Sunday, February 26
A Week Off
Well, it's back to the savages tomorrow. Hopefully I'll have demonic and hygienically unsound classes to regale y'all with. Until then, here's something to tide over whoever stumbles over this thing:
The best anagram for X-man Wolverine?
"Wine Lover"
The best anagram for X-man Wolverine?
"Wine Lover"
Sunday, February 19
Can students be friends?
At least for subs, the answer seems to be no.
A class starts the day on-task and quiet (like Friday's 6th graders). I notice this. I think, hey this class has it together. So I let my guard down. Crack a joke. Appear approachable. Maybe it's something as small as allowing myself to smile.
And every time, by the end of the day my back is covered in footprints.
Maybe the kids read these as signs of weakness. I don't know. Can I have a good time and keep the kids on the lesson plan?
A class starts the day on-task and quiet (like Friday's 6th graders). I notice this. I think, hey this class has it together. So I let my guard down. Crack a joke. Appear approachable. Maybe it's something as small as allowing myself to smile.
And every time, by the end of the day my back is covered in footprints.
Maybe the kids read these as signs of weakness. I don't know. Can I have a good time and keep the kids on the lesson plan?
Wednesday, February 15
Shhhh....
Today the best behaved fifth-graders in the world got me as a sub. Quiet, hard-working, pleasant, nothing interesting can be said about this class.
Whenever one raised his voice to a respectfully subdued whisper a devilish grin spread across his face, as if he was getting away with something. I played along, giving them a dangerous glare whenever I caught one of the punks so much as leaning towards another's ear.
How useless was I today? As the entire lesson plan called for the uber-kids to work on their own, I tried my best to wedge instruction anywhere I could. While they read a story (The one about the frontier kid who teaches an Indian to read and write using Robinson Crusoe) I occasionally interrupted, trying to teach something.
"You know, uh, Robinson Crusoe was written by Willem Dafoe."
Like the great kids they were, each would smile warmly and nod, as if they were actually giving my desperate ramblings thought.
Whenever one raised his voice to a respectfully subdued whisper a devilish grin spread across his face, as if he was getting away with something. I played along, giving them a dangerous glare whenever I caught one of the punks so much as leaning towards another's ear.
How useless was I today? As the entire lesson plan called for the uber-kids to work on their own, I tried my best to wedge instruction anywhere I could. While they read a story (The one about the frontier kid who teaches an Indian to read and write using Robinson Crusoe) I occasionally interrupted, trying to teach something.
"You know, uh, Robinson Crusoe was written by Willem Dafoe."
Like the great kids they were, each would smile warmly and nod, as if they were actually giving my desperate ramblings thought.
Friday, February 10
A Very Strange Day in Junior High
I may have done my first horrible thing today. The kind of thing that kids will remind each other of years afterward. "Do you remember that one sub? That crazy sub?" I'll blame the steadily mounting pressure of the day, starting with...
The Kid Who Wouldn't Take Off His Hat
Five times I tell this one lil angel to take off his hat. And six times he put it back on. Then he took a picture with his cell phone without turning that unmistakable digital picture click sound off.
My first confiscated cell phone!
Michael Freekin' Moore
Back row, center aisle. Here's this perfect tiny human being tracking me with a digital camcorder.
What. The. Hell.
I get up from my desk. He tilts the camera up, keeping his eyes glued to the flip out screen.
I walk down the aisle. The lens follows.
I'm standing over this delightful cherubic specimen of innocence. He leans back to keep the camcorder trained on my face.
"You can have that back at the end of the period"
"OK"
Finally, that Terrible Thing
How does a kid get a pen with a built-in Operation game?
This thing was the size of a cucumber and perfectly mimicked that annoying buzz from the Operation home game.
I see this monstrosity, I ask the shining beacon of scholarship if he has to use a pen that big. He says it's his only one.
It buzzes and buzzes, I tell him he can borrow a pencil. I don't want to see the board game again.
He puts it away and as soon as my back is turned...
BUZZ!
When I turn around, there's this mini man of letters smiling with that damn pen.
I'm sick of confiscating things at this point. So, I chuck that football sized pen into the trash. I tell the flawless academic he knows where he can pick up his pen after class.
A synchronized gasp sweeps over the room. Didn't have too many more problems with that period.
Am I a monster?
The Kid Who Wouldn't Take Off His Hat
Five times I tell this one lil angel to take off his hat. And six times he put it back on. Then he took a picture with his cell phone without turning that unmistakable digital picture click sound off.
My first confiscated cell phone!
Michael Freekin' Moore
Back row, center aisle. Here's this perfect tiny human being tracking me with a digital camcorder.
