First Day Fiesta September 4, 2012

source: school.discovery.com

A question for my fellow educators: Is it bad when, after the first day of school, you spend 7-12 minutes speculating on possible self-inflicted injuries that could land you on medical leave for an extended period? Is it pissy to be annoyed at the fact that the district computers are incapable of opening the eleven documents that have been electronically transmitted, and by which we are required to take attendance sixteen times a day?

I didn’t think so!

It’s not the kids. Except for the part of the kids that talk incessantly and listen to exactly two directions out of the approximate 73 directions given today, many of them repeatedly and with visual aids.

Example:

“To make this flip book about the amazing behavior choices that will enable you to become a role model, you will first WRITE this—-THIS THING THAT I HAVE WRITTEN ON THE BOARD IN HUGE LETTERS—-each and every student will WRITE these words as your heading before you do anything else!”

Student: “Are we supposed to write something here?”

Help.

Get to know you activity: First Day of School Questionnaire. Question 3: Name the state or  province where you were born.

Student (non-refugee, white American) response: Country. When pressed, he stuck by his guns, reiterating that he did, indeed, mean “country.”

Me, in pastel voice: ” You’re pretty sure you were born in Country? Me too! Sweetie, can you go home today and check to find out which country that was?” Sweet baby Jesus, the kid who wrote “Africa” as his state or province can tell me he was born in Kenya.

Help. Please.

There is a program in our district designed to provide intensive intervention for kids who have SEVERE and continuous behavior problems.  There is a lengthy process of data collection that must be navigated in order for a student to earn a coveted spot in this program.  This is reserved for students who are extremely disruptive on a daily basis.  When one goes through this process at the end of the school year, and it is determined that the student needs this extreme intervention, the student will actually start the school year in this program. It’s established—the child needs very structured intervention in a very small group setting before he can try the general ed setting again.

I have one of those in my class,  slated to begin his new program today.

Guess who showed up on my doorstep this morning? Severe-and-Continuous-Disruptive-Behavior-Boy! It would seem (according to the grapevine, not an appropriate communication of this information) that our district has not closed negotiations with this program and has failed to contract with them in time for these super at-risk kids to start the school year where their parents are expecting them to begin. Way to go, school reformers! What a relief that you are in charge!

Did this child smack other kids today?

Yup!

Did he make fart noises several times over the course of the day?

Hell, yeah!

Did he refuse to return to the classroom with the rest of the students, after we practiced your typical first day procedures in the hall?

Sho did.

Is it fair to this kid that his plans have been abruptly changed?

God bless us, everyone.

 

 

Wheelchair is my middle name June 19, 2012

It’s a trifecta! A turkey! A trilogy! With two schooldays left, I pulled out my third wheelchair incident of the year–this one a legit broken bone, most likely.  I do feel sorry for this kid, as he wasn’t wheeled out due to screwing around and avoiding following rules and such.  He was just playing on the playground.

Followers of this blog know that I am a winner when it comes to having kids taken out in wheelchairs.  But now I hold some kind of record. I might be able to retire on this. To a tar paper shack, probably, but hey, you have to start somewhere.

School Nurse Most Wanted List was actually the first post ever for Peachyteachy.  In it, we met one of my geriatric students who possesses powers of super recovery.  He has since continued to develop his other superpower—the ability to avoid completing schoolwork.  Apparently he is planning to hone his skills in the NBA after earning high school credits for sleeping and chewing gum.

Later, Wheelchair Event #2 came along, starring another of my dedicated young scholars.  The good news is, this young man has not lapped the school swearing at all humans in his path in quite some time!  This is one of the success stories of my school year, in all seriousness. You can keep your comments about the bar and its altitude to yourself.

If I don’t get some kind of medal for this, I figure that’s pretty much it for my career.  They aren’t giving out that many teacher accolades these days.

Actually, I did receive a stellar teacher accolade today, in the form of a sweet little fragrance gift set, along with a hand-written card from a truly wonderful student.  In it, she expressed regret for the “disrespectful things” that students do and  say.  Her appreciation for how much I want them to do the right thing so that they will be happier in the future.  Despite all of my snark, this is true.  For the vast majority of my students,  I will most likely never know whether any of it made a difference, the academics or the life lessons.  The year is ending.  I feel like I have been in a war zone.  We do what we can and we let it go.