Just a Beaver

Day 1 of AIMS testing done, and by brain's already fried.
After school, I get a dose of Vitamin B and end up part of this conversation....

Mr. B: Sondra, Did you just call me "just a beaver?"
Student: No I called you "Justin Bieber."
Me: Who is that?
B: (in lovely falsetto) You know. He's the one that sings "Baby, baby, baby, oooooo!"
Me: Yikes Got it. I think I liked beaver better.
(girls lose interest, meander away)
B: You know, this might be as good as our school's motto.
Me: I think you should hang a sign that says "Just a Beaver" on your door. You know, right under another that says "We go hard."

Moments later:
Girl: MR. B! I locked my stuff in your room. (B runs back to his room, with his key)
Me: Oh, come on B, you don't have to use that key. Just gnaw through the door!
B: (Pauses, then very seriously....) Beavers like wood. (We both die with laughter, girls are totally oblivious inside the classroom)
B: You know we're both going to get fired.

It would be totally worth it.

Gorilla Snot

Lately, one of my students has been carrying around this hair styling product called something like "Gorilla Snot." He likes to take it out of his bag and sniff it. And add more to his hair. It hasn't bothered me as it hasn't bothered anyone else in class.

At the end of one period, I looked over at him and saw him, lip jutted out, arm cocked above his head in an awkward 90 degree angle, wrist bent backwards....

Scratching his head like a gorilla.
With utter seriousness.
The label was pointing right at us.

I burst into laughing and pointed it out to the kids I was sitting with.

Student 1: Is Angel evolving backwards?
Me: Gorillas are actually pretty smart. It might actually be moving forwards for him.... You know, you can teach a gorilla sign language?
Student 2: Gorillas ARE smart. Man, a gorilla makes me look like an idiot.

I hope that's not the only epiphany he's had this year....

Stupid Learn to Be Commercial

This has nothing to do with my teaching, but it irritates me anyway.

I don't know if you've seen it, but there's this commercial for this online tutoring company called Learn to Be. They use wacom tablets and the internet to help little kidlets. So, that's cool. What's not cool? The commercial.

In it, this blonde woman gets a phone call from her little friend who asks her in this slow and angelic way:
"How do you find the area of a triangle?"
And the woman smiles this smile...she's too damn euphoric to be answering this question....pulls out her tablet, draws a right triangle, tells the girl that base x height/2 is the formula. Do you get it? The girl smiles back, and they have this long....moment. AND ITS WEIRD. The girl smiles at her in this loving, creepy way, and these smiles....they're the sort of smiles people ooze at each other when they're in love.

The whole thing is weird and eerie and it makes me uncomfortable. Who does that? Especially about math? Especially if you're a grown up and a kid? AND... to further chap my ass....

IT DOESN'T EXPLAIN WHY THATS THE FORMULA, OR HOW TO ACTUALLY SOLVE IT OR SHOW HER ANY NUMBERS....

Just shows her the stupid formula.

Yes, yes, I know. I shouldn't get all worked up over a stupid commercial. But don't pretend to be this awesome, top of the line, prestigious tutoring firm when you can't even explain something like a real teacher would. I mean, shit, give me 30 seconds. Cut out the creepy smiles, show the scene already at the computers, online, and have THIS be the dialogue:

Girl: How do you find the area of a triangle?
Tutor: (pulls up a piece of graph paper on her computer, draws a square with her stylus) Well, how do you find the area of a square? (places in numbers)
Girl: Oh yeah! You multiply base times height, that's how you get ______(answer)
Tutor: (numbers boxes to the answer, say 6, while writing the formula under.) So, (draws a line diagonally across to form two triangles, and quickly shades it in) how much of this square is a triangle?
Girl: The triangle is half of the whole square
Tutor: Okay, so if my whole square was 6 centimeters squared how much is the triangle?
Girl: Half! So three!
Tutor: Three?
Girl: Centimeters squared.
Tutor: That's right. So, that's why the formula is the same as a square or rectangle-- bxh, but then there's one last step.....
Girl: Cutting it in half!

