Recently overheard in my classroom:

• "Mrs. ******, you don't miss a beat, do you?"
• "Mrs. ****** - you own!"
• "I just finished the book - wow - I didn't expect that. I feel kind of weird."
• "Do a wheelie on your bike, Mrs. ******!" (it's Tootsie Roll day = Biker Day. I went for the little-kid biker look complete with helmet and bike with bell and streamers...photos coming soon, hopefully)
• Me, to a group of AP studnets noisily working outside my room: "Hey guys, you wanna see what learning looks like? Check out the students in my room right now!" (all my Comm I kids are toally engrossed in Of Mice and Men)

We scared the crap out of the those failing in the team-taught class. We even brought in the principal to talk to them about pulling their heads from their rear-ends. I loved it. They hated me for a few minutes, but when they realized that I was giving them a second chance of sorts (re-do their crappy journals for 1/2 credit) they seemed to like me a whole lot more. Not that I'm in this to be liked. I'm here to educate, but being liked sure makes the education part so much easier.

In other news, today was P.J. day for spirit week. LOVE P.J. day - wore the Adidas pants and robe. Can't go wrong. Tomorrow - Western Day.

How to Burst My Bubble:

Grade journals for team-taught Great American Stories class. Nearly 1/2 the class is failing due to NOT TURNING IN THE DAMN WORK. Is it too much to ask for 6 1/2 page journal entries since the beginning of the year? That's 3 weeks, folks. Maybe this team-teaching thing isn't as great as I thought. In my regular classes the kids are nearly all passing, with a total of 4 failers between two classes. They're turning in their work.

Time for a marathon mommy and daddy-calling session. I want so badly to treat them as adults, but can't - so they need to be tattled on.

If you are into young adult lit, love Sherman Alexie (Smoke Signals) have an interest in Native American culture, or are looking for a fun, quick read, check out The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian.

Alexie has a great voice and a cutting wit that could be construed as flippant and or offensive, but it's right up my alley. He is a Spokane Indian and writes from a point of view which is hard to argue with. He has written numerous essays, scripts, short stories and novels that all deal with the difficulties of living as a Native American in a country that seems to have forgotten what was done to their land's original inhabitants.

Yeah, the book'll be banned for some subject matter and language (naughty words like "shit" and some things sexual in nature,but not at all out of the realm of most normal teens), but for anyone who has worked with Native students, it's an important book. I read this little wonder in one night - a school night.

This is what bliss feels like:

So we're reading Of Mice and Men in my Communications I class. The thing about this class is that it is supposed to be a modified version of American Literature, although very few of the kids actually need the mods. Most are there simply because they failed Am Lit due to excessive absences and or poor choices. Don't get me wrong, I have 5 IEP students who have pretty low reading levels, but overall these kids are capable. When I started at my school last year the class had been taught from the standpoint that most of these kids are going to go on to do one of three things:
1. Go on to tech school
2. Go on to work as a mechanic
3. Drop out

Not a good way to approach an American Lit class, in my opinion.

Most of these kids don't belong in a class where they are coddled, and most have been told they're not smart for far too long. The book was called Literature for Work and Life and it included sorry-ass, watered-down versions of stuff like the Constitution and chopped up crap adaptations of stories about runaway teens, mechanics and farmers. It was a serious slap in the face to not only the teachers (in my opinion), but also the kids. According to the curriculum the only thing we "have" to teach them is Huck Finn, which is arguably one of the most difficult pieces taught in our entire curriculum.

I taught the course in this manner for 1/2 the semester last year, and then I decided to try out Of Mice and Men just to see what would happen. The kids ate that shit up, and so this year I decided from the get-go that I was going to change the way this course it taught, and that if it went well, that I'd re-design the entire curriculum for next year.

See, I never really wanted to teach mod classes - I LOVE my Pre-AP 10 classes (which I totally lucked out in even having as a 1st year teacher last year, and which I have again this year as well). The lit is just so great – we’re talking Catcher, Mockingbird, Lord of the Flies (not Am Lit, I know, but still taught in the Am. Lit course, weird), etc. and since it's mostly the stuff the Am. Lit kids get as Juniors, I decided to simply transfer much of the stuff I do in Pre-AP 10 into Communications (mod. version of Am. Lit). I think I raised a few eyebrows when I declared this at the last department meeting of the year, but they let me and my idealistic ways skip off into the never-never land of summer. These kids deserve to read great literature, too!

So, fast forward back to my classroom yesterday, Friday. It is difficult day to teach much because the homecoming pepfest was after 1st hour - everyone knows the rest of the day is pretty much shot and that next week, Spirit Week, is a lost cause, too. Our school has an INORDINATE amount of school spirit. Seriously.

