ignorance combo #4 and a side of bliss please. Only $4.99? Great.

So, here's how it went down. I caught two of my (amazingly good) students passing a notebook back and forth. I am hip to the whole passing notes under the guise of lending a notebook thing (as I used to do it myself), so I figured I was in for some excellent entertainment. Turns out I was. Among other things, one of the girls (and again, let me say that they are some of my favorite students) called me "Fat Ass Jones."

My eyebrows nearly lifted right off my forehead. I managed to lift one eyebrow a little more, looked at the girls, tore out the note, plunked the notebook back on the desk and said calmly "Ohhhh yeah. You're so busted."

The two girls were eventually sent down to the principal's office, and now are unable to go to the field trip with us tomorrow. The one who specifically called me a tubby lard bottom is also suspended for a day. Wowza. They came back up to the room hysterical, bawling their eyes out, red-faced and amazingly apologetic. I accepted their apologies gracefully, told them I wasn't angry, just saddened and disappointed. Which, of course, made them cry a little harder.

Another one of my lovelies got into a brawl at gym, and now can't go with us tomorrow either. On the other hand, one of my students who is consistently a pain in my (you know what) was GOOD! Figure that one out. Something's in the air, and I'm not sure I like it. I do however, like what's on the menu.


Note: Don't worry. The above picture ISN'T of a student pinching my bippe.

Burning the Butterball

Did you know that I am totally obnoxious? It's true. This amazing observation was made by an 8th grade boy who's clearly an expert on the subject. Aside from being obnoxious, my other defining quality was that I "had big lips." Well, at least he got 1 outta 2 right.

Several of my lovely 6th grade girls ratted him out, but said they set him straight, telling him that I was awesome and that he should shut his mouth.

Of course, I was glad to have a phalanx of 6th grade girls on my side, but my own inner 6th grader wanted revenge. Kid talkin' smack about me, eh? To call me bitchy would have been disrespectful, but at least it would have been somewhat accurate. Obnoxious doesn't fit the bill at all. I had to set the record straight. It was time to go Judge Judy on his posterior.

The bell rang, and I walked my 6th graders out of the building. As we made our way down the stairs, one of my girls said "Miss J! There he is! The kid who said it!"

Ahh yes. Jake. Little semi-popular butterball who can't keep his mouth closed. Surrounded by a bunch of friends, trying to show off. Big stupid grin plastered to his face, like that kid in Matilda who eats the entire chocolate cake.

"Hey, Jake!" I called, raising my voice above the ruckus. His eyes met mine. He knew he was in for it. I could almost smell the fear. I continued, nonchalantly.

"Heard you said I was obnoxious but had big lips, so it was okay. That true?"

His face reddened, his friends cracked up.

"It's okay. I do have big lips. I've also got a big mouth. And good hearing. Might want to watch yourself from now on."

He just stared at me. Alien syllables dribbled from his lips.
"Awwww she BURNED you!" his friends howled.

I just smiled, turned, walked away. "Have a good night!"

Heh heh heh. Doesn't get any better than that.

Beware, Dorothy.

Okay. The content I can do. I can make just about anything fun. But the content doesn't matter if you can't get their attention and keep it. The management is everything. I've read "Harry Wong" like its the bible, and I have all these theories in my head... but I don't know what WORKS! Even with months of trying things out. I still feel like I don't know anything.

The problem is that what might work for a bunch of 6th graders... won't work for 7th or 8th graders. I'm used to being a silly bastard. I can't do that with 7th/8th graders. How do I get my kids to participate and share and get excited and laugh... and then stop on command and work silently? How do I get that kind of respect? What do I say? What do I do? I need a procedure! A set of procedures!

I just... don't like being a bitch. I can do stern. I can project my voice into the next hemisphere if I have to, but I don't want to have to. I would rather be quietly authoritative. I want the only loudness from my room to be explosions of occasional laughter. I have to learn to be a master manipulator. Shit.

I would rather be respected than liked, but you don't get respect by riding a broom. I'm just not a cold educator. *sob* Please, somebody, help me! Help! I'm melllllllllllltingggggggggggg.....

And now for something Completely Different....

A Poem. For you. Because I felt like it. First stanza needs to be redone, but *shrug* What do you want for 5 minutes?
:)
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The air is drenched with

The scent of lilacs

The sounds of birds

Chirping and new lovers calling,

“Spring has begun!”

While the breeze teases its hair,

The grass, tossing, brushing, tickling

Playfully, searching for new shoots and

New beginnings, sending the

Seeds of dandelions soaring.

The dandelions—

Tiny clouds that you can touch.

A wisp of yellow,

Or tender puff, that some call weeds

But I call love.

Tulips swell and open,

Greet a radiant sun.

Black centers like black holes

Spit forth yellow stars

Instead of swallowing them up.

And above, a canopy

Of green, new leaves

Caressing in the spring time

Breeze, murmuring, whispering

“Spring has begun.”

Hit and Run

I am learning how to be a bitch.

I'm sure this comes as a surprise to those of you who determined quickly (and years ago) that I already was one.

And you wouldn't be wrong. I fit the description easily, especially if you're some nimrod who's trying to ask me out. The Icy Stare of Death beams glacier-blue from my eyes, and you're frozen to the bone. But, I'm a different person around kids. I like them. (Probaby because I don't know when they're trying to ask me out.) They're adventurous. Creative. Funny. With my 6th graders, its a very cooperative learning environment. I feel like I really know what kind of people they are.


But 7/8th grade is different. I'm running with the "big kids" this week, and hoooo-wahhh! Those teachers run that hallway like it's bootcamp. Students don't blink unless they're given a pass to do so. They sit up straight, they get right to work. It's kind of.... awesome. They're like trained mice only they're (surprisingly) less smelly.

