Seriously?

from The Onion

I had to break up a fight yesterday.  Let me share some of the phrases that were being bandied about (with some details altered to protect the guilty):

A: "It's 10:55."
B: "Nuh-uh, it's 10:54."
A: "My watch says it is"
B: "Then check your cell phone."
A: "You can't talk to me like that."
B: "You can't talk to ME like that."
Me (trying to come between them):  "How about you let me take care of this?"
A: "You come here and say that to me."
B: "You are being ridiculous."
A: "YOU are being ridiculous!"
Me: (physically moving one of them away) "I will take care of this.  Go stand over there."
A: "It's 10:55 now. "
B: "No it's not.  It's 10:54 and 30 seconds."
A:  "How dare you talk to me like this!"
B: "How dare you talk to ME like this!"
Me: "No.  Really.  Stop.  Now. "

Here is the interesting part.  This was not, as you might safely imagine, an argument between two children. This was between two staff members.  And no, I am not kidding.  There was yelling, posturing, name-calling, accusations.  It was cah-ray-zee.  Get me back to my classroom, please!!!

We Do What We Can...

I have a request...

I am looking for a bunch of small flash drives for my students.  I was shopping online and realized that lots of companies seem to be handing out little flash drives with their logos on them for advertising.  I don't need tons of space on any one flash drive, just enough for each student to have an alternate save space for their work (because of a temperamental network).

So... my point?  I am wondering if any of you fine folks have any of those little, freebie, flash drives laying about your workspaces that you don't want.  Yes, this is, in effect, begging.  I am thinking though, that there may be more than one secret stash of practically useless flash drives around that you would like to recycle.  If this is the case, may I request that you send them my way?  I will gladly pay postage, or coffee, or...  well that's all I'd actually pay I think.

If, in your search for useless flash drives you find other useless objects you think a poverty-stricken classroom might use, I will gladly take it off your hands.  Budget cuts, you know...

Please feel free to ignore this message if you are thinking any of the following:
"Ummm... what?"
"Budget cuts?  I'll show you budget cuts!"
"Flash drive?  Useless?  Never!"
"Who IS this?"

Quote of the Week #7

Working on colors with a very young boy-child with no school experience...

Me: Show me green.
D: Green.
Me:  Good! Show me yellow (putting yellow and purple in front of him).
D: Green.
Me: That was green. Now show me yellow (pointing to yellow and purple).
D:  See the TV?
Me:  Yes.  Now show me yellow.
D:  I watch TV later?
Me: Yes, later.  Now show me yellow (lifting up yellow and putting it down).
D:  This is green.
Me:  Yes!  It is!  Now show me yellow.
D:  I lay down now.
Me: First show me yellow (pointing to yellow and purple)
D:  Yes I lay down.
Me: Do you have green?
D:  Yes.  This is green.
Me:  Good!  Now show me yellow...

R@NDOM

It turns out that being a Caped Site Lead for summer school takes more energy than I thought.  Either that, or my expectation of energy expenditure was too low, and my actual energy expenditure was too high, resulting in an all-over slug-like laziness.

Anyhoo (yes, I will tell you about Nana and the "anyhoo"), I have a list running of deep-change-the-world questions I could talk to y'all about.  I will list them.  Then, perhaps, I will attempt to answer.  But not both in one day.  That would be too much!

• Do Site Lead duties this year include more than bus issues and paper towel emergencies?
• If you arrive at one of your sites to find a firetruck and a paramedic, are you allowed to be short-tempered with your office staff for not telling you why? 
• How does this caped teacher plan for the teaching of two little boys who are home-bound due to illness?  How does this same teacher not scoop up said boys and hug them and squeeze them?
• How does this caped teacher like her new haircut? What does it feel like to be "the principal lady with the purple hair?"
• Why did I think my dog was trying to shake me awake from a nap today, when she was nowhere near me?
• How cool is it that J. taught G. to how to sit in his chair?
• How did one such as I learn to love polyester pants?

Those are the questions we all ponder, are they not?  Share thoughts if y'unta.  I still plan to answer at least some of them.  You may suggest which ones.

Taking Credit

I received an email from a former student this morning.  She is a-maze-ing.  I told her I will be taking credit for that.

Just to ease the minds of folks who might think I actually think I mean that, I don't. In reality,  I will only take credit for realizing she is amazing.  In my made-up world of super-hero teacher things, I will pretend I created her amazing-ness.  See how this works?

Anyhoo (remind me to share the story of my Nana and the word "anyhoo"), here is a small portion of her email.  This is the part where she compares me to two other teachers:

"...up there with the sassy anthropology teacher who threatened the class on a daily basis and the apparel design professor who reminded me I was not hot shit on a daily basis (she would use those exact words, too.) Those [kids] are super lucky. I would tell them myself, but I would probably terrify them. In all reality, I am a beast. "

Now.  It appears I am in the company of teachers that are threatening students and telling them that they are not as amazing as they are.  Hmmmm.  Analysis time.  Of course I prefer to focus on two things.  First, I am  indubitably sassy.  This is a fair comparison.  Second, from her email I can see that this young woman is clearly in tune with herself, intelligent, and on a fulfilling life-path.  THAT is the very best thing to see.  To hear now that any one of my little chic-a-dees are happy, healthy, and moving forward is the greatest thing about this job.  It doesn't matter how that happened.  YEAY to you J.!!!


**Note--I must admit to one small failure on the part of this young lady.  As her Spanish teacher, I always hoped she might have learned... you know... Spanish.  It appears that, when in danger of incarceration by the Mexican authorities, she was only able to pull out the following phrase, “Bailo en el baño con un mono feo.”  While I am tickled by the thought of dancing in the bathroom with an ugly monkey, and the fact that she used correct grammar to communicate this idea, I am a little concerned about her safety.  I am also now forced to admit that I may well be one of the Spanish teachers I heard tales about.  Sigh.