There's Only so Much

Today some of my former students came to visit me. I always start off so happy to see them-- especially those I haven't seen in a while, or those I know had the potential of falling into the wrong future.

After today, I especially needed to hear something good. Why? Well, I finally made it to the wall. We have this joke at school that you're not a real teacher or administrator until some kid's written something shitty about you in the bathroom.

Well, yesterday was my day. One of my first hour students took spray paint and grafitti'd up the whole boys' bathroom before school. Not only did it list the top suspected gay kids at school (which goes to show you 1) our kids are insanely homophobic and 2) these are the kids that are teasing HIM about being gay.) but also wrote either "Miss J is a boring bitch," or "Miss J is a horny bitch." Honestly, from the sprawl, I couldn't tell which it said. Additionally, I don't know which offends me more.

So, this morning, while my AP told me this, laughing and thinking it was hilarious, as I quietly fumed, I thought-- I pour my SOUL into you. My SOUL. All my time. And this is what I get? Yeah, yeah. I know. It shouldn't bother me. But it does. It's one thing to write that I have a big ass. Its another thing to make it seem like I don't care. What's worse is that I feel like the rest of the kids, if they knew.... would maybe agree. Again, I should stop beating myself up. But its hard.


So, after school, still feeling exhausted, insulted and overwhelmed (you'd think by year 5 nothing would shock or upset me.....) three of my babies came in. The first is a girl, who in 7th grade, was a real piece of work. Super low academically, and a diva to the extreme. I was a little worried about having her, but she turned out to be totally awesome. Academically....still low, but the girl never gave up and always came in with a good attitude. I respected that so much.

After a bit of small talk, she admitted that she'd come for a reason, but she was afraid to tell me.

"C, you know I might not like it, but I'm going to love you anyway. Its okay."
"Well, Miss J, I was at this party. And there was drinking and smokin, so I got to be drinking and smokin' and then I went home with my boyfriend and well, now.... I'm pregnant."

No sigh. No look of judgment. Just questions:
What's your plan? You have someone to help you through this? How do you feel about it? Are you afraid? Have you seen a doctor? What are you going to do about school? Is the father a part of your life? Is your family supportive?

She has plans, she told me. She lives with the father's family already, and they're supportive. Plus, she's got family in LA, so she's going to go there and get into singing and modeling. Oh, and K? That tiny girl from my homeroom who was saucy and spritely and so, so smart? Yeah. She had a baby girl.

Then B chimed in, trying to cover the new tattoo he got on his wrist. It says his mom's name "Rosa."

"I saw it already, B."
"Are you mad at me?"
"What am I going to do about it? You guys are all going to look like you're 60 when you're 30."
"From partying too much, huh?"
"You got it. Besides, B, I thought you hated your mom...."
"I do but my dad's going to jail for 4 years, and she's still my mom.... I'm going to get his name tattooed on my other wrist."
"Drug stuff?"
"Nah, he got rid of those charges."
"For the drunk driving stuff?"
"No, he got out of that too. It's cuz he won't pay child support."
"Do you see him? Does he ever support you in other ways?"
"Well, yeah, we were going to switch the custody to him, but mom and my sister brought violence charges against me so....."
"Why won't he pay?"
"Well, my mom will just spend the money on other stuff, not us... so he doesn't want to give it to her. Oh also-- I'm going to run away."
"Do you have a safe place to go, B?"

Yeah. He's already staying in the house of two other former students who are regularly into cocaine.


Then the third. The nicest, sweetest, most helpful child you've ever met. Dimples, and shiny dark hair-- A is a teddy bear of a human being. She has two younger siblings, Joel who's in 4th grade, and a little sister who is 5.

"A please tell me your life is better...."

She burst into tears and shook her head.
"He's going to leave, Miss J. He's going to leave!"
"Your dad? Back to Mexico?"

A tearful nod. She is legal, so is the rest of her family. But her dad's work visa had expired and he'd stayed. Now, he's not.