It's also kind of sad. Because they don't volunteer either. 7/8th grade feels like high school, where the subject matters more than the students. I felt like I was flinging knowledge at them, and then tossing them out of the room. Here you go! Knowledge! Now, off to math! *flings kid out the door*

The teacher I'm working with said that in order to keep order and silence in the classroom, you've got to be a bitch until February... and then you can start to chill out. If you don't, when the little suckers (my words, not hers) get back from winter break.... they're like a bunch of chimpanzees in a poop-throwing contest (also my words).

I'm just thinking.... there's no WAY I can be bitchy for that long. How am I supposed to connect with the students and build a rapport and get their interest if I don't figure out who they are?
I agree that you have to go in strong-- without classroom discipline/management, a teacher is lost. You can't teach anything if you don't have their eyes and their respect. But to show no warmth for that long? I'm just not that kind of person. There's got to be a middle ground. And some sesame-seed glue out there. But back to the subject-- Being Bitchy 101.

Today, under the tutelage of my new cooperating teacher, I got into the habit of being a stern, squinty-eyed, pursed-lipped school marm. I think I smiled once, but that was it. We did the whole read-the-book- outloud-and-answer-questions routine, which to me is terribly boring, but makes for a much less expressive teaching style. It's easier to be a bitch when you're not talking.

At the end of the day, I ran back to my old classroom and taught science for my cooperating teacher. And woah... what a difference. The kids were.... like chimpanzees in a poop-throwing contest. Loud, giggling, taking way too long to get out what they needed, wasting my time.... I thought to myself "Is this what they're always like, but I had a tolerancy built up... or are they being especially terrible?"

There's no way of knowing. I guess I want the best of both worlds-- to have quiet, hard-working kids who laugh and share.... but only when I say so. Anybody know how to do that?

Overall, I'm sure this week will be helpful. I get to learn what a school day is like, and what the kids are like. I'll learn how to pace myself, and how much content I can fit into a 45 minute period. I'll learn to be a bitch if I have to.

But a week is an awfully short time. Especially since I can't teach my lesson plans, or in my style. I just can't help but feeling like I'm one of them-- I'm being hit with some knowledge, and flung out the door.

Cumulonimbus Blues

I was ready to rock. I had a fun activity, a perfectly formatted lesson plan (complete with state standards) an assessment, and a classroom full of kids who were excited as heck about clouds. Okay, well scratch that last part. I was excited about clouds. I knew my nimbostratus from my altocumulus. Oh yes I did. And soon they would too.

And even though the lesson went well, I ended feeling disheartened. The kids didn't leave me feeling blue. It was a lack of a certain individual that created the little furrow between my eyebrows-- the principal.

He was supposed to come in to watch me teach today. We had it all planned out. But he didn't show up. Left me hanging. Not even a note or a word over the intercom. Nothin'. So, I'm disheartened.

If you were a principal, and you had the chance to see one of your applicants in action.... wouldn't you take it? See how well she responds to the kids, how she teaches the content, how she reacts to the extra pressure of you being there?

So, I've got a touch of the blues. The cumulonimbus just peed all over my day.

But, there's always something to look forward to. Tomorrow, I'm going to read them a kid's version of The Odyssey. Cyclops, Scylla, Sirens and all. It should be wickedly awesome. I'll keep ya posted.

More Crankiness

Maaaaaan.... it's just NOT my week. This morning, I had an irate parent come in. She was pretty sure that I'm the reason for All Evil. Good grief. Come on. Are you kidding me? The only time I ruin dreams is when I don't flirt back with the little monsters. But, to single one out and be Intentionally Shitty? No way! I would never do that!

This is the parent of a boy who generally has a great attitude. Friday, however, he had a tantrum. He was throwing pencils at people, calling other students names, and was screaming at me for "getting him into trouble".... uhhh.... I think it's your MOUTH that's doing that, darlin'. Not mine. I bet you can guess which student he's been hanging around lately... Oh yes. The one that said she had her brother stalk me.

The good news? The girl was totally over it by the time class was in session today. Participated all day long, kept making goofy faces at me. Go figure. So, one problem down, 10 million to go.

*sigh*

More later. I'm one sleepy student teacher. Hope your day was better than mine!

Lightening Bolts and Broken Wings

Today, it finally happened.

One of my students hates me.

The drama started yesterday afternoon. Being the slave driver that I am, I asked her to "please sit down," which, granted, is a pretty awful thing to ask of a student. It's right up there with "You! Serf! Dig me a new latrine!" and, say, expecting homework in on time.
Well, Miss Thang didn't want to go back to her seat. What she wanted to do was continue to flirt with Darren (you know, the 'twin' of Trae?). I asked her again, calmy but sternly, and then turned and walked away.

From the corner of the room, I hear her say the following words:

"Well, it doesn't matter what she says. I had my brother follow her home, so I know where she lives."

....excuse me?

Now, this student is a new student. She had a history of violence and less-than-appealing grades from her other school. But, since she's been here, she's been doing well. She participates and everything. But... I didn't know much about her family. For all I knew, she COULD have had some strapping John Henry as a brother. And I don't live in the nicest of neighborhoods. The squirrels in my attic aren't going to offer much protection, so if her words were true.... I could be in trouble .

Immediately, I didn't do anything, which could have been a mistake. But, there were twenty-some other 6th graders swarming me, asking questions and attempting to flirt (see examples below). It wasn't until I was driving home, that her comment really hit me. So, naturally, I started checking my rearview mirror every 2 seconds. Which does a lot of good, but only if you're trying to get into an accident.

I contacted my cooperating teacher and university supervisor (both truly excellent ladies), and met with the principal early this morning. He told me that I should write her up, and that he'd deal with it. I sighed heavily, not wanting to write her up... but, she can't go making threats like this, and I shouldn't have to feel intimidated by a 12 year old.

