Teaching for College and Career Readiness? Yup! November 15, 2014

 

 

One of the things they tell teachers is that one should not use sarcasm in the classroom.  Anyone who has read a few of my blog posts knows that if I took one of those moronic Facebook quizzes that ask “How sarcastic are you?” I would fall somewhere between “80 and 97 percent sarcastic”. On a good day.  That’s right, I embrace sarcasm as a trusty lifeskill, and I am proud to share that skill with my beloved students.  Without sarcasm, most teachers would be found collapsed in a pool of their own tears by the end of any given day.

Case in point: one teacher was attempting to teach a math lesson on a recent Friday afternoon. She was holding the promise of the weekly prize drawing over the students, in the hopes that this might inspire some shut up reduced volume in the room.  One student in particular was yukking it up as if the expanded form of 768 was as entertaining as an episode of Sponge Bob.  Also, she was repeatedly sticking her ample booty above the desk.  As a holder of an advanced degree, I can categorically assure you that sticking  your ass in the air is not conducive to learning, at least not in math.  Look it up. In my archives.

The aforementioned  excellent teacher made a suggestion to the class: “You can thank Ms. Zippity Doo Dah for the fact that we won’t have time for our prize drawing.”

To this, of course, several students complied, saying, “Thank you, Zippity Doo Dah.” *sigh* Clearly, this teacher had not delivered enough instruction in sarcasm. . .

But then, from out of the clear blue sky, another student, in a raspy and disgusted voice, like that of a 40-year-old smoker, yelled out, “You’re not supposed to say ‘THANK YOU!'”

“You’re supposed to just SIT THERE!”

The teacher swelled with pride.  Until the day got even better. The student continued, confirming that the teaching of the higher understanding of the sarcastic remark had been successful after all.

“. . .and FEEL ASHAMED!”

Teachers really do make a difference, after all.

 

 

 

 

Image: https://scontent-b-fra.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-frc1/t1.0-9/p552x414/1001966_650113861724104_1868953058799216981_n.jpg

 

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Awaiting Combat Pay February 7, 2013

 

 

People, give me a reality check.

There is an unspoken rule that you don’t throw pencils at your teacher, right?

Well, whatever. Geneva Conventions are lifted in the no-man’s land where I try to teach.

What exactly IS the appropriate response to this situation?

Should the teacher:

A) Use “I” statements to express disappointment at the lack of respect displayed by the student.

B) Assign a higher order thinking question to the class, asking them to describe why someone might choose to whip a pencil across a classroom at one’s teacher, providing details to support their position. Be sure to provide the state rubric to guide their response.

C) Go to one’s desk and put on one’s coat.

D) Start a firestorm of chalk, pens, crayons and don’t stop until they provide a motorcade out of there.

Write-in votes are welcome.

Inspirational Quotes January 30, 2013

#1

It is always inspirational to read heartfelt apologies written by students.  Here’s an example of how one student wiped the slate clean:

“Dear Mr. Gym,

I am sorry that I said to go suck one. I promise that I will not say it again.

Signed,

Mr. Sincerity”

Note: “Go suck one” represents approximately 7.6% of the threats of physical harm that were verbalized toward Mr. Gym. But who’s counting?

#2

Sometimes, it is difficult to respond to a student remark.  Case in point:

A sweet-looking six-year-old girl approaches my colleague, who is a lovely young woman in her twenties.

“My brother told me that you are a serial killer.”

 

Please feel free to create wall plaques of these quotes and display them on Pinterest.

 

 

 

Angry Birds Star Wars Jenga: One Game, One Goal December 27, 2012

Is there any game/app/movie franchise that is not a part of this game? No! Is there any skill that isn’t tested by the gameplay involved here? Well, maybe one or two skills remain untested.  Cooking isn’t really tested well by this game, nor are the beloved needle arts, although my son did rename Darth Vader “Darth Tenderloin,” which I found endlessly amusing.  Suffice it to say that we were successful, not only in constructing the Death Star (which one must repeat whenever one has a burning desire to play Angry Birds Star Wars Jenga), but also in destroying the Death Star, which is no small feat when Han Solo is reduced to an irritated fowl with his hair parted in the middle.  If you want to find out more details about the game, I have included an annoying YouTube tutorial for your viewing pleasure above.

Such are the simple pleasures of a teacher’s life in the few days following Christmas.  I also took a ridiculously long nap, and shoveled a foot of snow (and by that I mean several cubic feet of snow).  More vacay fun: removed the rug from son’s room, where he had thrown up in the middle of the night. Yes, the festivities just keep on rolling.

Our ultra-faithful neighbors across the street snow-blowed (snow blew?) the part of the driveway that I didn’t finish, and for that I was truly grateful. Halle freaking lujah grateful: I whipped up a plate of “Thanks -for- helping -us- out- even -though- you -won’t -let- our- kids- play- together- because- mine- is- a -heathen- who- reads- Harry -Potter- and- has- seen- representations- of- Renaissance- art” Christmas treats! It was very healing. Hopefully they didn’t notice that the star cookies were pentagrams. . .Come on, you’ve received those gag cookie cutter gifts too.

Finally, I must confess that the snowstorm arrives on the heels of my discovering that I have no snow pants that fit my son.  We had so little snow last year that, when we did try to sled, we had to throw on a couple of layers of sweat pants and race up to the hill before the 40 degree temperatures transformed our sledding adventure into a little mini Tough Mudder. This winter (today), my inadequacy is far more evident.   I have hand-me-downs in the attic, but the next size up will by when he is pushing puberty.  In addition, my holiday investments have left the snow pants budget rather depleted.  Please email if you would like to forward me your gently used outerwear, size 8-10.

Uninvited Guests—and I Don’t Mean Insects November 14, 2012

Tomorrow marks round two of parent-teacher conferences!  My goal is to have even more parents show up than I had last week! You may be dusting off the Teacher of the Year trophy, but don’t get too excited.  I had exactly one live parent show up last week.  I’m feeling pretty confident, considering the fact that I will have even more time tomorrow, including evening hours.

On another “It’s super to be a teacher” note, sometimes we run into former students.  It’s heartwarming, often. Less frequently, it’s a little bit terrifying.  For instance, when you are out in the neighborhood, walking the dog with the kid, and you hear someone saying your name, a la “I know that not Ms. Peachy! I know that not Ms. Peachy!” At this point, conversation is unavoidable. In your own neighborhood. And when you realize that the kid is a student who had frequented the office and some alternative “programs” due to years-long history of crazy violent behavior, that’s an extra special moment.  But not the most special moment.

The MOST special moment is the next day when someone knocks on  your door, and it’s–you guessed it– the kid.  Asking to play with your much younger kid, and listing video games that he wonders whether your kid plays. Def Blood? Ultimate Murder 2013? “Ummm, no, I don’t let him play violent games.” This, I say out loud, while my interior monologue goes something like this, “HELL, no, my son cannot come out and play with you, nor will he EVER be allowed to be inside any house to play any video game with you. And who the hell told you which house I live in, and you are a suspected sociopath, so, hey, it’s so nice to see you, but BUH-BYE!” I have decided that, if he pops in again, I will confide in him that I am a witch, and ask him if he would like to learn some spells.  If he says yes, I will go all crazy-eyed and let go a cackle, and offer him some mealworms for a snack.

It’s good to have a plan.