"Are you worried about your younger siblings?"
"Miss J, they're going to grow up without a dad!"
"Does he have a place to go? Do you have family? Will he have a job?"
"Yeah. He'll have a taxi."
"How's your mom? Trying to be strong?"

I just stood there and hugged her. This girl, this gem, with this wonderful, loving, hard-working family. This model family. Falling apart before her eyes.

"When he goes, I don't know when we'll see him again."



I looked at all three of them. I stared at my alumni wall as they filled me in on others who'd dropped out, gone missing, were drugged up or pregnant.

"I wish I could keep you all in 8th grade forever. Keep you and protect you from everything," I said.


The younger grade level teachers don't understand how hard this is. The 6th grade science teacher (who is beyond awesome) was convincing me that I was a super star teacher the other day, when all I could think is this-is-so-hard-this-is-so-hard..... But even he can't possibly understand. When his kids leave, they may turn into horrid 7th graders, but by the time they REALLY leave..... they're out of sight, out of mind. He has a new crew he's bonded with.

With 8th grade its different.
One year, they are in your nest.
The next, eaten by the world.

I am so grateful they still come, still tell me, still know I care. But as soon as I'm home, it shatters me.


My administrator laughs when kids call me a bitch.
And mocks the kids who love me and want to come see me.

They can't win. I can't either.



There's only so much tragedy I can take.

If only our kids knew what we said when they weren't around....

"Well, I'm going to draw a penis on YOUR bulletin board then."
"Fine! Then I'll penis YOURS!"
"Well, then I want it to have hairy balls."
"Harry Wong DOES fit in education."

"A Teacher who Cares"

While in a plane flying back from Chicago, I kept myself busy by reading The Disappearing Spoon by Sam Kean. The book, which is a tome of hilarious, intriguing, fascinating stories about the elements (believe it!), was in fact so good, that I had to take notes on it.

At one point, the woman (early 40s, wealthy judging from her jewelry) next to me asked me what I was doing. I explained I was teaching chemistry to 8th graders, and was trying to find relatable, interesting things to connect chemistry to my kids' lives. I told her I had been horrendously bored by chemistry when I was their age, so I wanted to make it interesting, fun, scandal-filled and relevant. To which she replied:

"How nice! A teacher who cares."

"I do!" I said, and thanked her.

And then, I got kind of pissed.

Wait a second, I thought. A teacher who cares?! Are you kidding me?!?! We ALL START OUT AS TEACHERS WHO CARE! We all start out insanely idealistic, thinking we can save the world, fix every child, "make a difference."

And then we get in to the field. Pedagogy and philosophy crumble in the face of reality, which laughs in your face like a mustache-twirling antagonist, ties you to the railroad tracks and rubs his hands in glee at the oncoming train.


After a couple years of feeling like parent, nurse, therapist and prison guard instead of just TEACHER, making everything you give to your children, working tirelessly on motivating them, calling parents, not getting them because their numbers don't work, grading papers for AGES, head turning to a soccer ball of baldness as you've pulled out your hair because they won't or can't do their homework and their parents can't help them.... Not getting enough support from administration, who if you are decent, don't bother with you because you CAN do it. You're not sinking, so you can clearly take on MORE. For no more pay. Be a leader. Teach every else even though you only have a couple paltry years under your belt.

Detentions? On your time. But you have to do them or admin won't help you. After school parental activities. On your time. Parent phone calls. On your time. Lesson planning and collaborating. On your time.

Being paid nothing, and being told its "okay" by others that don't get it because we "have summers off" and "have great benefits" and "besides, your job is done at 3."

Getting kids in your school that have called other teachers that they should "choke on a dick and die" and are allowed back. Kids dealing pot. Kids drunk in your classroom. Kids high. Kids fighting with bloody knuckles and knives. Kids that miss at least a day a week because school isn't a priority. Kids who miss days at a time to watch younger siblings while their parents work. Kids who write in diaries in your class about being "so fucking wasted." Pregnant girls.


You work through that, and find all of the diamonds in the rough and teach to them, try to get to the ones who are on the verge, and do your best to calm the ones who hate your guts. If you have anything left.