The principal, being a gem, didn't call her down to the office until the end of the day (so I wouldn't have to put up with a p-oed girl all day long). But... there was still class time left when she got back. And when she got back... it was like a volcanic eruption. She tore her demerit slip to bits, and when I asked her for her homework score, refused to give it to me. Instead, she sat there, fuming and mumbling under her breath.

Ohhhh dear.

My cooperating teacher came back into the room, and pulled her out. According to my little miss, everybody hates me, nobody likes me and, well, I guess I should go eat worms. Also, she wasn't going to listen to anything she had to say, because I was clearly out to get her (right, because I don't have better things to do with my time than plotting to ruin the lives of adolescents), and that she wasn't going to do talk to me, or participate or anything. I was, basically, a bitch and a half and that was it. She wasn't sayin' nothing to me.

So, my cooperating teacher said "You know what? Keeping your mouth shut is probably the best thing you can do. That's what got you into this. But you have to do what she says. If she says line up, you line up. If she asks for your homework, you give it to her. You can keep your mouth shut, and she won't call on you, but you don't have a choice in doing what she says."

So.... that's that. She came back into the room, sending glares at me like bolts of lightening. Damn. And I thought I had a Look. She's got it DOWN. It shot right through me and nearly singed my eyebrows.

*sigh*

Joking aside, her hatred really bothers me. I really don't care if all of my students don't simply adore me. But to be disliked with that sort of passion? It makes me sad. But I suppose it is easier to pass the blame than to take responsibility. I didn't do anything to her, but for now, I am the scapegoat for her anger. I've just got to be calm and keep on truckin'. What else can I do?

P.s. Turns out she doesn't have an older brother! Whew!

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Examples of Flirtation??

"Miss J? My wing is broken."
"Your wing is broken?"
"Yeah, see? (flaps arm) Broken. I was flying and Jeremy ran into me. He busted it. Now I can't fly no more."
"Any more."
"That's what I said."
"Maybe you should see the animal doctor."
"I did. The doctor was out. Nurse told me to take an aspirin and come back later."
"Guess you should do that then."
(boy walks away)

"Miss J!" (harsh whisper from girl) "Miss J, he was totally flirting with you!"
(Me, wide eyed, incredulous) "Nuh uh! He's just being silly. You're all silly. That was NOT flirting."
"Uhhhh yeah, yeah it was Miss J. He totally was."
"Oh. Well." Who knew?


Boy #2 "Hey, Miss J! Guess what?"
"What?"
"I'm a ballerina."
"You don't say."
"See, watch." (boy does worst pirouette I've ever seen)
"Wow. That was just awful."
"Yeah, that's the good thing about being my kind of ballerina. You don't have to be graceful."
"Excellent. That's my kind of ballerina too."
"Right on, Miss J. Yeah." (gives me thumbs up)

Boy #3, wearing ridiculous hair clip on top of his head
"Is that my hair clip?"
"Oh? This? Is this yours Miss J?"
"Yeah, I'm going to have to confiscate that."
"But.... you don't want it. See? Its got my hair gel all over it. Can I keep it?"
"Uhhhhh lemme think....... No!"
"Awwwww." (hands it over)
(okay, so that one probably was flirting)

Here's the problem. I don't know when they're flirting, and because of that... I don't know how NOT to egg them on!

Instability

My job status is roughly the same as the status of the Sasquatch, or Nessie. Or, for that matter, Bozo the clown. Whatever happened to him?


*grumble grumble*


I hate this. I thought that all of the old people (you know, the ones who are 45.... I kid! I kid! Don't kill me!) were going to retire and leave this gaping space in the job market... but that's not happening! They're hanging on! I think they're doing it out of spite. That, or I'm just cranky.

Woah. Okay. My house is shaking due to a storm. That's a sign to get offline. *sigh* How I hate instability. Pretty soon, it'll be no house and no job. Upside? Maybe the house will land on a witch and I'll get some pretty shoes out of it. Okay. It's off to bed with me.

Peace out, yo.

Miz J

The Chronicles of Fredrick: #7 "Fredrick Turns Evil"

To begin with, I was at home watching t.v. Well, actually, I was watching Jeremy on t.v. I had a a video camera hidden at McDonalds, I knew Jeremy would be there. Then, I see Fredrick there. Jeremy grabbed him, translated power into him, and he was evil now!

I yelled "Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!" until I got hungry and made ridiculous chicken fried eyeballs with sprinkles. Then I went to McDonalds, and I heard "Can I have a 91, 46, 8, 3, 19, 29, 74, 66, 7 to go, with fries?" It was Trent trying to get skinny to defeat me.

I went to the bathroom and fell down a hole. It was their trap! They shot me when I got down the hole, but lucky for me, I was wearing an Imaginary Vest. Then Fredrick bit my ear off! I took it from him and grabbed my taco, then gave it back.

I was getting defeated, but then Miss J came and said "It's time to Rumble!" She was trying out forwrestling. She body slammed Jeremy through a taco. Then I grabbed Fredrick and gave him Good Power. Then he poked Jeremy in the eye. Jeremy went home crying and Trent was thinking of Sara instead of Cate now! Oh no!

Fredrick got a girlfriend. It was a gummy worm. And I sat in the house all week because the Roli Polis were having Marti Graw in my front yard.


P.s. Miss J turned country.


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Okay, so this story wasn't as cohesive... but Roli Polis having "Marty Graw" in his front yard? That's hilarious. When I got to that part I burst out laughing. Of course, then I got to "Miss J turned country" and the laughter stopped. There are a lot of crazy things I'd do, but turn country? Never!!

I'm Famous!

Okay, so I'm not really famous. BUT, my picture is in my school's newspaper AND there's an article written about me by two of my students. It's even complimentary. Now, for your viewing pleasure, I am happy to present "New to Sixth Grade" by My Two Awesome Students.

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"Have you met our new student teacher? Her name is Miss Jones. She has been here since January 17th. Miss Jones may look like a tall 6th grader (thanks a lot....) but actually she is twenty-three years old and is an awesome teacher. She had an interesting childhood, loves teaching, and likes to write books for our age group. Miss Jones is a cool teacher.