What. The. Hell.
I get up from my desk. He tilts the camera up, keeping his eyes glued to the flip out screen.
I walk down the aisle. The lens follows.
I'm standing over this delightful cherubic specimen of innocence. He leans back to keep the camcorder trained on my face.
"You can have that back at the end of the period"
"OK"
Finally, that Terrible Thing
How does a kid get a pen with a built-in Operation game?
This thing was the size of a cucumber and perfectly mimicked that annoying buzz from the Operation home game.
I see this monstrosity, I ask the shining beacon of scholarship if he has to use a pen that big. He says it's his only one.
It buzzes and buzzes, I tell him he can borrow a pencil. I don't want to see the board game again.
He puts it away and as soon as my back is turned...
BUZZ!
When I turn around, there's this mini man of letters smiling with that damn pen.
I'm sick of confiscating things at this point. So, I chuck that football sized pen into the trash. I tell the flawless academic he knows where he can pick up his pen after class.
A synchronized gasp sweeps over the room. Didn't have too many more problems with that period.
Am I a monster?
Thursday, February 9
Back in the Game!
Three days, three jobs, starting on...
TUESDAY
It's nice when a teacher tries to make the usually monotonous day of a sub a little more interesting, like by hiding the lesson plan.
Luckily a fellow teacher heard about the problem and was able to look for it with me while the kids did a distracting journal write. We didn't find anything, but she gave the class a stern talking to on my behalf, here's the gist of it:
"OK, now we couldn't find your teacher's lesson plan, but he (jerks thumb in my general direction) is just like a real teacher. In fact he is a real teacher! So treat him like you would a real teacher."
As if they couldn't already sense my panic before little miss divulge-all tells them I've got nuthin'. But at least she ordained me a "real teacher!" Oh boy Geppeddo, just like I always wanted!
Bright side: Lesson plan eventually found, mixed in with a stack of papers on her desk. No title and the whole thing was typed in a single paragraph, how'd I miss it?
WEDNESDAY
Half day at a kindergarten less than a mile from my house. Ahhhhhhh.
The tykes were polite, this bowl haircutted Cherub even complimented my shoes.
Like anyone with the dietary staple of paste, they were full of non-sequiturs, the best:
Yesterday somebody farted at the YMCA.
I think that might be my new favorite sentence in the English language.
TODAY
What could be easier than a batch of well-behaved kindergarteners? Try middle school PE.
After five periods of saying perhaps the same dozen words to the kids ("Take roll," "exercises," "run a lap around the grass," "play basketball.") accompanied by the same gestures (hand roll sheet to TA, point towards exercise area, point to field, nod towards bag of basketballs) I started feeling like one of those robots on a Disneyland ride.
Best reason to sub middle school? The off-chance of getting a prep period right before or after lunch. That's a two hour break! Tell you what, my index finger needed it.
TUESDAY
It's nice when a teacher tries to make the usually monotonous day of a sub a little more interesting, like by hiding the lesson plan.
Luckily a fellow teacher heard about the problem and was able to look for it with me while the kids did a distracting journal write. We didn't find anything, but she gave the class a stern talking to on my behalf, here's the gist of it:
"OK, now we couldn't find your teacher's lesson plan, but he (jerks thumb in my general direction) is just like a real teacher. In fact he is a real teacher! So treat him like you would a real teacher."
As if they couldn't already sense my panic before little miss divulge-all tells them I've got nuthin'. But at least she ordained me a "real teacher!" Oh boy Geppeddo, just like I always wanted!
Bright side: Lesson plan eventually found, mixed in with a stack of papers on her desk. No title and the whole thing was typed in a single paragraph, how'd I miss it?
WEDNESDAY
Half day at a kindergarten less than a mile from my house. Ahhhhhhh.
The tykes were polite, this bowl haircutted Cherub even complimented my shoes.
Like anyone with the dietary staple of paste, they were full of non-sequiturs, the best:
Yesterday somebody farted at the YMCA.
I think that might be my new favorite sentence in the English language.
TODAY
What could be easier than a batch of well-behaved kindergarteners? Try middle school PE.
After five periods of saying perhaps the same dozen words to the kids ("Take roll," "exercises," "run a lap around the grass," "play basketball.") accompanied by the same gestures (hand roll sheet to TA, point towards exercise area, point to field, nod towards bag of basketballs) I started feeling like one of those robots on a Disneyland ride.
Best reason to sub middle school? The off-chance of getting a prep period right before or after lunch. That's a two hour break! Tell you what, my index finger needed it.