Every teacher starts out wanting to save the planet. And then, it gets beaten out of us as we burn, burn, burn the candle on both ends.

So don't tell me "oh, a teacher who cares." We all were, and many of us still are.

Cue the Queen

And no, I am not talking about feather boas and platform shoes.

I am referring to a tradition our school has been keen on following for the last couple of years....

Problem 1:
Not enough seasoned teachers to go around

Problem 2:
Not enough money to get skilled teachers

Problem 3:
People leave last minute

Solution:
Hire people who can't cut it because you have no choice.


End result:
Dernt, dernt, dernt...another one bites the dust....



So far we have lost or are losing:
The most incredible, amazing helpful disciplinarian the school has seen, Ms. M
Our snarky and fantastic groundskeeper (district relocated him to another school)
A 4th grade teacher who's health problems make it impossible for her to continue
Two teachers in the 7/8 building-- first year here, probably didn't know what they were in for.

I have this fear that by the end of this year, the school is going to be an apocalyptic wasteland. Worse yet, while we were on the upswing, I predict the cost will be high-- I think many of the people with a few years are going to leave. Mass exodus, leaving the school back again where it was a couple years ago-- with more 1st years than anything else.

It's not going to be pretty.

Symbiosis

We were watching this.

In the video, you see an oxpicker eating the ticks off a giraffe at warp speed.

Me: Okay, what type of symbiosis is being shown here? I see two relationships.
Class: Parasitism! Mutualism! Communism!
Me: COMMUNISM?
Daniel:YEAH!
Ivone: That's when a dictator takes over, moron.
Me: Not necessarily, it's just when..... Okay, we're getting off task. Daniel, what is the correct word you meant to say?
Daniel: Commensalism.
Me: Okay, good, and did we see that? Which did we see?
Kevin: Miss J, I want to see that bird eating corn. Nar-nar-nar-nar-nar!
Me: (dies) (regains composure) Can anyone please tell me what they saw?
Madeline: We saw parasitism because the tick was feeding off the giraffe and hurting it, and mutualism because the bird was eating the ticks off the giraffe so both were helped.
Me: Madeline, you just saved my sanity. Thank you.

Random Bits

1.
The news came to our assembly today. Our school raised almost $2,000 dollars total for Francisco Felix's family. Incredible. I tried explaining to the kids how HUGE this had become, but they just didn't get the scope. Guys. National news. I mean... NATIONAL. This isn't just impacting THIS community.... They don't get how big this is. I have to learn how to teach them how a drop can impact a whole pond, and how anyone can be that drop.

2.
I had a paper sign stapled outside my door with my name on it. The kids knew from the sign to line up at that spot before entering. At first, someone wrote "is awesome" after my name. Then, someone wrote "big ass." Thanks guys. Thanks.

3.
Luis: Miss J. If I proposed to you, what would you say?
Me: Proposed what? That you do your homework? Yes. Please do your homework.
Luis: No, you know, like PROPOSED. Like got down on one knee...
Me: Oh! I would laugh at you. And then tell you no.
Luis: What?! But what if I had a nice ring...
Me: Dude. You're like my SON. That's gross.
Luis: But Miss J, I'm awesome. And I make you laugh.
Me: True. But still gross.
Daniel: She doesn't want you fool. She wants to super size that. (points to himself)
Me: Okay, now we're really done. I'm going to go barf up my lunch now.

Angels and Devils

First, the devils.
This morning, while getting into line, one of my kids thought it would be a good idea to throw a handful of this chili-powder candy into the eyes of another kid.Good idea? Yes. If you want to get sent to the office and get in serious trouble. "I was aiming for his mouth," the kid said. Yeah. Right.

Juan: Miss J, I know you said mistletoe's a parasite and all that, but we should get them for the door, so when you come in--
Me: Juan, I am not making out with you. (class dies)
Osuna: BUT YOU JUST TOLD US YOU WERE A PARASITE! You JUST....
Me: Well, then I'd be a vampire, and in that case... you don't want me anywhere near you.
Osuna: Well...
Me: You're all gross. Stop.