*insert cheesy smiles here*

BAM. Done.

They need to hire me.

How to Teach 8th Graders 101

"You know, if you put a science fact on your ass each day... the kids would learn 180 facts per year...."
--Fellow teacher

A sad, but honest truth. Dirty little perverts.

Wish Granted!

Today, a few of my former students came back to visit. Eduardo aka Giggles, Carlos and Jidalgo.

Me: How's life?
Jidalgo: Good, but I'm failing honors biology.
Me: WHAT?!
Jidalgo: I'm not doing any of my homework. It's all book work, so it gets boring. I pass all the tests though....
Me: Yeah, classes like that kinda suck.
Jidalgo: I learned way more from you.....(I do kind of a sad, victory dance in my head, he looks around at walls) Wait....did your kids learn all about mitosis? And replication and transcription and translation?!
Me: Yeah. Some of you texted me and said it was really hard, so I'm getting them started now.
Eduardo: Luckyyyyyyy!
Me: Yeah, tell THEM that.
Jidalgo: They'll thank you later.

Ahhh! That makes it all worth it. :)

Hooray for spring break!

It is spring break. And I am feeling good. After just a night's sleep (and the knowledge that I don't have to see children for a few days), I felt invigorated. It must have showed because today....

I was honked at and cat-called.
The guy at the shoe store kept commenting on my body and how he could tell I didn't have kid and exercised a lot.
A woman at the cosmetics counter told me they had a new foundation...and then cocked her head and said "But I wouldn't use it if I were you. You have perfect skin. You don't need it."

Hooray for spring break!

Now, if someone would just tell me I'm a good teacher....

.

A kid said he wanted to light me on fire today.

What's One More?

Me: Gabriel, please. Stop singing.

Gabriel: Aww, come on. But listen. I sound so good...

Me: Yes. Gabriel. Voice of an angel. Voice from the heavens.... I still don't want to hear it. Not for next ten minutes.

Hungry Like the Wolf: Did you just say that Mexicans have a separate heaven?

Me: Next ten. Not Mexican. And no, I'm sure if there is one, they'll go too. Gabriel will probably guard the place.

(Pause)

Me: Of course, even if they don't get in.... you know they'll all just hop the fence.

Class: AWWWWW!!!! .....Yeah. That's true.


I love that I can say such terrible things to these kids, and the undocumented ones laugh the loudest....

The Young Republican Strikes Again

"What?! I'm not being racist!" the only white kid in class says, folding his arms and scowling. He continues angrily...

"All I said was that all the Mexicans should go back to Mexico. They ruined their country and now they're coming over here illegally to ruin ours."

Where do I even begin?

I still win.

Before the spirited assembly of insanity starts, I see Hungry Like the Wolf steal Nayely's backpack--slow, like a ninja. I so don't want to deal with her--she'll throw a fit louder than the drum line.
I smack him on the shoulder and scowl at him.
He toes the backpack back in place, gives me a sheepish, yet proud grin. Everyone around him laughs.

"Damn, Miss J," he says, tilting his baseball cap sideways, "you can't hit a child."
"Duran-Duran, you're bigger than me."
"Still. I'm gonna sue you."
"Yeah? Go ahead. What'll happen if we go to court?"
"....I'll get deported."
"So, if I hit you again....you'll get deported. And I get...freedom from you? Tough choice."

Today was the Best Day EVER

It is 8 am. Spirit day. I'm standing in the crowd, listening to the drum line do their thing, when a fellow teacher gets up to the mike. She tries to rev up the crowd. Their benchmark scores came back and they did well. She wants to get them all pumped up. Cuz, you know, we be the baddest mo-fo's out there. 'ana smartest too, foo.

Ah-hem.
Anyhow. That's when the pandemonium starts. She says.... the words. I stare at my 8th graders and they start to snicker. My jaw drops open. Impossible. I listen more closely. She didn't mean to say that... did she?