Anyway, so the kids, 25 boys (mostly corn fed gear-heads, who are a ton of fun to work with, BTW), and 6 girls, know that their assignment is to finish chapter 4 by Monday. This is a pretty big assignment for most of them (around 60 pages), considering over half of the class has admittedly never technically finished a novel. Since the block was cut short by about 10 minutes due to pep fest, I told the kids that after the reading minute that they'd have 40 minutes of SSR and if they were on task and reading/working on study guides, that we'd have a surprise for the last 1/2 hour of class (watching the most excellent film version of OMAM). I told them that at 2:00 we'd come back together for the surprise if all went well.

Expecting whining about 40 whole minutes of SSR, constant vigilance on my part, and about 15 bathroom break requests, I settled into prowling about the room and the plaza area just outside my room where kids were sprawled about with their books open wide. After a few minutes, things seemed decently under control, so I let my Para do the prowling while I sat down to send a few e-mails, do attendance, and key in some grades.

At quarter till 2:00 things were still totally silent. I was in shock. I continued to work at my desk, and my Para ran upstairs to make copies of her weekly reports. I became engrossed in a long e-mail and when I looked up at the clock, it read 2:05. I scanned the room for signs of packing up, but the kids were all reading silently, wrapped up in George and Lennie's mishaps on the ranch. I got up, called in the few kids reading in the plaza area and grabbed the film, ready for a rambunctious response to a film on a Friday, but was instead shocked when about half of the class moaned that they wanted to keep reading instead of watching the film!

H, a beautiful Somali girl asked, "Is it alright if I keep reading while the movie plays?"

A, the IEP student who has been a big problem in the past, but who has totally shaped up since I made him sign a contract for me, asked "Do you mind if I work on my study guide while the movie plays?"

I can barely keep the grin off of my face.

I tell them both that I don’t mind at all and pop in the film.

Twenty minutes later I stop the film and ask them what they think so far, and they shout out various comments that tell me they are really soaking up the lessons on plot and character we've studied so far.

WOW.

They’re comparing and contrasting their ideas of character and the actors’ versions of Lennie and George.

Then comes the kicker, that orgasmic teacher moment:

I tell the kids that I'm going to ask them to do something that an English teacher will probably never ask them to do again: not to read ahead. See, I have this sweet station activity that we'll do on Monday that requires that they do not know the outcome of the book. They can't know what happens to Candy's dog or Lennie. It simply won't work.

When I ask them not to read ahead I hear another set of moans. What the hell is going on here?

J says "But I already started chapter 5! For once I'm ahead!"

M asks, "Is it OK that I just read ahead, like, 10 pages?"

WTF? I smile, and tell them to enjoy their weekends and to be ready for the quiz on Monday. I let them go a minute early, which I NEVER do.

As they flood out, I wonder what is going on here? These moments are supposed to take years of practice. These moments are not supposed to take place in the classroom of a 2nd year teacher. These moments are reserved for master teachers, not me.

But, do you know what? I'm going to take it and run. I'm going to remember that moment when the going gets tough and I'm being shit on, because it will surely happen, but I'll always have this moment.

Thanks, 4th hour.

UPDATE:

1. Video club is a go - just waiting for final funding ok from Studnet Council. Hope this will be up and running by November
2. I finally got my noodle-drenched laptop fixed!
3. I have only smoked 3 cigarettes in the last month - thanks bronchitis, for helping to rid me of my bad habit.

I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop. I'm waiting to stick my foot in my mouth. I'm waiting because thus far, I have amazing kids. I fully realize that this is only my second year doing this, and that I'm probably doing a good deal more in terms of being a good teacher this year, but I have very few tardies, everyone is coming to class on a regular basis, and for the first major assignments of the year I'm only missing THREE from all three of my classes. Total. Compare that to last year, and pfeewww, we're talking a difference that would probably take my fingers and my toes. Seriously.

What am I doing better? I think a great deal has to do with confidence and with the fact that I feel that I don't have so much to prove. I'm still holding myself to a high standard, and my kids to even higher standards, but for some reason they seem to be buying in right off that bat, and that didn't happen immeadiately last year. I spent the better half of the first semester proving myself at this new school. Now kids know me, even if I don't know them. They know I'm not full of shit and that I'm fun. They know I'll teach them something in a way that they would have never thought about before.

I'm sure in a month or two I'll be moaning and griping here, but for now, I'll just bask in the glow of the honeymoon period, which was far over by this point last year. I'm going to enjoy it whilst it lasts, dammit.