The angels.
My homeroom decided to make me cards for my birthday in art class. One, impressively, shows a chromosome unwrapping into chromatin, and then DNA. In the chromatin, it says "Happy birthday." Creative! Then, on the inside it says:

"Happy Birthday Miss J. We know we are a little late and we're sorry. This year has been the best and we know you have problems in life but whenever you feel sad just think about the fun times you had with us, and how happy you made us. Thank you so much and have a happy holiday.

World peace and no nuclear power plants!!"

-- M.C.

A second one just said "Happy Birthday, Miss J". Stapled on the top corner was a packet of graham crackers. Below, was a picture of a radioactive cow dripping milk into an Erlenmeyer flask. Under it said "here's some milk to go with your cookies."

Hilarious.






And finally--
There is a kid at my school whose dad has a failing liver. His family fears that government cutbacks could set in at the time his dad may NEED a liver. This terrifies him. So, after watching the news, he learned about a man who couldn't get insurance because funding that had already been cut.

So, as a 7th grader... he has been standing on the street corners with a sign for a MAN HE DOESN'T EVEN KNOW, to try and raise money to get the guy a liver. A dime at a time.

Then, he started a drive at the school. Now, keep in mind, this is Title 1. This is not a rich neighborhood by any means. It isn't even middle class for the most part.

One of my kids sent handfuls of change all over my table ("Osuna! Are you a leprechaun? Are you donating the treasure at the end of the rainbow?" "Yeah, Miss J, only it wasn't gold, it was COPPER!). Another kid, instead of going to HIGH SCHOOL that day (don't even get me started there), came back to my class, spent the day with me...and donated five dollars to the cause.

In one day, the kids as a whole raised $1600.


And Carlos is still on the corner with his bucket collecting change every day.

AND THIS HAS MADE NATIONAL NEWS.
Holy crap.




Sometimes, I want to shank a kid (namely in my last block) but sometimes-- I just love 'em.

Octopus Games

While studying crypsis (forms of adaptations that allow an organism to hide, like mimicry, camouflage, being transparent or nocturnal, or having a subterranean lifestyle), we watched a video that showed the incredible mimic octopus at work.

Alex: Man. You do NOT want to play hide and seek with an octopus.

I wonder if I could get them to brainstorm other similar thoughts.

IE...
You wouldn't want to play tag with a cheetah.
You would want to build a fort with a beaver.
You wouldn't want to attend an eating contest with an anaconda.

I love my 7/8 Class

Me: ....and that's that...
Stanley: Miss J, did you just say I was fat?
Me: *blink* Well, you do beep when you walk backwards.
Stanley: .....
Me: OH COME ON. That's a TOTAL STANLEY JOKE! You should be proud of me.
Stanley: Okay, okay. (sigh) It was kind of funny.
Me: You totally just killed all of my fun.


Me: Don't call me mama.
Javier: Yeah, call her BIG MAMA!
Javier: I'm going to die now, aren't I?



We had just been studying the peppered moth/natural selection story when....

Me: (putting sticky-note raffle tickets in Ivone's hair & calling her the prettiest x-mas tree ever)
Ivone: Mom!
Me: Yes?
Ivone: Brother's being stupid!
Me: What'd be do?
Ivone: He ruined my Christmas tree.
(Kevin aka Perfection grins)
Me: Perfection, you are getting coal for Christmas.
Ivone: And that's bad. Because you're white. The predators are going to eat you.
Me: Ivone, I love you.
Ivone: Yeah, I'm your favorite daughter.


Robo: (swearing)
Me: Out! Go write me an apology letter.
Robo: Awwww, shit.
Me: ROBO!!!!
Robo: What?
Me: YOU JUST DID IT AGAIN!
Robo: What?
Me: You can't shit in here!
Robo:.....
Me: That's not what I meant.
Robo: You owe me an apology letter.

Holy Crap. They knew something.

