See Sars Teach

A compliment?

noreply@blogger.com (Miss N) — Tue, 24 Feb 2009 03:52:00 +0000

Today, my students told me that my drawing (as demonstrated by an abstract map of Europe in the 1930s that I drew on the white board, since our classroom lacks maps and/or globes) is better than my singing (as demonstrated by my rendition of Danzig's "Mother").

Well, those students who could identify the song that I was singing said that. The rest stared blankly.

Some looked like they were in pain.

I'm pretty much famous.

noreply@blogger.com (Miss N) — Fri, 30 Jan 2009 23:08:00 +0000

Four of us from the credential program are presenting at a conference! To adults! About how we teach! And they're, like, going to listen to us and maybe use our ideas!

Go to the link and then scroll down to Session D. There's my name! It's for real!

(Audible Gasp)

noreply@blogger.com (Miss N) — Fri, 30 Jan 2009 05:23:00 +0000

Just under $5.00.

That's approximately how much I earn per hour this school year.

If you're going by the contract language, teachers at my district work 183 days a year, 6.5 hours each day. According to these numbers, I (and most other 2nd year-teachers) would earn $38.44/hour (I'll let you do the math on my annual salary...and I work in a relatively very high paying district).

If you're going by reality, I (and most of the other teachers I've met) work about 60 hours per week (that includes weekends) during the 183-day school year. This is how I earn less than $5.00 per hour. This does not count the significant amount of time I spend working over winter & spring break, as well as during summer. Take that reality into account, and it's probably closer to $4.00 each hour.

Excerpts

noreply@blogger.com (Miss N) — Fri, 16 Jan 2009 20:32:00 +0000

An excerpt from the latest board policy updates regarding employee use of technology that the principal emailed to all of us teachers:

Employees shall not develop any classroom or work-related web sites, blogs, forums,
or similar online communications representing the district or using district equipment
or resources without permission of the Superintendent or designee. Such sites shall be
subject to rules and guidelines established for district online publishing activities
including, but not limited to, copyright laws, privacy rights, and prohibitions against
obscene, libelous, and slanderous content. Because of the unfiltered nature of blogs,
any such site shall include a disclaimer that the district is not responsible for the
content of the messages. The district retains the right to delete material on any such
online communications.

And

An employee shall not use a cellular phone or other mobile communications device for
personal business while on duty, except in emergency situations and/or during scheduled
work breaks. Any employee that uses a cell phone or mobile communications device in violation of law, Board policy, or administrative regulation shall be subject to discipline and may be referred to law enforcement officials as appropriate.

Of course, this set off a firestorm of reply-to-all emails from disgruntled teachers pointing out the hypocrisy of having an admin that focuses intently on using technology in the classroom and making oruselves available outside of the classroom. I can see both sides of the story. I understand that the district has to protect itself from litigation-happy families. Yes, we should not be putting copyrighted (la la la...) or pornographic material on our school-related websites. And yes, we should be role models in the classroom and therefore should not be using our cell phones while we're teaching. Most other jobs restrict employees from using their cell phones while at work. It's common sense, if you're an adult.

And I guess that's what bothered me (and, maybe, most other teachers) about this email and the board policy itself. We are adults. We know not to text while we're in the middle of a lesson. We are fully aware by now that it's not a good idea to put kiddie porn on our classroom website. Many of us quit our jobs and went deeply into debt so that we could engage in rigorous credentialing programs so we could become teachers, so we get it. Do you really have to threaten law enforcement action to get your point accross? If individual teachers are violating either rule, can't we just be adults and address the issue on an individual basis?

But the longer I teach the less I surprised I get at how rarely we are treated like competent adults. For instance, it's January and some of the classrooms on campus have just barely gotten the heat turned on. The AC still turns on in my classroom sporadically, even when it's 40 degrees outside. Each classroom has thermostats with little control-levers that hint at better days, days when teachers could be trusted to regulate the temperature in the room in which they spend over 8 hours a day. But the district has the idea that it's wasteful to let teachers regulate their own room temperature. We can't be trusted to do this effectively. So instead, we open up our doors and windows to get the AC to turn the eff off...even though it's only 50 degrees outside. When we can't take it anymore, we email the secretary who emails maintenance who eventually comes to our room and proclaims that everything is working fine, who then emails the district, and so on. It's a joke how inefficient and wasteful the district's policy is.

