Hey, Miss, can I get some Cheetos?

I teach English to sassy teenagers.

[ditchingclass]

Attention youths of Los Angeles, Cleveland is not a farm.

I'm playing Mumford and Sons when some students walk into the classroom.

Student: What's that?

Me: Mumford and Sons.

Student: And do you listen to this often?

Me: Yes, I guess.

Student (turning to another student): See, I told you she grew up on a farm!

[ditchingclass]

Off to the hospital

I am a condom distributor for my school. When students come to get condoms from me, I am supposed to ask them two questions. 1) Do you know how to use it? and 2) Do you know what to do if it breaks?

Me: Okay, do you know what to do if it breaks?

Student: Umm, go to the hospital?

Me: No, you probably don't need to do that, but have you ever heard of Plan B?

Student: Ohhhh! You meant if the condom breaks.

Me: ...yes.

[ditchingclass]

I think this is an interesting article.  I spend a lot of time worrying that, in the interest of preparing students for everything that I am being held accountable for right now, I am not actually giving them the tools they need to be successful in college.  My students are picking up on it.  They get that teaching to the test is different from teaching for the rest of their lives and resent their success (and mine) being measured in ways that don't seem genuine.

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Facepalm

I'm reading to the students from Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass. We've been reading it together and discussing how it influenced the abolitionist movement. In the middle of the page, a student raises his hand.

Me: Yes?

D: Miss, it's Black History Month!

Me: Yup, I know.

D: Why don't you ever let us read anything about Black history in this class?

Me: ...

D: Seriously, we never read anything by Black people.

NB: Before Frederick Douglass, it was Their Eyes Were Watching God. Also, I'm fine. I know I've been gone for a while. There's been a lot of turmoil at school, but I believe from my core that whatever happens at the end will be for the best.

[ditchingclass]

Language Maps

Before we started Their Eyes Were Watching God, I had the students create language maps to illustrate the different languages they switch between each day.  They needed to show what they speak and where in some visual way, but the rest was up to them.  

After English and Spanish, some of the kids got flummoxed for a while.  And then the ideas started pouring out.  One girl raised her hand, "Miss!  Miss!  Miss!  Does Elvish count?"

[ditchingclass]

I think they've been watching too many movies

"I wish I was a white person.  All the cool white kids drive to special spots and make out in the car."

[ditchingclass]

While at home...

My dad is getting an addition put onto his house so that my stepmom's elderly mother can move in.   It's being built by Amish people.  The first thing Pop says to me when I walk into the house: "Look out the window.  The one without the beard is not married!  Just saying"

"Dad!  He's Amish.  And probably 19 years old."

"You looked!"

...

[ditchingclass]

I am unsure how to explain this.

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Snow place like home for the holidays. Stay toasty!

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Remember, they're in high school

M: Miss! Miss! Come here!

Me: Yes?

M: I got you the business card for that rug place. Are you still going to get a carpet for your room?

Me: Yeah, if I can find one.

R (who I had last year): So you guys are going to have story time on the rug?

M: Yes!

Me: Yup.

R: Why didn't you do that with us?!?

[ditchingclass]

Gravely

Each class, we start with a sentence corrrection exercise. I try to use a couple new words each day and give the definitions under the PowerPoint. Today, two of the words were 'churlish ' and 'gravely.'

Student: Oh my God, you're so churlish!

Me: I love that you're practicing with our words, but we don't need to call anyone names.

Other student: Gravely!

[ditchingclass]

Definitely video games. I adore my kiddos.

[ditchingclass]

Grading is more fun when I do it with friends and the kids are amusing.

[ditchingclass]

Today in, 'Stuff I Never Thought I'd Have to Explicitly Teach to Eleventh Graders:'

"When you tell your friend she looks like an iguana, it hurts her feelings."

[ditchingclass]

During the passing period, I stand at the door and greet incoming students while encouraging the stragglers to get to class. I can't see the board from where I stand. As I walked into the honors class, a bunch of kids in the back were cracking up.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing!"

"Okay."

"Fine, we wrote something REALLY BAD on your board when you weren't looking."

Again, they erupt into a fit of giggles. I turn around expecting the worst. I got this instead.

"See? It's super mean and totally inaccurate, huh?"

This is what passes for naughty in my honors classes, not that I'm complaining.

[ditchingclass]

har dee har har

During my honors class today, I had my formal observation. I warned them last week that the AP would be in the room for most of the period. E, one of my most energetic (but also sweetest) kids in the period came bouncing into the classroom a few minutes before the passing period ended.

E: Miss, you ready for this class to be crazy for [the AP] to see?

Me: No, I'm really not.

E: What I meant was crazy awesome because we're going to be quiet, raise our hands, and make intelligent observations.

Me: In that case, yes.

[ditchingclass]

Just when...

Last week was one of the toughest I've had in a long time. Some very bad things happened to some very wonderful children and there was nothing I could do but listen and, in doing so, try to carry some of the emotional weight for them for a while. The students noticed, and maybe if they had been my problems, I would have told them what was going on, but none of the stories were mine to tell.

"Miss, you've looked so sad lately," A said.

"I am sad."

Some of the seniors offered their assistance. They stayed after school to help me, volunteered to come into my class during times they were free to sit next to my more difficult students and make sure they were staying on task, and told their younger friends who have me this year to cut me some slack. I walked out of the classroom on Thursday to check on a kid who was taking a break outside and there was J, a student from last year, chewing him out before I had a chance to.

"Not cool, man. Not cool. You know better than this!"

Despite the warmth I felt to see my village of students embodying the kindness and empathy I try to model for them, I still looked forward so much to the three day weekend. I needed space, time, and rest. So, when I looked at my email to see my colleague and friend asking for help with a personal statement workshop for seniors on Monday, I was torn. I really needed my three days, but the seniors - the same kids who spent all of last week looking out for me - needed to finish their personal statements and time is running out. I said I'd help, guiltily keeping the option of canceling at the last minute in the back of my mind.

I made the right choice.  I spent the day surrounded by some wonderful, hard-working young people, able to sit with them and give them the kind of extended, focused assistance that is near-impossible during the school day.

One of them, R, was complaining to me about his friend as he wrote.  "She always has something to say every time I do something good," he told me.  "Sometimes I can't keep my mouth shut and I say something back."

This girl has had a rough few years, even by the standards of our school.  On top of it, her missteps have been pretty public; everyone knows what's going on.  I explained to R how tough it must be for her to watch her friends succeeding academically, preparing for college, when no matter what she does at this point, such things won't be an option for her, at least for a while.  

"Next time she starts, I'm just going to give her a hug, Miss.  I think she might need one."

"Yeah, I think she might.  I'm proud of you, kid."