Tag Archives: teachers live at school

>The flu has landed…

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>Husband took off for the weekend, with my encouragement. Amigo and I are both sick, coughing and weak and feeling generally lousy. Husband wanted to know if he should stay home and take care of us. I said no, go. He did, but we could tell he was a little worried.
He did the right thing. He’ll come home late Sunday night to a messy house, with wastebaskets overflowing with tissue and no laundry done, but he will also keep himself away from the worst of the contagion. By the time he gets here, mom and teen will be a bit more rested and no longer actively spreading our germs to anyone within breathing distance. And since Amigo and I are starting to get better (slowly, but surely), it would be a lousy weekend to be here “caring” for us. Basically, Amigo rests on the couch, I doze off in the recliner, and we wake up now and then to watch TV or read a book or eat a bowl of soup or jello. Neither of us have a fever today (thank goodness!), so I feel like we’re on the road to recovery. We are cranky, but we are cranky at each other, so it’s all equitable, right?
Amigo was sicker than I was, poor kid. I feel lousy because my asthmatic lungs won’t expel the thick ugly stuff that wants to live there, but Amigo’s temp was much higher and he is having a much harder time regaining his energy. He didn’t touch the computer for almost three straight days. For him, this was a clearer indication of illness than the 102.4 temp.
La Petite did not come home this weekend, either. Staying at school was safer for her.
I’m not looking forward to going back to work. If I feel better, I’ll take advantage of our day off on Monday and go in to work at my desk. If not, I’ll rest all day. Either way, I have a huge amount of work piled on my desk and very little energy with which to approach it. Sigh. I need to stop thinking about what I’m missing. It keeps me from relaxing enough to sleep. In fact, I had a nightmare last night about falling even further behind in my work and then ending up in the hospital for pneumonia and a poor unknowing substitute having to wade through my papers to teach Growth and Development, a.k.a. Sex Ed. (That thought is actually rather humorous)
Dreams may come true — but I didn’t wish on a star, so hopefully this one will fly away instead.

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>Chocolate is the cure

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>There’s a Nestle’s Crunch bar in my schoolbag. It’s been there for at least a month. I haven’t eaten it (yet). My co-worker handed it to me one day in return for a favor. I reminded her that she didn’t have to bribe me, and I really did try to give it back, but she insisted. Just twisted my arm. Ouch. Uh-huh. I was totally forced to accept this chocolate bar.
Segue to the current day. My period is starting, I had a challenging day at school teaching sex ed to sixth graders, and now I sit with a cup of sugar free Cafe Vienna in front of me. I plan to read the newspaper or pick up a book and slowly sip this delectable beverage. I just haven’t decided what my after-school snack will be.
I’ve been rereading the Harry Potter series in preparation for the summer debut of the seventh and last in the series. I just pulled the third, Prisoner of Azkaban, off my shelf last night. I really enjoy observing the writer’s craft, the way JK Rowling develops her plots. I hadn’t realized that she uses the term “Azkaban guards” for several chapters before actually introducing the Dementors by name.
Come to think of it, the newspaper and the real world can wait. I think I’ll combat this PMS with a cozy blanket, a cup of Cafe Vienna, and a Harry Potter book. And if I encounter any of those nasty dementors —
I might have to open my school bag for the cure.

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>Stress? What stress?

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It’s like the juggling act. I’ve described it here. But this time, I’m feeling rather indifferent about the whole picture, kind of a teenage “whatever” mood.

Amigo isn’t doing well in school, and yes, I’m worried. I’m not sure which route to take right now. And since I don’t know which way to turn, I’ll just pull over to the side and have coffee at the little diner on the corner until I figure out what to do.
I’ll know more about “Mort”, as my friends now call it, after tomorrow’s appointment with the specialist. I predict surgery. I’ll ask all of the questions about healing time and how-soon-do-I-need-it, and then we’ll schedule. After that’s in place, I’ll deal with my long-term substitute and my class. I’ve done this before, about eight years ago, and I know the basics. My co-workers are a lot stronger now than they were eight years ago. My class will be in good hands. I haven’t figured out my remaining accrued sick leave; I guess I’d better calculate that before I see the doc.
La Petite is doing well. Her new bug-eyed fish is enjoying the small aquarium on her dorm room desk. She named him Lenny Briscoe.
And last, but not least, I am fighting off a cold. This, I can handle. I will take some Airborne in a few minutes, after I finish a little orange-spice tea in my Ducks in a Row mug. I don’t really have all my ducks in a row, but I like to pretend. At least that way I can sleep at night.

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>Darn those armchair quarterbacks. I want to play.