When it comes down to it, sometimes it feels like we have more responsibility than the parents of our students. If there is an emergency on campus and our kids are in danger, we're legally responsible for maintaning their well being. At our school we actually have gigantic buckets in each classroom so that if an emergency keeps our classes in lockdown for a significant period of time, the students can use the gigantic bucket as a toilet. If a kid is getting beaten or neglected at home and we don't do something about it, we're legally responsible if that kid ends up dying or attempting suicide or something else along those lines. And then there are the mundane, daily responsibilities. We provide our kids with band-aids and kleenex and ridiculous amounts of hand sanitizer. We often feed them when they don't bring lunch. We get to school early and we go home late and we work through our lunches and we hold our pee. Can't we, for once, be spared the "reminders" of these asinine board policies?

Once a Runner*

noreply@blogger.com (Miss N) — Tue, 30 Dec 2008 23:09:00 +0000

This year I'm celebrating New Year's, normally my least favorite holiday of the year, by doing two of my most favorite things - hanging out with the Whitaker brothers (always an interesting endeavor, to say the very least), going to Monterey (always delicious) and running in a race in Carmel on New Year's day.

I used to run quite a bit...I even considered myself a runner, at least until I entered the credential program at Davis and my life as I knew it was not only flipped upside down but then put into a blender and pureed into a melange that really looked and tasted nothing like I remembered. I stayed away from running for that year, and the year after it, mostly because the small amount of "free" time I had was dedicated to, well, sleeping and staring off blankly...but also because running reminded me of a time when I was more in control of my life, and frankly that year of the credential program and that first year of teaching resembled anything but control.

This year one of the other teachers in the social science department decided to train for the Davis Stampede 1/2 marathon, and I decided to tag along, and he decided to invite students and other teachers, and now there is a pretty sizable group of teachers and students who are planning to run the race in February...and now I find myself actually on the verge of considering myself a runner again. It's a vicious, yet welcome cycle that I hope will stay around longer than it did last time. I find myself reading anything I can get my hands on about running, and even started an actual training log/notebook that I'm using to plan my runs (gasp!) and track how I'm feeling, injuries, etc.

I'm slow, Jesus tap-dancing Christ I'm slow. But I feel great, better than I've felt since I started the credential program, and I'm having fun. There's something about doing something difficult physically that's so rewarding, and I never realized this feeling until I became a teacher and spent most of my time thinking and grading and planning and just dealing with stuff.

It's grand.

*Title of this post stolen from the book that originally got me really into running back in 2004, Once a Runner, by John L. Parker.

A Shrine for My T.A.

noreply@blogger.com (Miss N) — Tue, 30 Dec 2008 19:53:00 +0000

I love my T.A.

Having just returned to the cultural mecca that is(n't) Pleasant Hill, I've finally sat down to do some actual work - grading, mostly, that has been piling up for weeks. So I'm sitting here, going through my mostly organized stack of papers almost as tall as my laptop with the screen open...and my T.A. already graded most of them for me, before break...without me even telling her to do so. For the assignments that she can grade, she goes and finds my keys (assuming I've made one beforehand...tra la la), grades the papers (almost always perfectly), puts them back in order, and will even enter them into Aeries (assuming I've already added the assignment...). Without me ever telling her to do this...she just does it.

And what's interesting is that she's not doing well in her actual classes. She even had to re-take econ this year, and has had to take several summer school classes. But she is intelligent and hard-working and proactive and I adore her. I think she'll be fine once she graduates. I know she'll be fine.

Break Part Deux

noreply@blogger.com (Miss N) — Sat, 27 Dec 2008 17:27:00 +0000

It's the second break of the school year and the second time that I've posted this school year.

And what a grand break it's been so far. I brought a pile of grading, a few textbooks and a couple of binders for the upcoming chapters to my parents' house...and haven't touched any of them. Instead I've read 2 Tony Hillerman books (my latest fiction guilty pleasure), leveled my World of Warcraft rogue up to 50, ran a total of 30 miles, and drank the equivalent of 1 gallon of spiced cider. I even think that when N fixes the X-Box, I may make my Rock Band hard-level drums debut (on no-fail mode of course).