Oh hell. Yes she did. And now there are signs. Another teacher is handing them out-- hold em high! Say it loud! And then the chanting begins. First the fourth & fifth graders, 6th, then the 7th and 8th. They're snickering. The boys are having a field day. The girls are pretending they don't know.

And I'm dying.
I look around. Where is the film crew? Why did I not bring my camera? This is surreal. This cannot be happening.
I'm looking around for anyone, anyone to talk to, thinking WHERE THE HELL IS GEORGE? I find Rebecca. And I'm losing it. I stutter a few choice words and we hide our faces with large envelopes and dissolve into buckets of laughter before retaining composure.

And then....the 17 year old rapper starts-- he has written a song for our school. And the phrase, this motto, it's sprayed all over it. And the kids are singing along.

"At ____________-dick, we go hard! Go hard or go home!"
"Our boys basketball team, they go hard!"
"Our teachers softball team, they go hard!"
"Our football team, they go hard."
"And on benchmarks, we go hard!"
"All day, we go hard!"

So, what do I get to hear for the rest of the day?

"I'm not hard so can I go home?"
"Hey Edgar, you hard? I know Eddy's hard. Angel, hard yet?"
"Can I hang this 'Go Hard' poster in your room?"
"Can't work, gotta go hard."

Oh. My. God.

Tell me. What other school with "dick" in the name adopts the phrase "go hard"...and has its own rap song? Tell me.

Our School's Motto

The drum line is snap-popping
Dropping beats betwixt cheers
And sneers of 6th graders
when she walks up to the microphone
All alone and utters
The Words.

Absurd and obscene,
I'm standing in a sea of 8th grade boys
Egging on the noise.
Playing with entendres like toys
4th through 8th chanting
She's not recanting,
Instead enchanting, a snake charmer
Decanting Pandora with poise.

A rapper begins rapping
(No shit!)
Breath heavy and panting
(Oh shit!)
All the adult folk are thinking
But brains bursting with
Laughter
But we can't break or after
They'll remind us of the gutter
Where our heads are
So we stutter, and stifle
That smut, and smirking, suffer

We'll die if we don't offer
Up the school's new motto
Like winning numbers of the lotto
Follow with words victorious
more obvious than day-glow
Echo and frolic 'cross the yard
Phallic and no-holds barred--
"At M-----dick! Uh! We go hard."

While taking some notes today....

Lizi: Miss J, teaching is a lot of work. I couldn't do it. Except maybe kindergarten.

Me: I think that's even more work. They're like newts that can't sit still. Plus, I have a friend who taught kinder and a kid once pooped in her potted plant. I'm not dealing with that.

Edgar: I pooped in a shoe once.

Me: What, yesterday?

Edgar: Nope! Today!

Angel: I just realized I don't have pajamas-- just athletic shorts to sleep in.

Lizi: That's a tangent!

Edgar: I sleep naked.

Me: How did we get to this point? And can we get back to atoms?!

Edgar: Only if you say "gorgeous please". Gorgeous is better than pretty.

Sometimes I wonder how we get anything done.

Yes, I know your name, punk.

Me: Aidan. Aidan. Aidan. Tuck in your shirt. The shirt. You look like you are wearing a dress. You look like a girl. You're gonna wear my shoes. Tuck in the shirt. Or get lipstick....

Crappy 7th Grader: HA HA HA AIDAN! Miss J's doggin' you. You gonna take that?

Me: Anthony. Anthony. Anthony. Tuck in your shirt. The shirt. You are wearing a dress. You look like a girl.....

Crappy 7th Grader: (Jaw drops) How.....how did you know my name?

Aidan: (tucking in shirt) Dude. Miss J knows everything.

Crappy 7th Grader: (looks miffed)

Me: (grins)

It happens ever year, and every year, I love it just as much.

A Bench Press with your Butt counts, Right?

J: Miss J, you go to the gym right? How much can you bench?
Me: Oh man. I'm a pro. (flexing non-existent muscles) I bench all the time.
J: I'm starting to think you just sit on the bench.

Me: You have no idea.