When Miss Jones was a little girl she wanted to be an actress. She definitely has talent. In 7th grade, her dad went to her band concert wearing string of blinking Christmas lights. It was one of her most embarassing moments.

Miss Jones was a journalism major and art major, but got tired of writing and drawing shoes. She wanted a job that had many subjects, one in which she was able to jump around and sing silly songs. That is when she decided to become a teacher. She loves kids, especially ones who are in 5th to 8th grads. Science is her favorite subject to teach because it's something that's alive and all around us.

After reading this you know she is a great teacher, but I bet you don't know this. She does not have a t.v. because she thinks books are better, and she'd rather have an imagination than rot her brain. She reads about three books every week. Miss Jones is in the process of writing her third book. She hopes that her books will be published some day. She has been writing and illustrating books since she was in the second grade. That's pretty cool!

Our class is glad Miss Jones is our teacher because she loves kids and makes learning fun. Also, she is always willing to stay after school to help people who need extra help. She spent time after school to read stories she wrote to us. Her crazy dances that she teaches us are really cool. Miss Jones will make a great teacher."

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ALSO, we are doing the Huge Boring State Tests currently. I learned from my cooperating teacher (who has been proctoring the tests, and reading their answers after they've handed their booklets in), that several of the students have written about me! Specifically! By name! That just makes my day!

And now, I'm off to grade papers. Joy and celebration. Hope all is just as spangly in your world.

45, the new 95

Today in health class, we were talking about why young people drink, how people change when they're drunk, and the bad things that can happen if you're not being a responsible adult.

Most of my students had insightful answers -- some had experienced violent stepfathers, others, drunken sisters who threw up all over themselves. And then, one of my students shared this gem:

"One time, my uncle got drunk and passed out on the couch. The next morning we found him, totally naked, on the front porch."

And another student shared this one:

"My dad got drunk one time, and woke up in the middle of the night. He was confused so he peed all over our T.V."

I said, "I'm sure your dad would be delighted if he knew you told this story."
"It doesn't matter," he replied. "He's 45."

And there you have it, folks. 45, the new 95.

Brain Moshing

Teaching is one of the only jobs I can think of that follows you home like a sad-eyed puppy dog. Like a puppy, grading papers and creating lesson plans takes heaping masses of time. Far more time than you would ever imagine.The downside is that your workload will not cuddle with you, or look up adoringly at you with big, wide eyes. But… it will also not pee on your carpet.

I realized lately that I measure the amount of work I have to do in inches. Not hours, or minutes, or pages, like most normal people, but inches. For example, most weekends, I have just over five inches of papers to grade. Two of those inches is Dreaded Late Work, 1 inch is of tests, and the rest is composed of various assignments. And the junk just keeps piling up. I could spend 3 hours a night grading and getting things back, and still not have it all done.

Part of the problem is really my own fault—I give them assignments that I have to grade, assignments that have open ended questions and options to draw, so we really can’t grade it in class. I’m dooming myself, and will soon be a hermit if I keep up this lifestyle.... but my kids all learn better when I give them activities like this, things that allow them to use their own strengths to complete a task. Granted, sometimes they HAVE to write an essay, or do what I say (Haha! I’m just like Aladdin’s genie… Phenomenal cosmic powers…. Itty bitty living space), because just doing what “they want” won’t help them grow strong. Unless, of course, they really like drinking milk and lifting weights.

Anyhow, the point is, I want to be the sort of teacher that teaches how students learn. Not the sort of teacher who teaches what is most convenient for me. There are too many of those. You've had them.

They've got Ben Stein voices and say things like "Please open your books to page 294. Johnny please read the paragraph entitled 'Mid-Life Crisis of the Middle Ages.' Thank you. Susie, please continue. Your assignment is 1-4 on page 299. It is due tomorrow."

In the meantime, the students are all drooling, daydreaming, or both.

I'd rather inspiration from the text and teach it my way. Reading the book is boring. I don't learn that way, and neither do they. It's more work for me, and more hours spent grading instead of sleeping, but I chose this profession because I wanted to be useful, and because I wanted to learn. Not because I wanted an easy road. So, that's what I'm getting. But, at the end of they day, its worth it.

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I think I must have written the above after sleeping for an entire day. Right now, I literally cannot see straight. I just spent another 11-hour shift at the school, and then continued working at home. It's now almost ten, and I could easily continue working for two more hours. I'm beginning to hallucinate. And they're not cute, friendly green frog hallucinations either. It's more like those terrible hallucinations Dumbo had. Was Dumbo drunk? Maybe I should get drunk. Or sleep. Maybe sleeping would be good. I haven't done that in a while.
Anyhow, it feels like all of the 6th graders have moved into my head, and are moshing. My brain is being moshed. Please, help me..... ackk....

There was, luckily, some humor today.
1) Some of my students kept referring to the Magna Carta as the Magma Carta.
2) Some of my students have started calling me their "homie" and saying things like "What up, Miss J?". These are, of course, little suburban white boys. I told them I was not part of their posse, but they just hit me with a "peace out, yo" and walked away.
3) Today we were talking about identical twins. My favorite 6th grade author (hey.... he turned me into a rapper.... could this be the reason for the above?... Hmm) today called me over and whispered in total seriousness "Hey, Miss J, did you know that Darren and I are identical twins?"

My author is a little skinny redhead with freckles and sharp elfin features. Darren is African-American.

"Oh yeah," I replied, "You know, I think I noticed that."
"Yeah. See, look. We totally have the same nose, and the same lips. The only difference really, is our hair. Mine's a different color."
"Well, but that's only because you dye yours."
"I gotta be my own person, Miss J. People kept mistaking me for him. I couldn't have that."
"Right, right."