It's been marvelous. I love my job, but I LOVE having extended vacations again. Having the year hunked up into periods of intense work broken up by intense laziness is amazing. Eighteen years of school will do that to a person.

Break!

noreply@blogger.com (Miss N) — Thu, 27 Nov 2008 01:26:00 +0000

I'm on Thanksgiving vacation.

The last time I posted was towards the end of summer vacation. In fact, the last time I did much of anything beside teach/drive/sleep/eat (sometimes) was towards the end of summer vacation. A combination of situations have combined forces to coalesce into what has become one of the busiest years yet. Being a 2nd year teacher is easier in some respects - it's certainly not as scary as last year, prolly because of the perspective and other BTSA-esque things that I've gained since last year. However, the expectations have certainly increased. It's almost like people expect me to know what I'm doing now that I managed to "survive" the first year. Um, about that...

My students this year seem like they have more issues than my students last year. This could be because I'm teaching 4 periods of sophomores, or it could be because this particular crop of students has managed to get themselves into a plethora of ridiculous situations. So far two of my sophomores have gotten suspended so many times since the beginning of the year (one has a penchant for stealing iPods and then getting caught selling them, the other thought it would be a great idea to tell the campus police officer that he had no business telling him not to watch a fight that was in progress and then hit the officer...this after being suspended 3 times for cutting in the lunch line, cussing out another teacher...in the final report he claimed that he was "tired of being singled out by teachers and administrators). Two are pregnant...that I know of. Each period has a group of students whose parents are going through what seem to be horrendous divorces. And it's an IEP extravaganza this year: one period has 12 IEPs, while the others have no less than 7 IEPs each. My one period of juniors are grand, though. They're 1st period (U.S. history), and because the AP U.S. history class also runs 1st period and the majority of the AP students are female, my class has 22 guys and 9 girls. It was a trying dynamic at the beginning of the year, but now that the guys are (mostly) done competing for the girls, it's settled down into an entertaining, pleasant, relatively motivated class. The problem is that I'm ignorant about U.S. history pre-Cold War era. Didn't even take a U.S. history class in college...managed to AP test out of it, and the only thing I remember from the AP class in high school is, wait, NOTHING.

But so far I love it. Aaron Burr was a real asshole. And whenever I see Gary Beausy on Celebrity Rehab I can't help but to think of John C. Calhoun and his lustrous locks.

It's 7:00 am...

noreply@blogger.com (Miss N) — Tue, 19 Aug 2008 19:10:00 +0000

...and the AC in my classroom just came on.

Since this is Fairfield, the wind is already gusting outside of my classroom. And it's not blowing warm air, which could almost justify having the AC on at 7:00 am. No, it's only about 60 degrees outside.

Apparently, ancient buildings combined with a Stalin-esque district that doesn't think teachers are capable of maintaining the temperature of their own classrooms have combined forces. The district controls the temperature of all the classrooms in my building, and to make it less work for them they have the thermostats on a timer. Until November, the AC will come on at 7:00 am and will turn off at 3:30 pm, no matter the temperature. From November to February we get heat (theoretically). And then again from February until June, it's AC all effing day long.

But I can't blame the district for never adjusting the thermostat schedule because it actually doesn't even matter. Each classroom's vents are broken in their own special way. For instance, while my classroom has an overactive AC, my classroom's vents don't have any heat. So, when the district turns on the heat, we get the cold air from outside blowing in the classroom. The classrooms behind and next to mine, however, don't have a functioning AC. So when the AC is on, they get the nice warm air from outside. In winter, their classrooms are almost unbearably hot.

So when I had my students start keeping coats in my classroom last September, I thought that maybe I should email the district and ask if they could adjust the thermostat, seeing as how having students wear coats in class when it's a beautiful 70 degrees outside is just a little bit of a waste. After a month, the district sent maintenance to my classroom. He accessed the building's thermostat and checked the temperature to which the building was set, walked into my classroom and told me that he didn't know what I was talking about since the building was set to be 69 degrees. After two months of trying to explain that maybe it's not the thermostat but something with the room, I was told that they figured out that the vents to my room were broken, but wouldn't be fixed. Too expensive to fix them. So I kept the windows open and the doors opening, hoping that some of the cold classroom air would escape and allow the comfortable outside air to enter, which was quickly followed by an all-staff email from admin reminding teachers to keep the classroom doors and windows closed, so that the AC wasn't wasted.

