Every now and then, we have those moments. I have had them as a parent, and I have had them as a teacher. That moment where you know “I have just rocked this.” These moments come few and far between, so you want to relish and remember them. I remember the first time Tater told me “bess oo!” when I sneezed. That was a moment. Your first “I wuv oo” from your child is another.
Category: Education & Learning, Humor, Life's Lessons, Parenting, Self-Actualization
I never really thought of myself as “teacher” material. I never imagined I had the level of patience it required. I was very nervous when I started subbing last year. Fortunately I seemed to be decent at it, even if I have been told repeatedly by my students that I am pretty weird for a teacher. Yeah, I get that a lot.
This school year and I am rotating between being my class’s teacher, and being their class aide. The line has been pretty blurry in practice, since I have a great teacher and aide to work with already. They are cool with the random but relevant bits of information I can add to a lesson, and that is great. Sadly, my correlation of the humanization example used in “The Silence of the Lambs” to the humanization of the tributes in “The Hunger Games” was only appreciated by two people in a class of eight, counting staff.
Sometimes I feel old, which is ridiculous. However, “The Silence of the Lambs” did come out when I was in high school, which was before my students were born. The teacher was in high school when September 11 happened. She has never seen the movie and had no idea what I was talking about.
On a recent field trip to learn how to make pizza, a student noticed me enjoying the owner’s musical preferences. “Teacher, I didn’t know you liked Nirvana!”
“Darling, I was your age when this was new.”
I always like when I am given a little freedom to reach outside the box and throw in some information that I think is cool, or fun, or something my students will appreciate. They aren’t your average students. They won’t “graduate” with a diploma in this class. At best, they can get their GED, but they probably won’t. We focus on social and life skills, with academics thrown in mostly on a jobs skills basis.
We go for walks at lunch time. Some students need that fresh air and activity more than others. My frequent walkers know that we pick up trash on our walks. Pretty leaves during the season, but now trash more than anything. We see students from the regular high school, usually shouting profanity or smoking. Most of the trash we pick up is from them. I tell my students “I am proud to walk with you, because you aren’t acting like a fool.” Yes, I know the only reason they are not is because I am there. But they pick up trash without being asked to, and that pleases me.
Now that some students have earned the privilege, I will take them to the gas station when they have spending money. This is a good opportunity to do math in our heads. Can we get a hot cocoa AND a fountain drink? Did I get the right change? I was so proud when they said “thank you” without being prompted. One day the cappuccino maker spit out water.
“What do I do?”
“Go tell the clerk, nicely, that it isn’t working, and that you are getting a fresh cup in a different flavor.” He did, and she helped him. I tell my students “I live here. I shop here. They know me, so act right!” And they do.
Every now and then I get a chance to really have some fun. There was much complaining about our spelling work today, and I laid out just how many of their points (they translate into dollars to be spent at the school store) could be lost for that, they grumbled how they hated this school and never were coming back. I hear that a lot. When they completed the dreaded assignment, we watched the video clip from the “Addams Family” movie about Thanksgiving. It is far from school appropriate, and they loved it. “Are you sure we can watch this in school?” one asked. I won’t tell if you won’t.
After they moaned about having to write 10-12 whole sentences about how they would help the needy (donate goods or time?), we played Bingo. They all won a prize, and maybe learned a little something about small pox and buffalo slaughter. The darker side of history feels a little forbidden, does it not?
We polished off the leftovers from yesterday’s feast: turkey sandwiches, mashed potatoes and gravy, pumpkin pie, and pickle slices. I could tell which of my students had actually peeled a potato before (only one of them). They mixed the pie crust dough and rolled it out. They made the pie filling. They made the gravy, though were dubious about my assistance with the roux. “We add the flour and water last at my house.”
As we commented (again) how the mashed potatoes weren’t lumpy, the gravy was delicious, and the pie was amazing, I saw (again) something I had to be thankful for. It was something easier for me to see at the beginning of the school year, and harder for me to see months into it.