The Chronicles of Fredrick: #6 "Fredrick gets Sick"

Once upon a time, hey wait a minute, that's a girly start, Fredrick the Wolf was walking to Taco Bell when all of the sudden Jeremy pops out of the sewer drain right behind him and yelled "Ha HA! I found my CHICKEN!" Fredrick just looked at him and laughed.

Fredrick started to walk away again and he got to Taco Bell and ordered a pack of gum and some chicken nuggets. Then we heard a loud sound in the back. It sounded like this, "Oh, Cate, my sweet love..."

Right then we knew it was Trent. Fredrick walked back there and it was Jeremy. He had his chicken dressed up as Cate. Fredrick pointed, laughed, then left, but then came back for his food. But this time, I, Trae, the Prettiest Boy Alive, was there. But I had a cold and someone had just broken into the school. No one could help Fredrick fight.

All of a sudden, this short thing walked in and said "Let's get down to buisness." It was Trent the Shorty. He was good now and for some odd reason I started to sing "Ain't No Mountain High Enough to Keep Me from Getting to You."

But Fredrick started to cough. He caught the cold. But all of a sudden, Miss J arrived singing "Yo, yo, homie dog, I think I got a cold we had no people to help fight!" Then, Chicken Little comes in, "I will rescue you from the evil monster!"

They got to school and Mrs. Wigwam was there and an Army of School Work. Chicken Little, who was almost as little as Trent, got squashed with an F. Mrs. Wigwam was bad. She stole a pen from the bank. We had to get it back.

Me and Fredrick got there and blasted Mrs. Wigwam with a burger ball of snot and stamped an A+ on the Papers, and they died.

And Miss J went into the rap buisness with her new single, "I think I got a Cold." Here it is.

"Yo, yo dog. I'm here to say I'm going to rap about today. Fredrick got sick just like Trae. The other heroes ran away. Mrs. Wigwam got defeated cuz we're clever, but Mrs. Wigwam is one of the best teachers ever.

Peace out."


P.s. Fredrick is still sick, but better because of the pack of gum.

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Fun fact: the author of this piece, interestingly enough, is the same student who created the Miss J Paper Bag Puppet. He was not, however, the student who asked me to sing myself sexy.

Think you're smart, do you?

Okay, all you smarty-pantses out there. I'll betcha two kittens and a case of orange soda that my kids are smarter than you are.

Oh no? You don't think so? I'll tell you what. 95% of my kids recieved As or Bs on the following material. See how you do. Then we'll talk. :)



(Earth Science: Fossils and More)

1. Someone who studies fossils is called a _____________________________.
2. _____________________ fossils are fossils that are mostly mineral. If a fossilized tree feels like a rock, it is this kind of fossil.
3. An example of a trace fossil is a __________________________.
4. Three substances other than sedimentary rock that can preserve things are ___________________, __________________________ and ________________________.
5. Earth is ______________ years old, roughly the same age as _________________.
6. If an element doesn’t break down over time, we call it _________________. If it does break down over time, we call it ________________.
7. The most famous sort of dating is ____________________-14 dating.
8. Large chunks of time are called ____________________. (Ex: Cenezoic _______) Smaller pieces within these large chunks are called ______________________.
9. One example of an index fossil is the ______________________.
10. To be a good index fossil, you have to be spread (all over the world/ over only a little bit of the world) and you have to have existed (for a very short time/ for a very long time).
11. The Law of Superposition says that older rocks are at the (top/bottom) and younger rocks are at the (top/bottom)
12. During this era, most of the dinosaurs appeared. _______________________
13. During this era most of the mammals appeared. _______________________

(History: The Middle Ages)

1. A lord, also called a ________________ lived in a large, self-sufficient home called a __________________. His friend, called a _________________ would swear an oath of loyalty, and was given a ____________ to live in and look after in return. Sometimes, this friend would take up arms and protect the home, if so, the friend was called a ________________. The people at the bottom who did all the dirty work were called ______________. This whole system is called ________________________.
2. Describe the formation of towns using the following words: deforestation, farm land, surplus, population

3. What were troubadours and minstrels?
   

4. Fill in the blank. The Vikings, also called _______________________ came largely from the country__________________. After traveling and conquering lands, they settled in the country _______________, and named their city __________________. At this time, they no longer called themselves Vikings, but ____________________.

5. The Norman leader ________________________________________ (3 words) crossed the English Channel, and became the first Norman king of ___________________. He mixed English and ____________________ cultures to produce the language we speak now.
6. Feudalism started to end when King John was forced to sign the __________________ __________________. Lords created this document because ________________________________
   
7. After this document was created people had the following rights: (name 2)
   

7. During the middle ages, the religion of _________________________ became more popular. Women called ______________ lived in _________________. Men who wanted to dedicate their lives to God lived in ____________________ and were called _____________________. The head monk who created the rules for living in accordance to god was named ___________________________.

8. When people go on a special journey to a religious city, it is said they are going on a _________________________________ . People, lead by ___________________________ (the same guy who was crowned “Emperor” by the Pope) that traveled with armies and promoted religion by force were part of the ________________________________.

9. Describe the effects of the crusade from the perspective of a non-Christian.

10. The Black Plague was caused by ___________________ on rats. The Black Plague lasted for ______________________ years, and killed _______________________ people.

11. Explain what each line of the popular children’s rhyme “Ring around the Rosy” really means!

A) Ring around the rosy

B) Pockets full of posies

C) Ashes, ashes

D) We all fall down.

12. Describe the effects of the plague on trade, children, arts and the church.

13. If someone calls you a “Renaissance Man” (or woman!) what does that mean?

14. Name 5 famous people from the time of the Renaissance. Include two royal members, one explorer, one inventor, and one artist.

15. If you sinned, you could buy a piece of paper from the church called an ________________ that would pardon you of your sins.

16. The man who wrote 95 Theses, _____________ ________________, thought that the selling of indulgences was wrong. His words ended up sparking a wave of change through the church called the ___________________________.