It's ok, I'm prepared this year. I added a sentence to my syllabi telling students to bring warm clothes to class, and have purchased myself a fancy little space heater. But what a waste, eh? It seems ludicrous to waste all of this money and resources on AC for this building, while N's building doesn't even have an AC system and won't install one, as it will take millions of dollars to do so. So while his students are melting in a 98 degree classroom next month, mine will be piling on the layers and gathering by the space heater. And yet this waste continues, year after year after year. I just don't think this would fly in the private sector. Hell, even when I worked for the state temperature issues were always handled efficiently. People would flat out refuse to work if the room got too warm or too cold for their taste.

Not to say that's the way to go, it would just be nice to be considered professional and mature enough to control the temperature of my own classroom.

Sigh...

noreply@blogger.com (Miss N) — Wed, 13 Aug 2008 00:54:00 +0000

One of N's students died last night while (allegedly) racing his dad's corvette in Castro Valley.

I don't really know how to approach it. No wait, I do. The kid was an idiot. It's a sad situation - I am sad for his family, for the girl's family, for N. I've been lucky enough that so far, in my short years of being a teacher, none of my students have died. They've had problems with parents and drugs and significant others and friends and school and everything else imaginable (and unimaginable), sure, but so far none have died.

This kid died while doing something that all of us know is completely idiotic (racing another car while in his dad's corvette in the middle of the night on a windy road while trying to impress a 17-year-old female passenger who also died in the accident). He - an 18-year-old, graduated from high school and thus (allegedly) fully armed with the basic arsenal of skills required to survive in the real world - decided to lie to his dad about what he was going to do with dad's corvette (unless the dad knew he would be racing the corvette, which would open up a whole new set of issues). He decided to take invite another girl with him (not to mention that the girl also made the decision to drive around with him). He decided - while driving a car that did not belong to him, with another person in the car - to race another car along a windy road in the middle of the night.

I'm not saying that I never did (or still don't do) anything that dumb. I remember one night after I first got my really hot 1989 CRX letting Roger and Jason see how fast they could make it go down highway 50, with me in the back non-seat (really a small ledge, sans seatbelt) covering my eyes because I couldn't stand the sound the engine made when they pushed it up past what I was sure was its breaking point of 90 mph. Did I go along with it? Hell yes. Did I voice my concerns? Of course not. I was a dumb 17 year old.

It is a very sad situation, and the community will respond as such - laws will be made enacting even tougher punishments for street racing. PSAs will be aired about the dangers of driving too fast. The district will probably have several assemblies to raise awareness about street racing. Will it stop teens from driving like asshats? Probably, for a couple of months. But soon the awareness will be replaced by other awarenesses (like graduating, or not graduating, or prom, or experimenting with drugs or really getting into drugs, or divorcing parents, or parents who are asshat drivers themselves, etc.) and this will happen yet again.

So It Begins

noreply@blogger.com (Miss N) — Wed, 13 Aug 2008 00:27:00 +0000

Yesterday, I finally dared to step foot on campus and inside of my classroom with the sole purpose of setting up. Technically, school doesn't begin until next Thursday; however, with my new role as Class of 2012 co-advisor and my new status as sole occupant of room E-1, I figured I should start "early" and organize the hell out of my classroom. I've put in a good seven hours so far, but keep on getting side-tracked by the other fun people who are also daring to step foot on campus this week. And, I'm not going to lie...I still rush home to put in a good hour or two of questing. Grew tired with the gnome mage and started a human warlock...she rocks the party that rocks the party.

But man alive, it's hard to get back into school mode while living with N and A. N now has a level 41 dwarf hunter. Besides, he basically thrives on not planning. Back in the credential program, N, M and I worked together to create an interthematic unit for one of our classes. M and I spent hours on our laptops, typing up the lesson plans and the curriculum units and finding primary sources and making the stupid poster for our presentation; N winged the presentation, and it was so good that our advisors claimed it was one of the best projects. Needless to say, N does not stoke my anal retentive overly-planned fire. And now that A is a certifiable doctor and is looking at a part-time entry-level job paying him more than I'll probably top off at in twelve years, he doesn't feel a real impetus to work, either. And I can't blame him.

