On Monday, the best thing happens:
My "nephew" joins my class again! HOORAY!
Jesus = one of the best kids EVER. Also, he keeps saying he's gonna call "mom" and "grama"....so sis and mom, I'd be waiting for some silliness......
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Starting off the New Year RIGHT!
In the last week.....
1. A kid threw fireworks at the portables. You know. Where the little 4th graders and special ed kids are. Twice. Got suspended for 6 days.
2. A kid (maybe the same one) threw a burning stick into our field. And burnt half of it down. The firemen had to come and hose it with all their might.
3. Several 7th graders got drunk on tequila IN THE MIDDLE OF CLASS. Told the teacher it was apple juice. Got suspended. (Also, hilarious to note, some of the drunken debauchery happened in the same room where pot was being passed around and sold earlier this year...Apparently Mr. B's classroom is partay-central)
4. I have been called a table dancer and was told (once again) that I had a "phat" booty. Also was told I had my "eyes shoved up my anus." And when I nonchalantly told a girl, after lunch, that she had "crap on her butt" (meaning, not actual crap...just that she sat in something and might want to run to the restroom for a second), she snottily replied "Maybe you should lick it off."
5. Heard at least five conversations about virginity-- who has lost theirs and who hasn't yet. A must do on the 8th grade check off list, apparently. (No pun intended. Ugh.)
Welcome to middle school in 2009, folks.
1. A kid threw fireworks at the portables. You know. Where the little 4th graders and special ed kids are. Twice. Got suspended for 6 days.
2. A kid (maybe the same one) threw a burning stick into our field. And burnt half of it down. The firemen had to come and hose it with all their might.
3. Several 7th graders got drunk on tequila IN THE MIDDLE OF CLASS. Told the teacher it was apple juice. Got suspended. (Also, hilarious to note, some of the drunken debauchery happened in the same room where pot was being passed around and sold earlier this year...Apparently Mr. B's classroom is partay-central)
4. I have been called a table dancer and was told (once again) that I had a "phat" booty. Also was told I had my "eyes shoved up my anus." And when I nonchalantly told a girl, after lunch, that she had "crap on her butt" (meaning, not actual crap...just that she sat in something and might want to run to the restroom for a second), she snottily replied "Maybe you should lick it off."
5. Heard at least five conversations about virginity-- who has lost theirs and who hasn't yet. A must do on the 8th grade check off list, apparently. (No pun intended. Ugh.)
Welcome to middle school in 2009, folks.
Monday, January 12, 2009
Not 40
I'm always trying to create analogies to connect sciencey-gobbledy-gook to the lives of my students-- something most of my teachers never did for me. I'm getting into the real basics of chemistry (as in serious basics... these kids don't even know what MATTER is. I say "What's matter?" and they say "Nothin, what's the matter with you?" ....No joke.)
I compared elements to the colors blue, yellow and red-- colors that make (nearly) all of the other colors. Pure substances. Etc. I also tried to compare the subatomic particles to their genes.
"Okay, so in each of your cells you have your DNA, which is what makes you.... YOU. I can't take one of Bayron's cells and get a piece of Daisy hair from it. No matter if you get fatter, skinnier, dye your hair blue, pierce your tongue twelve times, or start riding on a hippo to school... You're still you. Right?"
"Right."
"Okay. That's like a proton. The number of protons in an atom code for what kind of element it is, just like your DNA codes for you. So, there's gold, and carbon, and oxygen and krypton and all sorts of good stuff. Every time you've got 6 protons, it's gonna be carbon. Just like any cell I take from Pedro's gonna code for Pedro. Every time I've got 2 protons, it's gonna be helium. Got it?"
"Got it." (Good little drones.)
And then I say this...... to my rambunctious, sexually-charged, insane, wild, rowdy bunch.
"So, the variation in elements comes from the number of protons, but the specific number of protons will always make the same element. So, just like, again my DNA. It doesn't matter how I change as a person, I'm always gonna have the same DNA.
There's a five year old version of me... and a forty year old virgin of ......"
Silence.
Then? Insane, chimpanzee like laughter.
I smacked my forehead. "Oh crap."
The kids, crimson faced, laughed on.
"Dude, Miss J! You gotta get on that!!!"
"
I compared elements to the colors blue, yellow and red-- colors that make (nearly) all of the other colors. Pure substances. Etc. I also tried to compare the subatomic particles to their genes.
"Okay, so in each of your cells you have your DNA, which is what makes you.... YOU. I can't take one of Bayron's cells and get a piece of Daisy hair from it. No matter if you get fatter, skinnier, dye your hair blue, pierce your tongue twelve times, or start riding on a hippo to school... You're still you. Right?"
"Right."
"Okay. That's like a proton. The number of protons in an atom code for what kind of element it is, just like your DNA codes for you. So, there's gold, and carbon, and oxygen and krypton and all sorts of good stuff. Every time you've got 6 protons, it's gonna be carbon. Just like any cell I take from Pedro's gonna code for Pedro. Every time I've got 2 protons, it's gonna be helium. Got it?"
"Got it." (Good little drones.)
And then I say this...... to my rambunctious, sexually-charged, insane, wild, rowdy bunch.
"So, the variation in elements comes from the number of protons, but the specific number of protons will always make the same element. So, just like, again my DNA. It doesn't matter how I change as a person, I'm always gonna have the same DNA.