Yesterday, before we enjoyed our dinner, we each had to say something we were thankful for. I had something nicer to say before I had to put myself between two boys who were ready to fight, twice. I just said “I am thankful I have a good job in this poor economy.” It was also on my mind that Walmart employees were going on strike, and according to their signs they are making more than I do an hour. It is hard to say which job is more dangerous. I put myself between three potential fistfights yesterday, but that is less scary than Black Friday.
If I was able to say what I was thankful for, really, as I broke bread with my students over our lab table, which is my desk, is that “I am thankful that I am able to work with you this year. I once said my goal was to help kids. I never felt like I was able to do it before in my work. If you are happy to come to school, or lThis school year and I am rotating between being my class’s teacher, and being their class aide. The line has been pretty blurry in practice, since I have a great teacher and aide to work with already. They are cool with the random but relevant bits of information I can add to a lesson, and that is great. Sadly, my correlation of the humanization example used in “The Silence of the Lambs” to the humanization of the tributes in “The Hunger Games” was only appreciated by two people in a class of eight, counting staff.
Sometimes I feel old, which is ridiculous. However, “The Silence of the Lambs” did come out when I was in high school, which was before my students were born. The teacher was in high school when September 11 happened. She has never seen the movie and had no idea what I was talking about.
On a recent field trip to learn how to make pizza, a student noticed me enjoying the owner’s musical preferences. “Teacher, I didn’t know you liked Nirvana!”
“Darling, I was your age when this was new.”
I always like when I am given a little freedom to reach outside the box and throw in some information that I think is cool, or fun, or something my students will appreciate. They aren’t your average students. They won’t “graduate” with a diploma in this class. At best, they can get their GED, but they probably won’t. We focus on social and life skills, with academics thrown in mostly on a jobs skills basis.
We go for walks at lunch time. Some students need that fresh air and activity more than others. My frequent walkers know that we pick up trash on our walks. Pretty leaves during the season, but now trash more than anything. We see students from the regular high school, usually shouting profanity or smoking. Most of the trash we pick up is from them. I tell my students “I am proud to walk with you, because you aren’t acting like a fool.” Yes, I know the only reason they are not is because I am there. But they pick up trash without being asked to, and that pleases me.
Now that some students have earned the privilege, I will take them to the gas station when they have spending money. This is a good opportunity to do math in our heads. Can we get a hot cocoa AND a fountain drink? Did I get the right change? I was so proud when they said “thank you” without being prompted. One day the cappuccino maker spit out water.
“What do I do?”
“Go tell the clerk, nicely, that it isn’t working, and that you are getting a fresh cup in a different flavor.” He did, and she helped him. I tell my students “I live here. I shop here. They know me, so act right!” And they do.
Every now and then I get a chance to really have some fun. There was much complaining about our spelling work today, and I laid out just how many of their points (they translate into dollars to be spent at the school store) could be lost for that, they grumbled how they hated this school and never were coming back. I hear that a lot. When they completed the dreaded assignment, we watched the video clip from the “Addams Family” movie about Thanksgiving. It is far from school appropriate, and they loved it. “Are you sure we can watch this in school?” one asked. I won’t tell if you won’t.
After they moaned about having to write 10-12 whole sentences about how they would help the needy (donate goods or time?), we played Bingo. They all won a prize, and maybe learned a little something about small pox and buffalo slaughter. The darker side of history feels a little forbidden, does it not?
We polished off the leftovers from yesterday’s feast: turkey sandwiches, mashed potatoes and gravy, pumpkin pie, and pickle slices. I could tell which of my students had actually peeled a potato before (only one of them). They mixed the pie crust dough and rolled it out. They made the pie filling. They made the gravy, though were dubious about my assistance with the roux. “We add the flour and water last at my house.”
As we commented (again) how the mashed potatoes weren’t lumpy, the gravy was delicious, and the pie was amazing, I saw (again) something I had to be thankful for. It was something easier for me to see at the beginning of the school year, and harder for me to see months into it.