I don't cook often (unless you count toacos, mac-n-cheese or those yummy meal-in-a-bag creations), but every once in a while I get the urge to whip up something, well, adventurous. This time the urge was prompted by the purchase of a giant eggplant at the farmer's market. The in-laws were visiting (with 2 days notice) and we were trying to come up with things to do with them since Grandma was along for the ride. Grandma is great and all, but she is 98 and has a tough time hearing and an even harder time seeing. She pretends she can still see, we all pretend she can see, but she can't see anything besides giant things like trees and the sun.

So, anyway, I get this giant eggplant. The only thing I know to make with eggplant is this rather complicated dish from Greece called Mousakas. It's not excatly complicated, there are just many things that need to be prepped/cooked prior to being assembled in the final product, which is then baked. It's about an hour of prep and then 45 minutes of cooking in the oven.

I get the potatoes fried, the eggplant softened in the oven, the meat sauce simmered, and the bechamel sauce sufficiently thick. I assemble it all together in the giant glass Pyrex dish and insert it into the oven. I fry up the remaining portions of the eggplant and throw in the bread to get crunchy.

After about 30 more minutes, I check the food to see how it is looking, and it isn't doing much. I wait another 10 minutes and check again. The oven seems cooler than when I last checked it. Hmmph. I check again in a few minutes and realize that my oven has shat out on me. The light indicating the oven is on will not illuminate, but the burners still work.

I haul out the giant glass Pyrex dish and heave it onto the counter where I stare at it for a few moments before kicking the stove and saying a naughty word. I rummage through the cupboards before finding the medium sized covered Corningware dish that will fit into the microwave because I know that the damn Pyrex won't even come close to fitting in our tiny countertop unit. I punch in 10 minutes and wait. I sit down and begin writing.

I hear the ding and get up 10 minutes later. More frustrated and slightly angry, I punch in another 5 minutes and continue writing. Now, I will surely eat the ruined meal, check out Craig's List to see what a 'new' oven will cost us, and will fall asleep wondering when the next time I cook will be.

Okay, so that last post didn't include my video - which stinks. Maybe I'll try it again later, but for now, I need to vent.

I just got out of a 2 hour long IEP meeting. An IEP is an Individual Education Plan for kids who have special learning needs - ie. Special Ed. This particular kid has some issues, not the least of which is his MOTHER. She cried throughout the meeting and basically told us in the end that she would continue to enable him by not making him come to school for 1st hour, which is when I have him. Grrrr. I could go into further detail, but honestly, it won't do me any good and it certainly won't solve the issue. I'll just use this analogy/simile:

This kid and his mom are like a dog and his owner - if I let my dog shit on the floor and don't reprimand him for it, he'll continue to do it because he doesn't know any better. Then, I send my dog to puppy school and expect the trainer to teach him everything he needs to know, which she does, but then when he gets home I still let him shit on the floor. He'll still be shitting on the floor in a year or two or three, regardless of what happens with the trainer at puppy school.

I've got a couple more analogies that work too, but I'll spare you the bitching. Seriously, teach your kids not to shit on the floor at home AND at school, thank you very much.

Check out the video I shot using my little digital camera at the Dave show - it's great until this dude walks in front of the camera at the end - ignore that part. Enjoy!

Okay, I stink at keeping up to date on my posts.

Things I've done recently:

• Had our housewarming party during the floods - our basement stayed bone dry, thank you
• Got bronchitis/pnenomia
• Went to DMB at Alpine Valley while on meds for above conditions
• Worked my ass off getting my room in order
• Developed a filing system that works for me (instead of PILES of papers on my desk)
• Planned the entire English 10 semester out - complete with calendar
• I've been experimentally teaching a team-taught class (which is going great, BTW)
• Spilled a cup of noodles all over my laptop
• Was asked to be a special guest at a swim meet because I've positively influenced one of the girls on the team
• Working on starting a video club
• Thinking ahead to Mock Trial
• Obtained THREE project pass kids (when I couldn't even get one last year)
• Pissed and moaned about not having info on special needs kids when I need it
• Had an awesome discussion in said team-taught class
• Got a sweet riding lawn mower
• Got screwed by our old landlord who bounced the deposit check they gave us, thus causing us to be $800 in the hole
• Screamed at the old landlord regarding the bounced deposit check
• Decided that we need a budget so we don't end up like the landlord and his homeschooled ditz of a wife who is now having their fifth child, which they obviously cannot afford

Okay, I now sound like a complete maniac, which may or may not be true. I just want to teach kids the best that I can, pay my bills, and enjoy my house, my husband, and our pets. Is that so much to ask?