Old Habits

noreply@blogger.com (Miss N) — Sat, 26 Jul 2008 05:13:00 +0000

This has been a summer of extremes. I've worked every summer since my freshman year of high school, and the work (assistant ballet teacher, assistant manager at the Folsom hotspot Book Warehouse, student assistant for the state, fiscal and policy assistant for the state, cash register assistant at Fleet Feet) never left much room for extremes. I worked a bit, traveled a bit, slept in a bit, ran a bit, stayed out late a bit (okay not so much), read a bit, played dorky computer games a bit.

But I'm taking full advantage of being a teacher this summer, by which I mean NOT being a teacher. Since we got back from Italy, my extreme-du-month has been laziness. Said laziness has taken the form of two old habits that went by the wayside over the past few years: reading Stephen King books and playing World of Warcraft. I've finished all of the Dark Tower series (I had left off at the 4th book), and have created a level 22 gnome warlock. It's wonderful and my days revolve around quests, minions, mutants and constant death, it seems. Even the small amount of curriculum planning has taken on a decidedly morbid tone, as I'm currently crafting a lesson that centers around the Donner Party for American history and forms of torture throughout French history for world history.

In a moment of rationality I tried to bring myself back from the edge by signing up for a 1/2 marathon training program at the Fleet Feet in Pleasant Hill. It's 10:30 pm and the first workout is tomorrow at 8:00 am...but I am so close to getting my warlock's succubus...

Listmania

noreply@blogger.com (Miss N) — Sun, 06 Jul 2008 14:28:00 +0000

So yes, we are back. I fully intended to post at least something while we were in Italy or, at the very least, right when I got back, but we didn't really have much in the way of internet access in Italy and since we returned I've still been mentally on vacation. Which, apparently, doesn't include communication with the outside world. Who knew?

So, instead of doing a day-by-day rundown of the trip (I only enjoy torturing my five readers so much), I've decided to do one of the few things I do best: make lists. Very low-level Bloom's taxonomy lists, enhanced with my awesome (by which I mean not awesome at all) photography skills. All the pictures are also posted here.

The Good - Where We Stayed

The agriturismo ("family-run farm house that triples as a vineyard and a quasi-bed and breakfast") where we stayed. The only people there were N, A and I, a couple from Missouri, and another three people from Virginia Beach, all of whom were interesting and nice and fun and wonderful. I don't know if it was pity or genuine liking or a combination of both, but they didn't shun us, even when N and A slipped into their homosexual incest joke repertoire. In fact, they showered us with gifts, including delicious salads, appetizers, and bottles of lemoncello. Two dogs and two cats also lived at the farm, which added like 10 billion awesomeness points by default. Plus, it had a bidet.

The quasi-tour company through which N's mom very kindly booked the vacation. They arranged the flights, accommodations, rental car and an orientation, and then offered several optional tour-y things (lunches, walks, etc.) that you could either do or not do. Very low key and I can't imagine visiting Italy for the first time without them.
Not having constant, reliable, and/or speedy internet access. I finished two books, several magazines, stared vacantly out the window and played Mad Libs. I haven't been that mentally productive since my family got AOL.
The place was amazing. Surrounded by vineyards and meadows and horses and rolling hills and unpaved roads and other natural pleasantries. The nearest towns (Montalcino and Buonconvento) were only accessible through a half-hour grueling up-hill walk or a ten-minute drive. The walk was beautiful but entailed fighting with the region's bugs which, unfettered by pesticides and other such chemicals, manage to grow to at least three times their democracy-loving American comrades. The drive was quick and terrifying. Italian drivers take tail-gating and passing to new levels.

Not So Much A Post For The Guys

noreply@blogger.com (Miss N) — Sun, 15 Jun 2008 13:43:00 +0000

The last week of school coincided with the first week of my first period sans-birth control in many moons (due to health insurance - rather, a lack thereof - issues). Neither was a very pretty sight.

It just so happened that the worst day was the very last day of school. Friday we had our finals for third and fourth periods;luckily, I only had to give one for fourth period. I felt like absolute ass - headache, barfy-ness, exhausted but unable to fall asleep while waiting for fourth period to start. It was miserable.