I was doing a lab based off of this website. Using the website, kids were acting like birds, eating peppered moths in the original and polluted England forest. Having fun. Not being jerk wads.

Then, after collecting the data for various trials, I asked them to find the measures of central tendency. I had even printed a page examples on how to find each one. To my utter surprise and bewilderment.... MOST OF THEM KNEW EXACTLY HOW TO DO IT!

Oh my god.

It was amazing.

There were only 3-4 kids who had absolutely no clue what they were doing!! AMAZING!

Despite the fact that I am beside myself with happiness, what does it say about Arizona education when I am tickled pink that my 8th graders can do 6th grade math?

And what did it say that even after written and modeled EXPLICIT directions....they still could not produce bar graphs?

Arizona, we have some serious work to do. But thank you for teaching my kids mean, median, mode, range and outlier.

I matter...

Well, this last week has been utter hell. A kid told me my decisions were "bullshit." One of my classes has a 39% average. Kids in my first class pants each other and are horrible bullies. I feel like I am useless. Yet, the universe keeps telling me I'm doing good things, but all I can fixate on is the fact that two of my four classes act like total asses.

But, I did get this letter today. I need to keep reading it until I believe it....


Dear Ms. J,
I am so sorry for all the bad things that the class has done and would really like to apologize for our misbehavior, disrespect and lack of knowledge that we treated you with this past couple of weeks. I know this kind of crap can bring you down but always remember that every day is a new one with hidden surprises. On the other hand I know that a small percentage of the class has actually done their work and I apologize for our inconvenience. Thank you so much for not giving up on us, you show traits of a true fighter. You've helped us when we have problems and when we do have a situation we know that you can be the one we turn to to get the problem fixed and we can trust you 100% of the time. You supported us all the time. Miss J, you ROCK for sure. Never let any of us bring you down. Just discipline us, send us out of the room, give us detention. I don't know, you choose. I hope one day the whole class has notice what they've done and how they hurt you because a lot of the class is stingy and only think about themselves. THANK YOU so much for being the best teacher anyone could have.

Sincerely,
MC

P.s. You are the smartest science teacher in history. Remember... YOU ROCK!!




I almost burst into tears when I read this. I have to keep telling myself I matter, I matter, I matter, I matter....

The Yearly "Homo" Talk

Today, we were looking at homozygous vs. heterozygous allelic combinations. To understand the words, I always break them down into pre/suffixes. Of course, with the word 'homozygous' you just know you're going to get a headache. I tackle it head on because, well, if you don't call them out on their immaturity, then its just as bad as ignoring it.


Me: ....so whether its in terms of sexuality or alleles, homo just means "the same."
Student 1: So, Miss J, what you're saying is that when we call someone 'homo' we're just calling them the same?
Me: Yup. Not an insult. Just makes you look like an idiot.
Student: So can we just call them homosexuals instead?
Me: That's still not an insult. Also makes you look like an idiot.
Student 1: Damn

What I wanted to say but didn't: Also, humans species? Homo sapiens. So, I hate to tell you, but you're all homos.


Well, probably didn't create any gay rights activists, but at least they know if I hear them call anyone a homo they're going to catch serious hell....

Let the Shanking Begin

So much for having a relaxing day.

A bolt of lightning struck the transformer, leaving our school in darkness for a couple hours today. After school there was an emergency meeting. I could not make it as I was in the middle of enjoying peace and quiet... but I did have to go all the way back to school to call all of the parents of my kids to tell them

hey

we'll probably have electricity tomorrow
but even if we dont were having school
but it might get hot
and kids might have to be moved to other classrooms
so if you dont feel like sending your kid to school,
you get to decide whats in tehir best e\\interest
but werestillgonna(have)SCgHaskdjfhOOjfhgfLkdgjnmv



ARGHHH!!!!


I got in my classroom to make these stupid calls, and find the kids had trashed it.


I am going to shank someone.

