peachyteachy

For realsies

No Such Thing as a Free Lunch February 16, 2017

Filed under: humor,teaching,Uncategorized — peachyteachy @ 8:08 pm
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Part One: Breakfast

So they say, those naysayers who have never witnessed the veritable smorgasbord that is crafted for our youth at Peachytime Elementary on a daily–nay, semi-hourly–basis. Oh, look.  I have become a naysayer.

I am here to report that no one is going hungry during our school days; not the mice, not the kids, except for those who require ranch dressing for most every menu item here at Chez Peachytime Cafe.

Let me break it down for you:

Ms. Peachy circa 8:23 a.m.:

GOOD MORNING, SUNSHINE! Get your breakfast, plasticware, and a pencil and start chomping! You have 7 minutes to eat your

Cinnamon Toast Crunch

Wonder Waffle in a Bag

Cream Cheese trapped in Bagel Dough

Muffin of Crumb

Rice Chex or Mouse Chex

Plus milk. Which reminds me,

PLEASE SPILL YOUR MILK EXACTLY ONE MINUTE BEFORE TIME TO LINE UP FOR THE HALL! SPILL IT WELL! SPILL IT UPON THE RUG! AND PLEASE SOAK IT UP WITH ONE LINEAR MILE OF THE LEAST ABSORBENT PAPER TOWELS AVAILABLE ON PLANET EARTH. GOOD JOB.

OH GOD I FORGOT TO COMPLETE THE SPREADSHEET DETAILING EXACTLY HOW MANY EATERS HAVE EATEN. IT’S A LEGAL DOCUMENT! I COULD SINGLE-HANDEDLY PUT OUR FEDERAL FOOD ELIGIBILITY IN PERIL! 8:40 AND I’M ALREADY SUCKING!

Spreadsheet and remaining food must go back to the cafeteria now, with data and in its breakfast cozy crate–pick the kids least likely to careen down the stairs with the straps around their necks. This, while five more kids arrive and need to take their breakfast from the crate carriers before we all joyfully walk to specials, hopefully not music. They hate music. Music is too happy. I tell them that it’s forty minutes of their lives and we can get through forty minutes of anything.

My inner monologue: “Forty minutes you’ll never get back…”

 

 

Mice, Lice, and Everything Nice October 22, 2016

Filed under: humor,school,teaching,Uncategorized,urban schools — peachyteachy @ 9:37 pm
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This alt value should not be empty if you assign primary image

 

Peachy, end of June:

School is still in session.

We’re hard core. We like our students pissed off and confused. The lunch menu is “Chef’s Choice.” Come on!

Peachy, mid/early/late October:

School is in session, again, and this year is clearly slated to consist of 472 days rather than the customary 180. Some things cannot be altered or resolved by upping one’s coconut oil consumption.

Have you ever wondered about the origins of the iconic image of the traditional teacher, hair pulled back and up in a severe bun, cloudy spectacles perched on face? It’s not rocket science.

The bun goes up right around mid-September, at the exact moment when teacher spots tiny and tenacious members of the animal kingdom creeping up her students hair.  It used to be that school nurses would advise parents that their kid would have to be cleared before returning to school, and the remainder of the class would be lined up for the “head check.” No more.  These days, I send a kid who is visibly crawling with critters, along with a note to the nurse: “Head check?”  Six minutes later, the kid comes back with the scrawled reply: “Yes,” and a letter to take home.  Most parents in my school do a less-than-thorough treatment, supporting record levels of lice at any time of the school year.

It’s even worse when one is ambushed at head level by several kids a day, sweetly bestowing hugs before a teacher can establish a safe distance from hairdos.  At this point, teacher scalps feel perpetual itch until the end of the school year.

Let us not overlook our furry friends, the mice of the urban school.  We are provided with sticky traps, which are gory gadgets that can trap a family of mice who are out for a stroll, at which point they usually tear themselves apart in the attempt to escape. Urgent calls to the custodian result in less-than-urgent responses.  In one classroom, a teacher confiscated a note being passed from one student to another, after the entire class had been whipped into a frenzy by the squeaks of trapped rodentia .  The note read, “I tuched the mouse.”

Oh—and the glasses? That teacher’s got pink-eye.

 

 

 

My Role in the Revolution May 5, 2016

Filed under: education,humor,school,teaching,Uncategorized — peachyteachy @ 8:04 pm
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Where’s Peachy and what’s she doing? She’s busy doing her best to single-handedly dismantle our educational system, that’s what.

Exhaustive data analysis reveals that, if I administer what we call a pre-test, run detailed genetic error analysis of the test, teach for a few weeks,  then have the cherubs take it again after this period of targeted, data-driven instruction, the scores generally support the following:

A. My instruction sucks all knowledge out of the brains of children.

B. My instruction  makes children believe that they are track stars and champions of English as a Second Language (their first language: profanity).

I live to serve.  You’re welcome.

 

You might not be working at Mensa headquarters if. . . February 4, 2016

Filed under: education,humor,teaching,Uncategorized,urban schools — peachyteachy @ 6:07 pm
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*A student asks if biographies are “fake or real,” then notices the birth and death dates in a biography of MLK. “Is that his phone number?”

*A student tells that the solution to the community problem of mosquitoes in summer would be to construct a “honey city,” presumably to attract all mosquitoes away from their eons-old diet of blood from us, to an irresistible city of honey, far enough away that they set up camp and move there.

It’s been a rough week, and it’s not a full moon, so I blame the goddamned groundhog.

TWO fights in two days in my classroom—the kid involved in both NOT a heavy hitter. Particularly heart-breaking.