17. _____________________ _____________________ was the first man to use metal letters in a printing press, which revolutionized Europe. His printing press was used to print bibles and indulgences.

18. People under the leadership of Martin Luther who protested against the church formed a new group of Christians called ___________________________.

19. King Henry VIII didn’t like the Roman Catholic Church because it wouldn’t let him ____________________________________. So, he stopped funding it, and started a new Protestant church, called the Church of England.

20. The English armada, under _____________________________’s rule, beat the Spanish’s armada because the English boat’s were _______________ and had better ______________.

I am so damn glamorous.

Well, my students really got my appearance down. Part moose, part hooker. All glam, baby.

Check out that lip gloss, man. I don't care what you say. I'm the hottest paper bag puppet you'll ever see.

*sob*

The Chronicles of Fredrick: #5 "Miss J's Cranky Pants"

To begin with, I was walking to McDonalds with Fredrick. We got to McDonalds safely and Fredrick asked for a bowl of cereal. I got some raviols. And then I heard someone. I turned around. It was Trent. Or was it Michael Jackson? It looked like Trent but it was Michael Jackson. I think they're twins.

I was walking home and I started to choke on air. I coughed up a hairball. Fredrick smelled the hairball. It smelled like pickles.

Suddenly, I heard a growl. It was Evil Blobs! Fredrick smacked the Blob and said "Ruff, ruff! You're an Evil Blob!"

We knew Trent and Jeremy sent them. I told the Evil Blob to tell me where Jeremy and Trent were, and I would get them a girlfriend. They showed us where they were. They were at this really cool office in the "Girl's Bathroom."

Jeremy was wearing a dress and eating chicken. Trent, well, Trent was being Trent. They started to fight, so I just looked at my pretty self in the mirror.

Fredrick flushed Jeremy's chicken down the toilet, and Jeremy ran away crying. Trent had twenty more people to help him.

Miss J walked in and everybody ran because she had her Cranky Pants on. Miss J saved the day.

The End.


P.s. Fredrick turned into a rapper.

"I'm Fredrick the dog and I'm here to stay. I'm going to show Trent and Jeremy what's up today. I'm going to him them in the face, make them tie my shoelace. If I get caught, no need to worry, I'll get Miss J here in a hurry. My best friend is Trae, not Lory, and that's the end of the story."

P.p.s. The Blobs got their deal. I got them girlfriends named Trent and Jeremy.
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Yeah, that's RIGHT. You had BETTER run when I've got my Cranky Pants* on!


* Cranky Pants curtesy of my dear former-roomie, Nija.

The Chronicles of Fredrick: #4 "Fredrick's First Christmas"

Chronicles of Fredrick: Fredrick’s First Christmas

Well, here's more proof that there's something in the water in this city. At least, in this story, I am not being asked to lose my shirt.

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Once about a time Fredrick was walking and found a note that said “Kidnap him and take him to the ice cave,” and at the bottom it said “Jeremy.” Right then, it popped up in his head “Jeremy! He’s our arch enemy!”

So he went to find me to help rescue the kidnapped kid. I had left a note, “I went to the taco shack.”

Fredrick knew he couldn’t do this mission on his alone so he went to the North Pole and got Santa. Santa said “Ho, ho, ho!”

Fredrick said “What the heck is a ho ho ho? Is that like a triple twinkie? I’ve had a Ho Ho before, but just not a ho ho ho. Oh, well. Just come ON!”

They got halfway there until Santa said “I forgot my pants.”

Fredrick looked down and said “What are the funny looking creatures on your underwear?”

He said “That’s the Teletubbies.”

They got the pants, found an ice cave, went into it, and came out with Mexican hats. There was a Mexican polar bear in there. They found another cave, and it was The Cave. They saw the kid… it was me!

Wait a minunte. How am I telling the story? Oh, well. Anyway, Fredrick sprang into action. Santa sat and ate donuts. That was Jeremy’s food…. Fredrick turned around and Jeremy took off the Santa mask. It was just Fredrick now, until Miss J sprang into action.

But Miss J was wearing funny looking clothes. It was an Easter Bunny outfit! She unlocked me, and we started to fight back. I punched Jeremy but his fat sucked me in and I was stuck. Fredrick did a super duper loka poka kick. It hit Jeremy and I flew out. Jeremy flew into, wait! He turned into a Rolli Polli!

Now the real Santa was here. I’m scared of Rolli Pollis so I ran to the other room. There, I saw Trent so I kicked him. We needed one more person to defeat these monsters. Well, actually, Jeremy was a Rolli Polli and Trent was the only one we had to fight. But then, out of nowhere, King Tut popped up and hit Trent!

Trent flew into a cage and we locked him up.

So the Super Heroes and King Tut won!

Yaaaaaaaaay!

And the last thing I said to Fredrick was “Merry Christmas!”

Fredrick said “What’s that?”

“Oh well. Here’s a present—a Jeremy doll to chew on.”

Well, that's disturbing...

The Assignment:

1. Research 3 people from the Renaissance (explorers, royalty, painters, philosophers, writers and so on)
2. With a partner, write a 2 minute long play involving said Renaissance people, using facts you’ve gathered about their lives and personalities.
3. Perform play with WICKEDLY RAD PUPPETS! (that you make yourselves)

Inspired Questions and Conversations:

“Can I do Michelangelo, Donatello, and Raphael? I want to turn them into the Ninja turtles.”

“Miss J? We’re doing Henry VIII… and he eats, like, everything in sight. So we were wondering… can we have him eat you too? ”

“…. Well, are you going to rescue me?”

“Of course, Miss J!”

“Well, then. Go ahead!”

(I may regret this decision later…)

“You said we could use extra characters. Can I have Pac-Man/Scooby Doo/The Power Rangers/Sponge Bob in mine?”

“Who’s Annie Bowlin’?”