There's a five year old version of me... and a forty year old virgin of ......"
Silence.
Then? Insane, chimpanzee like laughter.
I smacked my forehead. "Oh crap."
The kids, crimson faced, laughed on.
"Dude, Miss J! You gotta get on that!!!"
"
Tuesday, January 06, 2009
Rant
I think the span from mid-October until Christmas break is the hardest time of the year-- its filled with so many breaks and so much excitement, that the kids don't want to do anything. Even the motivated ones. You find yourself reteaching, and turning into even more of an Evil Dictator (I cannot count the number of times I've heard "Miss J, you're MEAN!" Yeah, I know. Get over it.) so you can nip behavior in the bud before it gets even worse.
Now, its January, and though I should be well rested from two weeks of vacation, I'm worse off than before. I am completely, entirely exhausted.
To make matters worse, Monday when we walked in....there was no paper in the copy room. Those of us who were there early were scrambling. Wondering-- where the hell did all the paper go? There was a ton in here... wasn't there?
And then, an answer. But not via e-mail. Through the rumor mill. Someone had moved all the paper out. Boss's orders. We will be getting two boxes (16 measly reams) of paper. To last us for the rest of the year. But wasn't provided Monday morning for our usage. OR even today, Tuesday. There's been no official word on anything, as a matter of fact.
But, regardless of how many people this plan would throw off, there was no communication. No warning us. Or having any sort of conversation along the lines of "Hey guys, if we don't cut down on paper usage...this is what's going to happen". Then, you know, maybe "This will be going into effect on This Date, please send two kids down to get your paper."
But no. Nothing. So, all of us who didn't have copies made before break were out of luck. Read: all of us were out of luck. Mostly. There were a few scraps of pink paper I managed to snatch before anyone else got to them. A few teachers were early enough to finish the last bits of other colors. But mostly? We were out of luck. On a Monday morning. After break.
This is the sort of thing that infuriates me and makes me not want to teach here. Its the principal of the matter-- communicate before you make a decision. We don't even have to be in on the decision, but damn it, someone should at least tell us what's happening. Preferably before it happens.
This sort of crappy little thing happens all the time. A lot of it trickles down from the district level which is a total disaster. Nothing is efficient, nothing is orderly. My pay is hilarious. Yet, I easily spend 4 extra hours a night STILL making things for these kids. And they want to keep me. Because, despite how furious I feel sometimes, I'm a good teacher. And I like my kids. Everything I do is for my kids.
But for this? For the headaches and the stress and the feelings of inadequacy, and the lack of parental support, and the lack of materials, the lack of background knowledge of the kids, the lack of communication, the lack of schedules.... I don't think I can do this again.
At least, not here.
I'm starting to develop a bad attitude, and I don't want it.
I'm not the person to complain about things-- roll with the punches and do what you can's always been more of my motto.... but you know what, enough is enough.
I am a professional. I work so that I don't see the sun. I am completely invested in my kids. And I am treated with little regard. And that, my friends, makes me angry.
Now, its January, and though I should be well rested from two weeks of vacation, I'm worse off than before. I am completely, entirely exhausted.
To make matters worse, Monday when we walked in....there was no paper in the copy room. Those of us who were there early were scrambling. Wondering-- where the hell did all the paper go? There was a ton in here... wasn't there?
And then, an answer. But not via e-mail. Through the rumor mill. Someone had moved all the paper out. Boss's orders. We will be getting two boxes (16 measly reams) of paper. To last us for the rest of the year. But wasn't provided Monday morning for our usage. OR even today, Tuesday. There's been no official word on anything, as a matter of fact.
But, regardless of how many people this plan would throw off, there was no communication. No warning us. Or having any sort of conversation along the lines of "Hey guys, if we don't cut down on paper usage...this is what's going to happen". Then, you know, maybe "This will be going into effect on This Date, please send two kids down to get your paper."
But no. Nothing. So, all of us who didn't have copies made before break were out of luck. Read: all of us were out of luck. Mostly. There were a few scraps of pink paper I managed to snatch before anyone else got to them. A few teachers were early enough to finish the last bits of other colors. But mostly? We were out of luck. On a Monday morning. After break.
This is the sort of thing that infuriates me and makes me not want to teach here. Its the principal of the matter-- communicate before you make a decision. We don't even have to be in on the decision, but damn it, someone should at least tell us what's happening. Preferably before it happens.
This sort of crappy little thing happens all the time. A lot of it trickles down from the district level which is a total disaster. Nothing is efficient, nothing is orderly. My pay is hilarious. Yet, I easily spend 4 extra hours a night STILL making things for these kids. And they want to keep me. Because, despite how furious I feel sometimes, I'm a good teacher. And I like my kids. Everything I do is for my kids.
But for this? For the headaches and the stress and the feelings of inadequacy, and the lack of parental support, and the lack of materials, the lack of background knowledge of the kids, the lack of communication, the lack of schedules.... I don't think I can do this again.
At least, not here.
I'm starting to develop a bad attitude, and I don't want it.
I'm not the person to complain about things-- roll with the punches and do what you can's always been more of my motto.... but you know what, enough is enough.
I am a professional. I work so that I don't see the sun. I am completely invested in my kids. And I am treated with little regard. And that, my friends, makes me angry.
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