Teacher Depreciation Day! May 9, 2012

This phenomenon is real.  I remember other Teacher Appreciation Days which were marked by breakfasts, scented candles, coffee mugs and the like.  Today, there was a three page memo of George Schultz’ musings on teachers, accompanied by a microscopic chocolate treat that one required a miner’s lamp to locate in the mailbox.  I, for one, was of course crossing my fingers in the hopes of receiving SOME kind of lengthy memo, so that was a relief. . .

I don’t mean to be ungrateful.  I guess that it should be no surprise that our Teacher Appreciation is also linked like an iron vise to our state test scores.  If our students were passing, we would perhaps once again return to the glory days of finding a full-size candy bar in our mailboxes.  At one point today, I became painfully aware of the contrast between today’s reminders that I am, in fact, depreciating at an alarming rate, and what I might experience in a different setting.  Why I allow such thoughts to creep in, I cannot say. It is masochism fo sho.  It’s the Stay- Puft Marshmallow Man for Ray in Ghostbusters–it just popped in there. Choose the destructor!  I pictured, just for a moment, a squeaky-clean, polite little suburban waif, handing me a gift basket of assorted, super clever and useful items (including a gift card for anything–oh, sweet, sweet gift cards) in a themed tote that cost more than my shoes.

“Shut up or I’ll punch you in the face!” “Your mama.” “Say it to my face.” “Do it!”

And in that moment,  I snap it back, defuse the would-be fistfight, and start to make my mental shopping list for everything I need to buy for the classroom tonight: tissues, hand sanitizer,  pencils, goodies for my prize box.

photo:  http://imagecache2.allposters.com/images/PF_New%5C462008%5C/4602887.jpg

 

Inspirational Masking Tape Affirmation May 7, 2012

This is a piece of masking tape I found on a desk today.  I know, it’s illegible in the photo, but I had to prove that I am not making this stuff up.  He wrote this while he was supposed to be completing some trivial academic task.

My student’s message to himself:  “Eduicon + collage equals good job.” I read this, “Ed-oo-ick-on.”  With a second possible pronunciation: Ed-Jew-ick-on.” I think that it is a hip convention for future collage artists looking for good jobs.  Don’t get me wrong–I am always harping about the importance of getting an eduicon.  Add the ability to throw together a good collage on top of it? The sky’s the limit!! This kid may be the next Tony Robbins.  I may just have all my students write inspiring notes to themselves about exactly what it is they should be focusing on.  Except for the fact that it could decline quickly into a profanity spelling bee, which they have mastered nicely.

I know! Masking tape collages!  Excuse me while I change my lesson plan.

Thirsty Boys of Summer–My Bad May 3, 2012

Is it me, or are our youth athletes becoming needier? I am currently in the midst of my second Little League child—but my first one is thirteen years older, so it has been that long since I had to play the parent spectator role for Little League baseball.  Some things never change, like the parents who seem convinced that their seven-year-old’s team MUST WIN in order for life in the Western World to go forward.  Never really my philosophy.

Maybe it has to do with the fact that this league is situated in a somewhat higher brow neighborhood than our old one.  It is certainly populated by far more moms who work at home.  You know what I mean.  Some actually have time to do things like shop, exercise, keep up with daily Pinterest-inspired projects.  Yeah, I try to squeeze these in too; I just have the working mom syndrome of doing all of those at a much less adequate level.  Take, for example, my snack provider faux pas.  Having volunteered to provide a snack for the team after the game on opening day, which lasts about 17 hours and is about as colorful as a Kardashian wedding,  I showed up with *gasp* granola bars.  My fave type A mom tactfully queried, “You mean you didn’t bring a drink?? Yeah, generally the expectation is blah blah blah and a drink. I’m sure you’ll get another chance, so just FYI.”  Hmmm.  Forgive me. In all my years of bringing snacks to various sporting events, I have never received the message that snack means snack and drink.  Hell, when my older son played, it just wasn’t a thing, this need for snacks.  Let alone a special little drink. Once in a great while, the coach bought pizza for the whole team.  It was special, not expected. Doesn’t everyone just bring water? I guess that I need to bring vitamin-balance-zen-life-power water to these poor dehydrated waifs.  (To the kids’ credit, not one of them expressed an expectation of anything more—I can’t imagine how embarrassed I would have been if one of my kids ever said, “WHAT? No drink?”)

Scary thing is, this isn’t even suburbia! They’re probably setting up monogrammed cheese trays out there with an assortment of organic sparkling grape juices to keep those urchins alive.

Seriously, we need to reexamine this practice—God knows we don’t want to breed a generation of weak, thirsty Americans who lack the ability to hydrate themselves independently.  Man up, little folks. Suck on a rock! It’s good for you! Play ball!

 

photo:: http://www.rocklandsports.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/04/baseball.jpg