“You mean Anne Boleyn?”

And, by far, the most disturbing….

“Miss J…. you’re in our play. Is it okay if we make you sing “I’m too sexy for my shirt?”

*totally incredulous, appalled, disgusted look*

“I am totally appalled and disgusted by what you’ve just said. That is both inappropriate and disrespectful. Would you like me to call your mother and repeat what you’ve just said to me?”

*look of total sheepishness*

“No. Sorry. Hey! I know! Can we have you say ‘I’m too cool for my shirt’?”

Well, that’s a trip to the principal’s office.

Ahh, the joys of teaching.

(Note: on the day of this appalling comment, I was wearing the standard Miss J outfit—turtleneck sweater, black dress pants, black blazer. Not provocative! Plus, I’ve been blowing my nose for the last four weeks. I thought that alone would make me Gross and Disgusting…. but apparently not.)

The Chronicles of Fredrick: #3 "Fredrick Gets His First Power"

Story #3 from my hilarious student.
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Today me and Fredrick were walking down to the beach. I was thinking about burritos even though I don't like them. All the sudden, Fredrick jumps in the air.

"Why are you talking about burritos?"
"I'm not. I'm thinking of them."

Suddenly, I jumped into the air. "Fredrick you've got burrito senses! Or you can just read people's minds!"

We got to the beach and Trent and Jeremy were there this time. They had a new sidekick. Her name was Mrs. Wigwam the Teacher of Evil. I told Fredrick to read their minds and he did.
Well, Trent was thinking of Cate, and Jeremy and Mrs. Wigwam were thinking of drowning us in burrito sauce, and also thinking of the new French Wrap To Go Meals from Taco Bell.

Fredrick sprung into action and used a mighty kick but Mrs. Wigwam used her Evil Rays and Blasted Fredrick into their evil Taco Bell cave. Then I was up for a taco so I sprung into action. But Mrs. Wigwam threw a quesadilla at me and it hit me in the face. I went flying back and I was trapped in the evil cave. Tune in next week to see what happens.

I'm just messing with you. All the sudden, we hear a crash on the top of the cave. I knew it was Miss J the Super Teacher of the World. She hasn't got the flying down pat yet, but she's getting there.

She busted through the taco door. Miss J went to the back of the cave. Snake Man did all the fighting. Snake Man wrapped around Jeremy and let go. Jeremy went spinning and crashed into a tank of cow manure. Now we knew what their secret recipe was. I went to tell Miss J but I was too late, Miss J was eating away.

She ran into a bad taco so she threw it and it hit Mrs. Wigwam right in the face. Mrs. Wigwam flew into a box of taco sauce. I trapped her.

Out of nowhere, Trent blasted Miss J into the sky, but Snake Man caught her. Fredrick read Trent's mind. Trent was thinking about Cate agin.

"Hold on! Stop the story!" Trent yelled. "You're evil! I don't thionk about Cate! ...Talk about evil. All right. Action!"

Fredrick blasted Trent with his rainbow of burritos and Trent flew to Jupiter.

So, Mrs. Wigwam was unconscious by the bad taco, and Jeremy was knocked out in the cow manure and was eating it too. Trent was on Jupiter dreaming of Cate.

The End.

Four Inches of Tree Vomit

A tree barfed on my desk. Look at that. That’s TWO DAYS worth of stuff. That’s IT. Two days of papers and it’s what… four inches high?

Well, now you know what I’ll be up to all weekend.

More later when I've reclaimed my sanity.

My Brain is Dripping Out of my Nose

When they told me that teachers only have 10 sick days a year, I thought “Ten sick days?! That’s a ton! That’s like having two weeks off from school! Woah!” And then all sorts of fantasies took over. Fantasies of built up sick days used for tropical vacations, swimming in turquoise waters, lounging in a hammock, hiking in verdant hills.

I sighed happily. I was going to amass so much time off. Who would ever use up ten whole days?

But now I’m sick. For the third week in a row. And my tune has changed. It once was an operatic ballad of love and devotion, and now, it’s pretty much the foghorn-like sound of noses being blowed.

In the last three days, I’ve blown my nose so much that I’ve gone through 3 rolls of toilet paper. That’s …let’s see if I can to do the math here…. a roll a day. That, ladies and gentlemen, is a lot of snot. I’m beginning to think that it’s brain matter that’s being blown out. It would explain my retarding mental skills as of late. Another terrible thing: I’ve gotten used to sleeping with my mouth open. Good God! At first it was so terrible, waking up with that horrible dry mouth, feeling like I had been partially mummified in the desert sands. And now, it’s automatic and I don't even notice. *heavy sigh*

Every single dreaded disease my lovely little darlings get… I get. I feel like I’ve weathered the measles, mumps and rubella. Ebola, cholera, influenza. Small pox, chicken pox, buzzard pox, lizard socks. I would not eat them with a fox, I would not eat them in a box. I would not like green eggs and ham…. Oh lord. See? Remember that mental retardation I was talking about? Turns out it leads to two appalling outcomes… rhyming and vast amounts of exaggeration. I apologize now, for anything further I might say.

The only thing I haven’t gotten yet, aside from scurvy, is PINK EYE. Can you imagine? Your eyes discharge some gooey puss-like substance until they cement themselves closed! How totally disgusting would that be? Now, I can handle a lot of gross things. March through horse manure on a rainy day? Okay. Skin a cat? Okay. Wash three-week-old molding dishes… well, okay. I'll be honest. That I can’t handle.

But pink eye. Oh, how I dread pink eye. If I get pink eye, I think I might die. Uh oh….. Stop reading now! The rhyme is returning! My eyes are a-water, my body is burning. My nose is still dripping and temperature’s soaring, my feet are a-tripping and ears are a-roaring.
I think it’d be best if I went straight to bed, and I pray that this sickness doesn’t infect your head!