Fourth period began and I was giving my pre-test shpeal ("well, you can use a pen on a scantron exam but it prolly won't help your grade," "no you can't use the book", all that good stuff). All of a sudden I knew that I was going to have to throw up and no, it couldn't wait until they had begun the test and M could watch them. So, mid-shpeal, I ran out of the classroom and to the staff bathroom, barfed, and then ran back to the classroom (in which I had just left 27 sophomores unguarded with the final and the answer sheet on my desk - they're a good class, though, and nothing was taken...I don't even think they noticed it was on my desk).

Of course, they all wanted the gorey details, so I confessed that yes indeed I had just barfed at school. They seemed to think it was immensely cool; I was embarassed and told them so, to which my one autistic student in that period replied:

Student M: "Miss N do you want me to share an awkward fact about myself so that you don't feel as embarassed?"

Me: "Um, sure!"

Student M: "I used to have seizures at night!"

What warmed my heart more than what he said was the class's reaction - they oohed and aahed and the girls commented about how cute it was that he said that. They went from a class of sophomores in which I've had to write three actual detentions for students repeatedly calling things "gay" or "homo" to, for that day at least, one in which the students respected not only their teacher but each other. It was a beautiful way to end the year, and I kept it in mind as I pulled over on the side of a busy Fairfield street to throw up yet again on my way home an hour later.

Really?

noreply@blogger.com (Miss N) — Fri, 06 Jun 2008 02:44:00 +0000

One of my essay questions on my final was along the lines of "What should Miss N do differently next year? What should stay the same?"

The most answer to the first question: "Be more strict!" (and they're right on the money with that; I had to learn the hard way but it will pay off next year).

The next most common answer to the same question: "Don't be so anal about enforcing the tardy policy!"

The funny thing is that the above two statements are in no way contradictory to them. Ah, the brilliant logic of teenagers.

Fantastic Voyage

noreply@blogger.com (Miss N) — Mon, 02 Jun 2008 21:42:00 +0000

I may or may not know someone who may or may not be trekking across the border next week to pick up some prescription drugs for two someones who find themselves unexpectedly sans health insurance.

These someones may or may not have relied on their UC Davis health insurance to cover them over summer (instead of signing up for their district's relatively expensive Kaiser plan), so that they could save a few hundred bucks over their first year of teaching. These someones also just finished their MA program about a week ago. Apparently, UC Davis health insurance dropped these someones the VERY SAME DAY that they turned in their final thesis. Apparently, they are the exception to the otherwise-awesome practice that UC Davis has of covering (most) students during the summer after their graduation.

The someone who is going on said trek across the border was mentioning it to another co-worker in the faculty lounge today. This co-worker said that teachers from a neighboring district routinely organize trips down to Mexico to pick up prescription drugs. This is one of the growing number of CA districts that does not provide benefits to its employees (they get paid a little bit more in return).

I find it awesomely interesting that the first time these someones find themselves in jobs that require them to serve as moral upstanding examples to hundreds of impressionable young American freedom-loving minds each year coincides with the time that they decide they need to obtain drugs quasi-legally across the border.

500

noreply@blogger.com (Miss N) — Mon, 02 Jun 2008 21:38:00 +0000

Since Chet went out of commission, my daily commute is anywhere between 80 and 100 miles, depending on the amount of errands I need to (rather, have energy to) run and the number of trips I need to take to the BART station. This comes out to about 475 miles per week, not including weekends. Several calculations later, I arrive at the approximate amount I spent on gas each day last week: $14. Add the $4 toll that gets paid for me to enter the cultural bastion that is the tri-metropolitan area of Vacaville, Fairfield and Suisun City and my daily commute comes close to $20. Multiply that by 180 (approximate number of school days next year) and you get $3,600...or, just over 10% of my annual take-home income.

We are moving over summer, possibly to Pleasant Hill, in search for cheaper rent, a BART station nearby, and possibly an additional roommate. This will decrease my commute to right around 70 or 75 miles. But my cynical guess is that the increasing gas prices will quickly offset any money saved as a result of that.

Anyway, what this boils down to is the following:

I want a scooter. Preferably pink. Or celeste green.

History is so Hot

noreply@blogger.com (Miss N) — Thu, 29 May 2008 19:28:00 +0000

M and I made a new course blog, go thither.

