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.

Dashed Plan

I had a plan to do something cool for my 100th post.  I've seen my blogging friends do it  (here), and thought I might as well.  Alas, I missed it.  This is my 102th post (pronounced one hundred tooth).  I suppose this is all for the best, since I have nothing to give away.  But...

Huzzah!  The102th post!!!  

Who would have thought I'd be this prolific?  Not I, says I.

Today is the first day of Summer School, for which this Caped Teacher is a Caped Site Lead.  We shall see what grand stories there are to share.  As of right now, it is O'Dark-Thirty and I am up, moving around, and fixin' to go for a wog wrun.  That's dedication, no?

To show true dedication to the postage (?) of 102 vitally important things, here is a photo essay to honor the number 102...

Vermont has a road dedicated to it.

So does Minnesota.

And this state... that isn't a state, I hope.

Cruella wasn't satisfied with only 101.  Oh no. She needed 102.

These people think the number 102 is important enough to put on a space... module.

Doesn't she look great for her age?

Anhyoo (I really need to tell that story), thanks for reading my musings.  All... you guessed it... 102 of them.

Lexical Learning Lesson

I just learned something important.  You can't go willy nilly about town creating words.  I've been using the word "wog" to describe my lackluster running (get it?  walk+jog=wog?  It's math.).  I've found myself quite amusing for the past few months as I bandied this word about.

This morning, I looked it up to see if I could, perhaps, enter it into the Urban Dictionary.  I cringed at my hubris when I discovered two things...

First, I discovered that is a common acronym (see link here):

WOG  World of Goo (game by 2-D Boy)

WOG  Wake of Gods (gaming, Heroes of Might and Magic III)

WOG  Word of God

WoG   Whole of Government (Australia)

WoG   In the Wake of Gods (add-on to Heroes of Might & Magic III: The Shadow of Death)

WoG   Wrath of God (game)

WOG  Worthy Oriental Gentleman

WOG  Water-Oil-Gas (valves, pressure)

WOG  Without Guarantee

WOG  Westinghouse Owners Group

WOG  Westernised Oriental Gentleman

WOG  Working On Government (apocryphal: circa 1900s British Empire acronym stenciled on shirts of laborers assigned to government projects)

WOG  Woman of God

WOG  Without Giblets (poultry industry)

WOG  With Other Goods

WOG  Way Out Games (old TV game show)

WOG  Without Girlfriend

WOG  Watch Officer's Guide

WOG  Weight on Gear

WOG  Wisdom Oriented Guardian

WOG  Wings Of Green (US Air Force Academy sky diving team)

WOG  Whole Oat Groats (grain milling)

WOG  Work Order Generator

WOG  Work Out Gardener (prisoner status; Victoria, Australia prison system)

WOG  Way of Gun (audio course)

WOG  Weight on Ground (aviation)

Second, much to my chagrin, "wog" has been used as a  racial slur for over a  century, but as recently as the 1960's (see here). The word is already in the Urban Dictionary (see here), and is quite an ugly bit of lexicon.

So... the lesson here is to check before you start throwing words around.  I have a little work ahead of me in undoing this word usage.  When I am done, I will start using the word "wrun" instead.  And yes, I checked.  It is little more than a radio station thus far, so I am safe (for now)

Rule #11

It's Father's Day, and as I've mentioned before (here and here) even Super Teachers have Dads.  I want to send a shout-out to my Pops.  He was the first to support and, dare I say, read this blog with regularity.  He and I have worked through some things in the last thirty-odd years and each lesson has helped to make me who I am today.  I hear his voice coming from me when I am teaching, and I know he would recognize some of his own sayings and style in my teaching. His calm, loving, crazy-smart, and thoughtful conversations through the years have taught me many things I use daily.

In honor of Father's Day I am going to assign a Boss's Rule number (partial list here).  Just to point out, the assignment of a number is not level of importance, it's sort of a psychic choice of a number that best fits the rule.  In this case, it may have something to do with the importance of the number 11 as it refers to an age where many many lessons were learned.

Presenting...

Rule #11

Even Super Teachers have Dads.

Love you Pops,
B