Sigh.

I miss my class from last year.

Even the kids that made me crazy.

Why? My new homeroom... is sadly without personality. Most of the girls are sweet, but without any moxie. The rest are just flirtatious but without any creativity. I have no faux nephews or Professors. I also have no glinting eyed mischevious instigators. Just... a group of weirdos that whisper to each other but don't participate. What IS that?!

Luckily, my second class is full of energy and craziness. They come in shouting raucous greetings but INSTANTLY settle down when I need them to. They participate and ask good questions and MOST of them actually do their homework. AMAZING! With the exception of a couple of girls that seem to have their Bitch Highlighters on... they're fabulous. I miss them when they leave.

A handful of my old students visit me... but a couple of my favorites don't! Its heartbreaking. Sigh. I feel like a mom whose kids went off to school. Only, I'm still at school with them.

The Water Cycle, Yo.

Kids don't get as much poetry as they should. Also, they think they don't like poetry. BUT, they like rap.

So, to build their vocabularies, and to enhance their poetry analyzing skillz (yes, with a z), I used a water cycle "rap" to knock their socks off. You ready for this?

Ah-hem.

Precipitation births every nation
Warm, wet rain without consternation
Flora and fauna, bursting with elation
While the people rain dance
Below the constellations

Wishing for a desert aberration
For sleet, snow, hail there’s no occupation
See the rain come down like liquid lamination
While the cacti expand in slow animation

Heat beats down and evaporation
Turns wetness to a vapory creation
Till the cool clouds come and
End their vacations
Creating dew & droplet unification

Condensation in isolation
Where the heat meets cold in great determination
Think of it as steam simplification
Yeah, the mist clumps up in great harmonization

Precipitation, cloud perforation
Water falls fast without coordination
And it all cycles on without discrimination
To the water cycle, I make this dedication.

Kids were pounding out beats on their desks and cracking up at this white girl from the midwest rhyming fast and furious. One kid actually shouted out "Daaaaaaaamn, Miss J!"
That's RIGHT.

Of course, another had to pipe in "Rap artists don't use such big words." YEAH WELL, they do if they're INTELLIGENT. Shoot. Now I have to go find some intelligent hip hop to prove them wrong....

Later, as I read some of my kids water cycle booklets, I saw one kid had written condensation as "condomsation". Well, just can't beat that, can ya?

P.p.s. Freedom Writers

Last thing, I swear.

Yesterday, Erin Gruwell (sp?), the teacher behind the Freedom Writer's fame, came to speak to our entire district! Woah! How crazy is that?

She was totally inspiring and a surprisingly hilarious speaker. I sat there thinking.... I could do what she did. I could do something incredible and have my story made into books and movies.

Now I just have to figure out what that thing IS.

Any ideas?

P.s.

Also, I don't know if I mentioned... but for the 200 multiple choice questions I had to answer for my Arizona State testing....

I got a perfect score.

BOOYAH!

I think even Yoda would be proud.

Mucho Dinero

For the last three days, I've been attending meetings, setting up my classroom, and going insane. School starts... MONDAY!
The upside? My classroom looks fricken gorgeous. Pictures will soon follow, I promise.

The other good news? I'm 98% sure I'm going to be the sole team leader next year. That means... MORE MONEY! (And...more responsibility... but how great is it that I can put that on my resume already?)

Also, I'm on the school improvement/leadership team. That means.... MORE MONEY!

AND, I'm running student council (which, ironically, I know nothing about. But it is better than running *cough* cheerleading) with a totally sweet 8th grade teacher (and by "sweet" I mean "cute" and "male"). And you know what that means....

MORE MONEY! (You better not be thinking anything pervy either.)

And lastly, while not related to monies... I get to teach SCIENCE, MATH and HISTORY!

Heck yes!

It is going to be a kick-ass year.

Next Year

Next year...

I'll be teaching the following:

1. Language! -- a scripted, phonics-based program
2. Language Arts -- using reading strategies, writing
3. Ancient History

The good things: Only 2 lessons to plan each day! 60 kids a day instead of 30-- so if a kid makes me bonkers, I don't have to deal with him/her all day long. Less stress. More time for after school clubs. Team teaching means more collaboration.

The bad things: Only 2 lessons a day! Repetitive lessons can get boring. I'll miss teaching science and math. 60 kids now rely on me to teach them how to read. EEK!


Also, fantastically, I've been chosen to be part of the leadership team, to lead our 6th grade team, and to start the drama club.

Booyah!

I'm so glad not to have 1st year status anymore.

New Pet

Yesterday, I acquired a new pet. And then I killed it.

Say what?!

Let me explain.

I walked into my bedroom just in time to see a creature scampering across my carpet.
Well, let's be honest.
It wasn't scampering. It was scurrying. I had flipped on the light and it wasn't happy about it. It twitched its little antennae. And then fled behind my shoe rack.