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>It’s been a rough week at the office — or at school. I am so tired of being second-guessed and even insulted by people who think that since they hold high school diplomas they know everything about teaching and can tell me what and how to teach my class.
Phew. There. Take a breath. It’s Friday. And it’s not just any weekend — it’s one of my favorite weekends of the year. Tonight, just after ten, I return (virtually) to my college days and visit my alma mater for the annual Trivia Contest.
Some people go to Florida. Some go skiing. I gather up my books, computer, and cell phone, and join with friends and family to compete in a venture with only negligible worth. The prizes are junk. The questions are ridiculous. The pressure — well, it’s as much or as little as I want.
This year I plan to play, but not compete. I will sleep at night rather than stay up to catch the overnight questions. I might help Amigo field his own team like he did last year.
Trivia is addicting. Ken Jennings admits as much in his book Brainiac. Yes, I read it. I’m such a trivia geek, I got the book as a birthday gift. Ken didn’t visit or write about LU’s contest, but he’d like it if he did. In fact, I’ll take a chance (since I’m sure Ken Jennings doesn’t read my blog) and put an open invitation for Ken to visit my family and play Lawrence University Trivia. With his quick mind and great wealth of knowledge, he’d love it.
For those of you who are really curious, check it out yourself! The contest is now totally internet based. Since the college gave up its on-campus over-the-air radio station, they went online. Anyone can look into it, and anyone can play. Go to the WLFM homesite and click on connect or Tune In. If you’re listening this weekend, listen for these teams.
Six Feet Under: Not HBO, Just Trivia (our Big Team: we usually finish in the top ten)
Tonka Truckloads of Trivia or the Fire Truck Kid (I’m not sure which name Amigo will use this year for his team)
Nudge (I played for this team in the early 80’s when they were new on the scene)
And a team name that deserves points for creativity, even though I don’t know a soul on it: The Dyslexic Agnostic Insomniacs Lying Awake at Night Wondering if there really is a Dog

To gear up for the weekend, I’m dressed in my favorite sweatshirt. Start the coffeepot, I’m ready!!!

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>Every story, new or ancient

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>This one is ancient. I tell it to my classes or to my peer mediators and ask for their interpretation. Pull up a carpet square or a floor pillow, listen closely, and think. Share with your tweens.

The Gossip
A long, long time ago, a young man set a goal for improving himself. We call them New Year’s resolutions, but way back then he simply called it a goal. He wanted to stop being a gossip. And since he wasn’t going to gossip any more, he thought he’d find a way to make amends for the gossip he had spread in his past.
The young man went to the rabbi because he was the wisest man in town. The rabbi’s advice was valued and trusted. He asked the rabbi, “How can I make it up to the people about whom I’ve gossiped? I want to fix everything.”
The rabbi told him, “Go get a chicken from the butcher. Bring it to me. On the way, pluck all the feathers from the chicken so that it’s ready to cook when you get here.”
Now, back in the time of this story, the butcher wasn’t a clean glass counter at the Piggly Wiggly. The chickens didn’t come in a nice shrink-wrapped package. The butcher himself went out back, grabbed a chicken, wrung its neck, and then handed over the carcass, feathers and all. And his shop was on the opposite end of town from the rabbi’s home, so the young man had quite a way to go before he delivered his poultry to the rabbi’s stove. To save time, he plucked the feathers as he walked briskly across the town.
The young man arrived at the rabbi’s home. “Here it is,” he panted. “It looks like a good one. And I plucked every last feather. Have I made amends? Have I fixed the damage done by my past gossip?”
“Thank you,” the rabbi replied. “To fix the damage done by your past gossip, you now need to find all of the feathers from this chicken and put them together again.”
“But…but…I can’t do that! They are all over town! They have flown to the winds! It would be impossible to gather them all again!” the young man sputtered.
“Ah, and so it is with gossip. Once released, it flies to the winds. It spreads all over town. It is impossible to make amends. To truly stop gossip from hurting, you must not spread it to begin with.”

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>Snowy days and Mondays

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>Omens that foretell a challenging week ahead:

  • the entire class talks through the announcement about “snow rules” on the playground
  • the special ed teacher for emotional/behaviorally challenged students is off to a training seminar
  • the school counselor is off to the same training seminar
  • the school principal is also off to the same training seminar
  • Little Jenny comes up and says, “I’m so tired I could fall asleep at my desk.”
  • Little Johnny has a note from his mom proclaiming that he didn’t get any help with his math
  • the class quiets down briefly to listen to the new read-aloud book by an award-winning author, long enough to hear dialogue that includes the word “Hell”
  • two students are absent: a different two from those that were absent last Friday
  • at least four teachers are out sick
  • the sub who “didn’t help” little Johnny with his math confirms that the kid lied through his teeth
  • the undiagnosed ADHD child keeps interrupting
  • his diagnosed but unmedicated friend joins in
  • Later on, little Jenny points out, “I’m still yawning all the time!”
  • the class seems to be having a squeaking contest in the hall with their wet boots after lunch recess
  • Little Johnny announces that he didn’t “get it” the first time fractions were taught, either.
  • Georgie Porgie gets in trouble for throwing snowballs at recess, and then wonders why I hounded him to listen to announcements.
  • Behaviorally challenged child tries to leave science class three times to use the bathroom. I let him go once, stop him twice, and hope he doesn’t really need it again.
  • Little Jenny again shares, “I think I’m going to fall asleep.”
  • I say, “I’ll wake you when the bell rings.”
  • She replies,”Good luck. I’m a sound sleeper.”

So am I. Good night! It’s been a long week already, and tomorrow’s only Tuesday.

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>Help put some fun into fundraising

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Our PTA is having a basket raffle soon. My class is creating a “basket” along the theme of gardening. Well, short of hoisting my compost bin into the school lobby, I’m a little limited as to donations so far. I’m hoping that a few parents will shop this weekend and start the collection. Blog -readers, oh gentle Internet folk, could you please honor the end of “De-lurking week” with suggestions for a garden basket? I have a few ideas aside from the basic seeds and tools, but I would like to suggest things that families in my class can afford to buy and donate. And fun, of course. Think outside the lines — and outside the rabbit fencing! No, I can’t donate the rubber chicken. It belongs to La Petite.

De-lurking week is sponsored by Sheryl of Paper Napkin. She provided several buttons we can display; I posted the one I liked best.

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>Welcome to space camp — aka the first day back at school after a long break

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>The spaciest thing I did today:
I put on my jacket this morning and reached for my green pair of gloves.
At the end of the day, I put on my jacket and discovered that there was a black and white pair of gloves in the left sleeve (yes, mom, the ones that look like cows). They had been there all the time and I never even noticed. I pulled them out, put both pair in my schoolbag, and went home, contemplating having my morning cuppa before leaving for school instead of at my desk.
Another spacy thing I did today:
I wore a new pair of boots. I’ve been lazy (I admit it), a veritable couch potato, for the last week and a half. Getting back on my feet for the day and wearing a new pair of leather boots with a moderate (read: low) heel was painful. Tomorrow? My new Keds.

But one of my students did something even, um, less logical (read: thoughtless). I caught her in the act of writing a note to a friend. I confiscated the note. She re-wrote it. Sure, now she decides that re-writes are valuable in the writing process! I confiscated the second copy. When I read the note (privately, of course), I realized that it needed to be addressed in the context of inappropriate behavior because it involved her bragging about breaking a rule at recess time. Duh!

The morals of the story:
Wear comfortable shoes on the first day after a lazy break.
Look in coat sleeves before reaching for gloves.

And advice for the Little Scribbler?
If you want to stay out of the principal’s office, don’t put your transgressions in writing. Twice.

And I thought I was only going to teach math, reading, and science today.

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>Off we go —

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>Today is my last day of break. My last day to sleep in, my last day to hang out on the computer reading blogs, and my last day to “get things done” at home. Tomorrow I get back into my workday routing of getting up at 5:30, getting Amigo through his morning routine and on his bus before 7:00, and then hitting the road for the (thankfully short) commute to school.
I feel tired already.
I always feel a little regretful as I head back into the school routine. It’s not as severe as burn-out, but it’s a definite down emotion. Part of that down-and-out comes from difficult working conditions with an ever-increasing workload, uncooperative families, and the whirlwind final weeks of this semester. We’re going into the second half of our second year without a contract, with no sign of progress anytime soon. If we approve a contract in the next few months, then the negotiations can begin for the next one that starts in July of ’07. Yes, you read that right.
I start to feel more upbeat when I’m actually at my desk and getting the day’s materials and plans ready. This, to me, is the heart of teaching: knowing the students, taking the curriculum and making it accessible so that they can learn it.
I spent several hours of break correcting and analyzing a pre-test (not fun) so that I know where to focus in the next math chapter. Fractions can be enjoyable; and now that I know what they already know and what they’ll need to review and relearn, I can start digging out the more interesting and motivating activities to help them learn it. This is the last year they’ll have for a really thorough foundation in fractions, as the middle school math program presumes a solid knowledge base, so I really spend time working toward mastery in this chapter.
There. I feel a little better already. It’s not about the bubble tests or the required district assessments; it’s about the kids, who they are, how they learn, and how I can teach them.
Early to bed tonight, and then off I go tomorrow, strong coffee in hand, to start 2007.

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