Yesterday, before we enjoyed our dinner, we each had to say something we were thankful for. I had something nicer to say before I had to put myself between two boys who were ready to fight, twice. I just said “I am thankful I have a good job in this poor economy.” It was also on my mind that Walmart employees were going on strike, and according to their signs they are making more than I do an hour. It is hard to say which job is more dangerous. I put myself between three potential fistfights yesterday, but that is less scary than Black Friday.
This school year and I am rotating between being my class’s teacher, and being their class aide. The line has been pretty blurry in practice, since I have a great teacher and aide to work with already. They are cool with the random but relevant bits of information I can add to a lesson, and that is great. Sadly, my correlation of the humanization example used in “The Silence of the Lambs” to the humanization of the tributes in “The Hunger Games” was only appreciated by two people in a class of eight, counting staff.
Sometimes I feel old, which is ridiculous. However, “The Silence of the Lambs” did come out when I was in high school, which was before my students were born. The teacher was in high school when September 11 happened. She has never seen the movie and had no idea what I was talking about.
On a recent field trip to learn how to make pizza, a student noticed me enjoying the owner’s musical preferences. “Teacher, I didn’t know you liked Nirvana!”
“Darling, I was your age when this was new.”
I always like when I am given a little freedom to reach outside the box and throw in some information that I think is cool, or fun, or something my students will appreciate. They aren’t your average students. They won’t “graduate” with a diploma in this class. At best, they can get their GED, but they probably won’t. We focus on social and life skills, with academics thrown in mostly on a jobs skills basis.
We go for walks at lunch time. Some students need that fresh air and activity more than others. My frequent walkers know that we pick up trash on our walks. Pretty leaves during the season, but now trash more than anything. We see students from the regular high school, usually shouting profanity or smoking. Most of the trash we pick up is from them. I tell my students “I am proud to walk with you, because you aren’t acting like a fool.” Yes, I know the only reason they are not is because I am there. But they pick up trash without being asked to, and that pleases me.
Now that some students have earned the privilege, I will take them to the gas station when they have spending money. This is a good opportunity to do math in our heads. Can we get a hot cocoa AND a fountain drink? Did I get the right change? I was so proud when they said “thank you” without being prompted. One day the cappuccino maker spit out water.
“What do I do?”
“Go tell the clerk, nicely, that it isn’t working, and that you are getting a fresh cup in a different flavor.” He did, and she helped him. I tell my students “I live here. I shop here. They know me, so act right!” And they do.
Every now and then I get a chance to really have some fun. There was much complaining about our spelling work today, and I laid out just how many of their points (they translate into dollars to be spent at the school store) could be lost for that, they grumbled how they hated this school and never were coming back. I hear that a lot. When they completed the dreaded assignment, we watched the video clip from the “Addams Family” movie about Thanksgiving. It is far from school appropriate, and they loved it. “Are you sure we can watch this in school?” one asked. I won’t tell if you won’t.
After they moaned about having to write 10-12 whole sentences about how they would help the needy (donate goods or time?), we played Bingo. They all won a prize, and maybe learned a little something about small pox and buffalo slaughter. The darker side of history feels a little forbidden, does it not?
We polished off the leftovers from yesterday’s feast: turkey sandwiches, mashed potatoes and gravy, pumpkin pie, and pickle slices. I could tell which of my students had actually peeled a potato before (only one of them). They mixed the pie crust dough and rolled it out. They made the pie filling. They made the gravy, though were dubious about my assistance with the roux. “We add the flour and water last at my house.”
As we commented (again) how the mashed potatoes weren’t lumpy, the gravy was delicious, and the pie was amazing, I saw (again) something I had to be thankful for. It was something easier for me to see at the beginning of the school year, and harder for me to see months into it.
Yesterday, before we enjoyed our dinner, we each had to say something we were thankful for. I had something nicer to say before I had to put myself between two boys who were ready to fight, twice. I just said “I am thankful I have a good job in this poor economy.” It was also on my mind that Walmart employees were going on strike, and according to their signs they are making more than I do an hour. It is hard to say which job is more dangerous. I put myself between three potential fistfights yesterday, but that is less scary than Black Friday.