A ROACH!!! I was horrified. I whipped out a Shaniqua-like voice and said
"Oh hell no! Not in MY house!"

Snap, snap, snap.

I sprayed the repugnant demon with Windex, then my magnificent cat cornered him for me and pawed him into submission. Then, I scooped up the horrific little bastard into a yogurt cup and maniacally laughed as he swirled down my toilet bowl. I imagined his tiny, crackly, roach-voice screaming. Which made me feel better because my internal, crackly, girl-voice had been screaming moments earlier.

Now don't get me wrong, I love creatures. Snakes are fabulous, slimy worms are fun. I'm okay with spiders. Mosquitoes are annoying, but I can deal with them. Ants-- a minor irritant. Scorpions are kind of terrifying, but fascinating. But roaches?! To the toilet!

I don't care if they're Miracles of Evolution (is that an oxymoron?). If Mr. Roach comes into my house, and he's history.

Ancient history.
Atlantis's history.
Down into the water you go.

What I learned at my teaching conference...

So, after attending a teaching convention for five days I learned a lot of things.

1. You've got to feel psychologically safe before you can participate in group work.
2. Most people look at data the wrong way, and thus, feel judged by it.
3. A room full of teachers and administrators is both a wonderous and terrifying place.
4. Teachers really do have the best stories.

Such as....

Earlier this year, a bunch of 5th grade boys on my campus found a bag.
Filled with sex toys.
Used sex toys.
And the receipt was still in the bag.

Can't beat that, can you?


.

Wonderful Things #1

Wonderful things about living in Arizona:

1. You get to live in 100+ degree heat. Today, I was lucky. Today, I experienced 106 degree weather. I say "weather" because its the only thing that changes from day to day. Tomorrow, its likely to be 108. Then later, 110. Sunny. No clouds. No humidity. Just varying degrees of eyeball- scorching heat. What's sad is that I can tell when its above 110. Then, its truly miserable.

Thermometers here should read:
Warm.
Warmer.
Surprisingly, yet Comfortably, Hot.
Eyebrow-Raising Hot.
Can't Walk on Concrete without Burning your Feet Hot.
Don't Bother Driving-- your Car is an Oven, Hot.
Don't Bother Leaving your Apartment at all Hot.
Eyebrow-Burning Hot.
Tears Evaporate Hot.
Magma Evaporates Hot.
Depths of Hell Hot.

At least they have named places down here accordingly.
Tempe. That's an easy one. Tempe is just a shortened form for TEMPERATURE. As in, you'll feel like you've got one as soon as you enter the city. No, sir. That's not a bbq. That's your own skin you smell burning. And I'll bet you taste just like chicken... or maybe not a chicken... maybe a.....

Phoenix. What is a phoenix, you ask? Why, its a bird rising from the ashes after it had BURST INTO FLAME. Mmm. Delicous.

Peoria. Now, here's a toughie. Luckily, I've got insider eyes. Originally, settlers came from Peoria, IL and settled in the NW Phoenix area. Like those settlers, I too migrated from Peoria. So, I can guess as to their motivations-- Peoria, IL is a hellhole. Those poor bastards trekked 1,700 miles and, I'm guessing, stopped when they were struck by beauty. Both Peorias are pretty-- no argument there.
However pretty, both have their own distinct dangers. In IL? A symphony of sirens and gunshots. Here you've got the scorching sun, stabbing cacti instead of trees, post-apocalyptic rubble instead of grass, snipers and car thieves a plenty.

Famous last words? "But, it is a DRY heat, honey!"



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Brainsnot

Well, my brain has officially turned into snot. I think the Egyptians were right in their theory... mine could easily be taken out with a hook and thrown away.

Today, I spent roughly 7 hours trying to prove to the state that I'm not completely incompetent. Two tests, professional aptitude and content. Six pages of essay, two hundred extremely wordy multiple choice questions later... and my brain is mush. After a while, the words were starting to swim in front of my eyes. Sweet little backstrokes.

I had forgotten how wretched standardized testing is, and how easy it is to feel like "screw it, I'm tired, I don't care anymore!" Hopefully I'll remember this next year, and can help my poor students better when they have to run the gamut.

In a couple weeks, I'll let you know if I passed. Now, its time to pass out. Sayonara, folks!

Final Bell

The bell rang today.

And my kids all stood still, turned to statues by the sound that usually sent them scurrying to their seats. They stood still. Then, some of them started to cry. And then, they all began to hug each other.

They wouldn't leave. My divas, my trouble-makers, my clowns all coagulating in the middle of my room.

Some days are exhausting, but I love my kids and my job. I am so proud of everything they've learned. The worst part, by far, is seeing them walk out my door.