Smell Beyond the Cherry

Well, I wanted to throw in the towel today.
It is that time of year... the honeymoon period is over, the kids are starting to get lazy and apathetic. They are excessively rude to each other, and they're starting to show up drunk to school just to puke all over my room.


WHAT?

Yes.

Let's start at the beginning.

Last Friday, my darling little Napoleon barfed up bright red cherry and SOMETHING all over my table, his test, and the floor. Now, I could easily make the joke that my test makes him want to hurl chunks, but NO....he got a new test and completed the whole thing no problem.

Why do I think he was drunk? Because he was acting weird and out of it beforehand, was grinning after he did it, seemed MORE ALERT and awake after AND.... and here's the most telling part, he CLEANED IT ALL UP. He refused to a) let maintenance do it (they still came later and disinfected everything) AND b) wouldn't let me get anywhere near his neon spew. I think he knew I would be able to smell beyond the cherry.

This has become a new trend at our school. Not much longer than a week ago, one of the pretty popular 8th grade girls was upset upon being caught drunk at school because well, "I only had ONE Bud Light before school!!!"

Are you kidding me?

Apparently their new things is to get their parents to buy them those alcoholic energy drinks. They come in big, Monster-like cans and since their parents don't speak or read English.... they don't know when their kids are drinking right in front of them.

ARGH!!!!

On top of this, last week I found out that a few of my favorite, favorite, favorite kids have basically dropped out of high school because they're addicted to drugs. Probably meth. They won't tell me, but I know its easy to get and meth causes one to lose weight quickly, which is exactly what happened to one of them.

So. Monday rolls around. I am already frustrated, emotional, tired, worn out, and cranky.... (lets not even get into what grad school is putting me through)
....
I go back to my classroom and realize that my SMARTBOARD still IS NOT WORKING. I try to put in another tech request (and this is ironic-- the home page talks about how its "world class IT") and as I am hitting "ENTER" it says HAHAHAH YOU HAVE NO INTERNET.

I try again.
It laughs at me.
It is the damn clown at mini golf.

So, annoyed, I look through my text books and discover there's NOTHING IN THEM THATS USEFUL (big surprise) and that I have NO EQUIPMENT WITH WHICH TO DO A LAB (another big surprise).....So, I dig through my curriculum binders and find something I'd made for last year's kids and think AHA! THIS WILL WORK!

But of course, my plans are thwarted.

All 3 of the copy machines will not work.

I spend 40 minutes of my life screwing with them, down on my hands and knees, covered in toner, grunting like some territorial baboon..... The paper will go through, and only peals of hideous laughter would come out. Ha, ha, Miss J! NO COPIES FOR YOU.


I finally figure something out, moments before I have to pick up my kids, when my homeroom does NOT make my day better. I had given the kids FOREVER to do some work in class (a mitosis project) and in the majority of my classes they DID NOT DO THE WORK THAT WAS DUE TODAY. THREE kids did the work. THREE!! ARGHHHHH!!

AND THEN ONE OF MY BOYS PANTS'D ANOTHER IN ART CLASS AND THE BOY WENT HOME CRYING.


ARGJHHHHHHFKSHDFKLSDJFKSDHFKDSJH!!

In all of my classes for the rest of the day, its the same. The kids are not doing their work. I am furious. I do not yell, I do not scream, but inside my head I am thinking:

I AM NOT DOING AWESOMELY COOL DNA EXTRACTION LABS WITH JERKY LAZY PEOPLE! I AM NOT WRITING YOU STORIES AND SONG PARODIES AND COMING UP WITH NEW DANCES FOR YOU!!! I AM NOT SPENDING HOURS AND HOURS FINDING COOL VIDEO CLIPS AND ANIMATIONS!

You so do not deserve the awesomeness that is me.

So, tomorrow, so that I do not SHANK ANY OF MY CHILDREN...

I am taking the day off.

Vanilla Shake....

Well, it's getting earlier each year.

Today, one of my 8th grade boys told me I should enter a booty shaking contest.

Sweet lord. How I miss the days where they waited until at least DECEMBER to sexually harass me.....