The Chronicles of Fredrick: #1 " My Way To Grandmal's House"

I can't very well post story #2 without posting story #1!

The start of this whole thing actually started out as a vocabulary assignment... the kids had to use 5 vocabulary words in their stories, but could write about whatever they wanted. I'll give you a cookie if you can find all 5 vocab words. :)

(p.s. ... is "Grandmal" a bad Grandmother?)
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To start with, I was walking through the woods. The woods were as black as midnight. Next thing you know, I heard "How you doing?" It was a wolf. I named him Fredrick.
The wolf had a really good disposition. Disposition means like good personality.
Next, I hear a noise. I turn around. It was a mouse! Man, I was so scared, I almost wet myself.

Next, I was almost through the woods. I heard another noise. It was a Rolli Polli. I started to cry because I was so scared but Fredrick cheered me up by dancing like a fairy (Tinkerbell). I got distraught from watching him, so I squashed him and we left.

We were almost through the woods when I thought I heard a hunter.

Finally, we were around the corner of Grandmal's house and I saw a guy point a gun at Fredrick! I knew I was feeling apprehensive and I knew something bad was going to happen. I jumped in front of Fredrick and I got shot. I was down for like 4 hours until I noticed I got shot by a water gun. Then I got up and me and Fredrick got to Grandmal's

As soon as I got there I went to the bathroom. Lets just say I had to use air freshener after I was done. Then, I told G-mal what happened, and I couldn't stop fidgeting.

The French Invasion

6^th graders are incredibly creative. Teachers learn this immediately—where is your homework? Oh, you were caught in a whirlpool of destruction and it got washed away? A sasquatch took it, mistaking it for a tuna sandwich? Your mom put it in the bottom of your parakeet’s cage? The good thing: as a teacher, you almost never have to hear the same thing twice. Middle-schoolers are all about the variation of a theme.

The girl, for example, who thought it was fun to get her butt stuck in the garbage can one week, thought it would be a good idea to wear it as a hat the next (Note: the "it" in this sentence refers to the garbage can. Not her butt. She was not, I repeat, not using her butt as a hat. Some teachers, however, will beg to differ). School’s changed a lot from when I was a kid if putting a garbage can on your head helps make you the Epitome of Cool. But I digress.

A week or so ago, we were working on painting life-sized sarcophaguses. I was in corner, channeling Annie Oakley. My paints spurted color into trays with dead accuracy. I was a gunslinger of paint, a sharp shooter of pigment. A quick handed color mixer.

Once everyone was set, and my paints were back in their holsters, I moseyed from group to group, checking progress, and making sure paint wasn’t being used inappropriately (as, for example, in the shape of genitalia on another’s arm or face. …Trust me. This sort of thing happens.)

Suddenly, amidst the chatter and laughter I heard a voice. With a French accent.

I turned around, narrowed my eyes. A French accent was something that just didn’t belong in these parts. But the accent, with all its smarminess, stopped. In its place was a burst of laughter. Annie Oakley was good, but this job called for someone else. Someone… sneaky.

I crept across the room, Mission: Impossible theme playing in my head. The source of the laughter wasn’t far. I only had to make it a couple more yards. Carefully…. Carefully…. Aha! There it was again! The accent had returned! In my head, cool laughter echoed. I would get them. They couldn’t pull a fast one on ME! My short stature camouflaged me. My ears picked up the sound of a whisper from across the crowded room. My skin tingled—there was mischief going on. Right here. Right now. I was quieter than a desert night. I was sneakier than a summer breeze. I was Secret Agent 00 Awesome.

Oh, and the consequences would be brilliant. First, I would unleash a terrible weapon—Teacher Look #1. In non-classroom culture, this is simply known as “The Look.” Mothers have it. Persnickety aunts have it. And yes, teachers have it. I would shoot them The Look, that diamond hard expression of disapproval, and they’d stop in their tracks. My face, glacier cold, would freeze them. Laughter would be choked out, and work would ensue. Glorious work. They’d produce masterpieces not unlike the Mona Lisa. They’d wield paintbrushes like conductors wield wands, knights swords. They would work, and it would be grand.

Satisfied with the beginnings of my plan, I crept closer. Feet away now, inches. The French accent ringing in my ears. Not one voice, but many. Three, four, five. The West had been taken over. The French had invaded.

“Wee, wee!” the voice started.

“Gentlemen?” My voice cut through the group, quiet, but unmistakable, like the sound of a wick sizzling. Already The Look was cementing on my face. I was ready. Were they?

Slowly, the group turned around.

MAYDAY! MAYDAY! a panicked voice screamed in my head. OH GOD, MAYDAY! Secret Agent 00 Awesome would like to request immediate backup! What? Super Agents don’t get backup? SHIT! My Look was crumbling! Even worse… a smile was beginning to tug at my lips.

“Yes, mademoiselle?” one said. “Our group eez just feenishing.”

On his face was a clear piece of tape, placed right above his upper lip. Drawn on the tape… a mustache. A thin, ratty mustache, curling at the ends. Another looked like Groucho Marx. Another bore the striking resemblance to a walrus. Another, an unfortunate blonde Hitler.

I felt something in my stomach. A certain tightness. Oh, no. Oh no! It couldn’t be! I had to stop it! It would ruin everything. Retreat, I though. Retreat! But, it was too late. The damage was done. Laughter exploded from my lips; The Look evaporated and turned into a cloud of kindness.

Secret Agent 00 Awesome was dead. And she took The Look with her. In my head a new plan formed. Cool laughter turned maniacal. To penetrate this crowd, I had to think like them. Look like them. Serve as a double agent. Change the ranks from within.

I was no longer 00 Agent Awesome, with all her quiet glamour. Nor was I Annie, sharp-shooting siren. I was Slippery Sam. Counterfeit Carl. Dastardly Duane. Black cape, pinstripe suit, long hair tucked into black top hat. And oh yes. A mustache.