Sadako gets her Wish

When I was in 5th grade, a woman named Ako Hotehama visited us from Japan. She taught us the story of Sadako, and showed us how to fold paper cranes. My class folded as many as we could (I folded hundreds by myself), and sent them back with her to place at the Children's Monument in Hiroshima. I never did know whatever became of Ako or the cranes.

Then, this summer, I had the opportunity to go to Hiroshima. I remembered the story of Sadako, and as I stood by the monument, I started to tear up. I only had 75 cranes to offer this time-- not the hundreds I'd made in the past-- but it was something.

Fast forward to the current time. My students have read Sadako's story. They've read all about everything from the Treaty of Versailles to the Manhattan Project. They can tell you all about the horrors of war. And they, like myself, wanted to make Sadako's wish come true.

As of yesterday, we did it-- we folded 1,000 cranes. Over a thousand, actually.

So, I'm sending them to Japan. Stringing them in garlands of a hundred, packing them in a box, and shipping them to Sadako's monument.

My students are leaving hundreds upon hundreds of messages of hope and peace, and even more importantly-- they can become part of something bigger. When the cranes reach Japan, our class information will be put in the national registry, and my students will forever be able to look up our class and, for once, be proud of something that's left the classroom instead of just something that happens within it.

My Lack of Maturation

So, today, we had the "Maturation Assemblies."
Translation: the girls and boys of 6th grade got to learn about... PUBERTY! Woo! FUN!

(Side note: I really hate when people pronounce the word "poo-ber-ty," don't you?)

I thought I was going to be stuck with all the girls, listening about the joys of menstruation, but instead, I had the rare opportunity to babysit a group of young lads who didn't have their permission slips signed (which made me laugh-- the kids weren't responsible enough to hand in a slip about maturing? Ha! Sweet irony.).

Anyhow, next door to me, the boys were having their nice little chat.

I figured that it would start with an educational movie, circa 1970, then, I don't know, a little discussion in which the boys wouldn't say anything and the teacher would tiptoe around the subject as much as possible.

INSTEAD....I hear the gym teacher, bellowing in his militant voice, something like, "Why do we all LAUGH when we hear the word PENIS? ITS NOT FUNNY. Its not a JOKE."

Nice opener, sport.

I can already tell that I'm going to need a distraction to keep myself from laughing. Its not so much the subject material, but the way Mr. Clearly-Compensating-for-Something is speaking.
I can't tell all of what's being said next door, but every once in a while, an ennunciated word seeps through..... "blur blur blur EJACULATION!"

I pull an enormous novel out of my bookbag. The boys in my room have work to do, but their eyes are fixed on me. I musn't react! I musn't react! I pull the novel in front of my face so they can't see my expression. I bite the sides of my cheeks, and I hear...

"and that's when you get an ERECTION!"

Oh, sweet lord. My smirk turns to a smile and threatens to break, and then the gym teacher screams...

"You get a little WOOD!"

The entire class next door cracks up, I chortle along with them. Oh, sweet release.

Sex ed certainly has changed a lot from when I was in 6th grade.

That's it.

I have 9 days left.

I'm completely and utterly burnt out... yet I can't believe the year is over.

My 6th Graders Rock.

News:

I'm teaching a group of kids high school/college level cellular biology. To be more specific: DNA replication (and they better spell deoxyribonucleic acid correctly!), transcription, translation, cloning, mutations, genetically enhanced foods, Watson/Crick/Franklin etc etc etc.

I was told by someone close to me "There's no way you can make that fun."

HELL YES I CAN!

We made DNA out of pipe cleaners and beads. We have a DNA cheer. We have a chromosome dance. We made amino acid necklaces (by using transcription and translation, of course). We discuss the possibility of being your own sister and mother (cloning, of course).....

Next week, we're going to discuss genetics, do some punnet squares, and do some genetic engineering of our own and "create" some chimeras out of clay.

SO THERE!

One of my girls told me a couple days ago that this year was the FIRST YEAR SHE'S HAD SCIENCE OR HISTORY.

AHHHH!!!!

What an incredible disservice! My kids LOVE science. My kids LOVE history. They're both so damn fascinating-- the content.... they NEED the content! Sigh.


Yesterday I said "How many of you thought history would be or WAS boring previously to this year?"
All my kids raised their hands.
"How many of you like history?" All of my kids raised their hands.

Aww yeah.

How many 6th graders do you know who love talking about Josef Mengele and WWII battles and the Hindenburg?

Berlin Wall? Check. Cold War? Treaty of Versailles? Conscription? Reconaissance? Harry Truman? FDR? Greer Incident? Kristallnacht? Night of Long Knives? Auschwitz's Block 11?

They've got it all, baby.

I love my job.