If I was able to say what I was thankful for, really, as I broke bread with my students over our lab table, which is my desk, is that “I am thankful that I am able to work with you this year. I once said my goal was to help kids. I never felt like I was able to do it before in my work. If you are happy to come to school, or learn a big word, or say a big word; I have done my job. You can call me a nerd or weird, but if seeing your nerdy, weird teacher every day makes you more comfortable with being not like everyone else, it is worth it. It doesn’t bother me, and I hope one day it won’t bother you.”
School cafeteria food is easy to make fun of. I wrote a story about it when I was in the sixth grade. I recall stating that it wasn’t the lunch ladies’ fault, since you obviously cannot make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear. Needless to say, that little gem remained unpublished. Now, a few decades later, I feel compelled to tackle the subject again. A song about “mystery meat”, no doubt from a Nickelodeon show, is echoing in my head.
Read more on Whole Grain Bandage, or Why School Lunches Still Suck…
Category: Cooking & Baking, Health, Kids (5 & Older), Middle School, Teens
I spend a large portion of my work day sitting outside restrooms. For the class I am subbing in, getting to walk to the restroom unescorted is a privilege that you must earn. We simply have not been back to school long enough for anyone to have earned it yet. We also have many “breaks” built into our schedule. It divides up the day well for those students who have trouble focusing for long periods of time.
We knock on the restroom doors first, as they have to go in alone. We also check for any mischief. This protects our students from any wrongful accusations, but also provides irrefutable proof if there are hijinks in there. Sadly, I grew complacent that it is a low traffic area. After a quick knock, I walked in on the principal talking on his cell phone. We were both relieved he was not multi-tasking at the time.
One student seems to have, shall we say, bowel issues. There is regular, and then there is “what the hell are you eating?” because that level of frequency really should be discussed with a doctor. This leaves me sitting outside with the others, who enjoy telling me improbable stories.
Recently though, as we waited for our pooper to be done (yet again), one boy comments “I don’t know how he does that. If I am going to go, it has to be on my own toilet!”
I agree that it is preferable, but it doesn’t bother everyone. He nods wisely and says “it does get more difficult the closer you get to home.” Now I am seriously trying not to bust out laughing. I have had this conversation before with my closest friend. Who else can you talk about those tough commutes home because you know whatever is making that noise in your gut? It should not happen in public. I can think of two specific incidents where that happened, and both involved the Taco Bell by my university. I never ate there again, in case you were wondering. Anything that makes you think of that scene in “Alien” when you are driving? It really is best to avoid it.
I would think of this later and chuckle to myself. Not just because the kid prefers to go at home, but because he was willing to admit that. He might be a smart ass, but sometimes he calls them like he sees them. I can respect that.
It was just this morning, in the midst of a very rainy camping trip, that I realized that JD had not been a productive citizen. He had failed to drop a deuce despite our time in the camper and the presence of his froggy potty. I rather thought we were going to have a problem when he announced “I fahted” as we were packing. It was quite humid in our pop up camper, that stench would have lingered for a while.
But no, things didn’t loosen up until we were safely ensconced in our home. It took three separate efforts over an hour, each more impressive than the last. The kind where you wish you would have weighed the kid when you got home, and then after. Just for the sake of an explanation, I suppose. Maybe he missed Friday too….
It isn’t the same for everyone. I know I listened to the bigger ones debate walking with an umbrella versus riding their bike in the rain because they had to go (but how badly? Enough to get wet?).
Everybody poops, we know that. Heck, there is a book about it! Where we choose to, or able to do it, well, that is another story. One Freud would probably have a lot to say about. Maybe Dorothy did say it best. “There is no place like home!”
Now I must go chase a wee boy down with a wet wipe… again!
Category: Humor, KIds (2, 3 & 4), Life's Lessons, Potty Training, Teens