Today’s third grade responses to a question about a problem in our community:

1) PROBLEM: Mosquitoes

POSSIBLE SOLUTION: Honey City

 

2) PROBLEM: Shooting/Killing/Violence

POSSIBLE SOLUTION: Dangerous criminals go to super max prison.

 

3) PROBLEM: Illegally Parked Vehicles

POSSIBLE SOLUTION: Call police, tow cars, tickets

 

4) PROBLEM: Cockroaches

POSSIBLE SOLUTION: Kill them

When asked how many had been affected by Problem 2? A sea of hands.

Image:http://manasota.us.mensa.org/mbroch.jpg

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Super effective teacher immune to all that teacher crap January 14, 2016

Filed under: education,humor,teaching,Uncategorized — peachyteachy @ 7:45 pm

This school year, I am blessed to have the daily opportunity to interact with a third grader who could, arguably, teach the class. He is a gentle soul, to boot.

Today, when faced with the task of explaining recent snowfall, SweetBrainBoy raised his hand to privately ask for my assistance in spelling the word “fractal.”

Yeah, that was a first, and enough to keep any teacher going for a few more days.

A few minutes later, his hand was up again.

“Yes, SweetBrainBoy?”

“Ms. Peachy? I decided that no one would understand ‘fractal.’ So I changed it to ‘crystal,’ because then at least they will understand.”

 

 

Bribery: Still and Always, Moral Imperative November 15, 2015

Image: brothersoft.com

I wrote the following more than three years ago. I found it because I am a one trick pony who wanted to write again about bribery as a moral imperative.  It is clear that this deeply held belief has come to be held more deeply than ever. I have been buying record numbers of  “treats” to hand out like so many little placebos as I convince the youngsters that every sweet  is an indicator that they are achieving like Einstein. Truly, it usually buys me a few minutes of reduced decibel level. As a matter of fact, I was working with a colleague a few days ago when she erupted with candy from God-knows-where, proclaiming herself  a human pinata! Bribery is alive and well and living in school, my friends! That deserves a treat!

Do I want my kids to do the right things for the right reasons? Sure!

Do I tell my students that they should behave as if their grandmother is watching them at all times? Yup. God knows I shouldn’t be the only one carrying that macabre little thought around the world of the living.

Is there a little Lego set in my closet, awaiting my son’s completion of swimming lessons without melting down and leaving the premises once? Um, why, yes, there is.

Hey, I have never paid money for good grades! That is my ex’s job.

The kid is older than most of the other “Goldfish,” loves the water, but has remained absolutely terrified of going underwater.  Water in his nose, eyes, ears or mouth is reason for extreme distress.  He’s a tiny bit high maintenance. Previous attempts at swimming lessons have gone terribly wrong.  It hasn’t helped that the teachers have had exactly one strategy in their “toolkit” when it comes to getting kids “used to” going underwater. It goes something like this:

  Boy: “I CAN’T GO UNDERWATER!!!!!! NOOOOOO!!!!”

 Aquatics Instructor: “You have to.”

 Boy: (climbing instructor like a tree, screaming) “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!”

 Aquatics Instructor: “Okay, okay, you don’t have to go underwater.” Dunks him under.

 Boy: Comes up sobbing and doesn’t stop until class ends and we can leave the Satanic waterpark, having learned the invaluable life lesson: Never trust your swimming instructor. Sweet.

This display would, of course, be followed by the natural born swimmer kid who is next in line executing a back flip with a half twist into the water.  I am looking around as if to figure out which parent goes with that screaming, flailing child.  Which works for exactly ten minutes, after which we are greeted daily with whispered “Here they come”s.

You get the idea, and surely understand why part of my preparation for this swimming session was calculated bribery.  I didn’t tell him that he couldn’t cry, because I am not super pumped to shoot myself in the foot on any given day, but I did say that he would need to stay with the class for the whole time every day.  This, he did.  The first two days were painful, and did involve screaming, crying, and, yes, being forced underwater after being told he would not be.  While this does not synchronize with my personal philosophy, we managed to make it out of there mostly intact (remember, the bribe requires not melting down AND leaving the premises).  “Keep your eyes on the prize!” I said brightly.  This referred to the unknown surprise bribe awaiting him, should he complete the session.  Let’s face it, he won’t be getting a certificate for passing Goldfish!  My bribe is kind of like the “Participation” ribbon that is so coveted by the mediocre athletes of the world.  Only cooler.

The happy ending is that he turned a corner somewhere around the third day.  Strangely, this coincided with the fact that he had a substitute instructor that day who was actually skilled and was able to give him some baby steps to take to help him move in the direction of surviving wetness of face.  We call this Divine Intervention, and I am appropriately thanking the Universe.  He WILL cry today because it is the last day, and he’s like that.

Sometimes the bribery thing works, sometimes not.  I don’t honestly think that it made much difference with the swimming thing; he gets credit for making the progress that he made (as do all of the angelic host that helped him).  He also gets a prize. If folks are really up in arms about this bribery thing, tell it to the Olympic committee.

 

Feels like Sunday November 11, 2015

Filed under: humor — peachyteachy @ 7:53 pm
Tags: ,

I did a fair amount of school work today, while Facebook wondered whether I really cared about or honored our veterans enough to re-post. Sorry, fb. That’s my beeswax.

it is almost like the dreaded Sunday night, except for no mass weekly staff email to mess with my innards. That, and only two more days until a real weekend.

So the good news is, not quite so clinical depression-y as a real Sunday!

Gratitude in your face.

 

 
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