What would Chuck Norris do?

noreply@blogger.com (Miss N) — Wed, 28 May 2008 15:29:00 +0000

Last week (nine days from the final and twelve days from the end of the school year), a new student showed up on my attendance sheet.

Today (five days from the final and eight days from the end of the school year) she finally showed up...with fifteen minutes left in class. Her transfer grade from her last high school? An F. No word on how high (or low) of an F. What was she studying in world history when she left her last night school?

She doesn't remember.

Gung-Ho

noreply@blogger.com (Miss N) — Thu, 22 May 2008 19:53:00 +0000

Next year I am:

Safety Committee Representative (good thing I have my own foil helmet);
Secretarial Assistant Extraordinaire to M, the new Activities Director;
Freshman Class Co-Adviser;
Starting and running the world history RTI ("Response to Intervention" - an extra enrichment class for students who are struggling) program;
Teaching US history for the first time;
Making it my mission to revise the hell out of the current world history curriculum and the master schedule so the school can offer a 9th grade social science class.

M is:

the school's new Activities Director (which counts for at least 10 bullet points on its own);
coaching softball;
taking on 3 periods of seniors;
most likely doing a thousand other things cause she's that hard core.

N is:

teaching geography for the first time;
one of two brand new Link Crew advisers;
advising the break dancing club;
advising the skateboarding club;
advising the Improv club.

Eventual Humor

noreply@blogger.com (Miss N) — Thu, 22 May 2008 16:29:00 +0000

Ten days of school left, and five students thought it was a great idea to smoke opium, on campus, right before first period. All five got caught and suspended for five days. At least one of them is a senior, one of my seniors. He has a D in my class and I don't know if he'll be able to graduate anymore, since he will be missing most of the in-class review for the final. Another is one of my sophomores. She has a 31 percent in my class. She has had a 31 percent in my class (plus or minus a couple, depending on whether it's a good week or a bad week) all semester. She has also had 29 EXCUSED absences and 26 unexscused absences. I think it can go without saying that all of my phone calls to her home have gone unanswered.

While researching my students' assertive discipline files (an awesome part of our grading/attendance program that lists when and why our students get detentions, Saturday Schools, suspensions, etc.) to see how many of my students were involved in the above incident, I noticed that 83 percent of my 6th period seniors received truancy letters last week; about half of these are THIRD truancy letters. The percentage was only slightly better for my 3rd period seniors.

I don't even know what to say about either of these findings. It's all been said before, by people far more eloquent than I.

However, I did come across this gem of an entry in one of my other sophomore's assertive discipline files:

"Detention: pantsing himself."

We're All Feeling It

noreply@blogger.com (Miss N) — Thu, 15 May 2008 21:59:00 +0000

I think you can directly measure the proximity of the last day of school by the awesome randomness of the extra credit you offer. Case in point: last week's "Make Your Own Foil Hat Day", in honor of Reagan's Strategic Defense Initiative.

Car Show Hey Oh

noreply@blogger.com (Miss N) — Wed, 14 May 2008 14:16:00 +0000

Last week, the school held a car show. Students and staff could entered. I entered Chet.

I feel badly for the student next to whom I parked Chet; my car made his car look so bad, especially when I lifted my car's hood so everyone could admire my engine block and other such car parts.

Actually, no I don't. He's one of my seniors; he's very very bright and just as lazy. Well, maybe not lazy, seeing how much work he put into his car.

Chet is so hot right now!

The dirt encrusted on my car's engine actually increases its horse power.

Next year I'll ghost-ride the whip.

Yes, one of my students is doing jazz hands for Chet. Wouldn't you?

Oddly enough, that very same day Chet crapped out on the way home from work. I don't know if I'm getting him repaired, having already put more money into keeping him running than I originally paid to acquire him.

Not So Proud

noreply@blogger.com (Miss N) — Tue, 29 Apr 2008 13:11:00 +0000

How bad is it that I called a student "Walking Birth Control"? To his face...?

I felt badly until I overheard him bragging that I was the second teacher this year to refer to him as such.

Proud of Myself

noreply@blogger.com (Miss N) — Mon, 28 Apr 2008 23:27:00 +0000

M and I have decided to try group seating in the classroom that we share. Students met the idea with mixed, if not negative, results. Lots of complaints, lots of "But I CAN'T sit next to her!", lots of "What are you trying to DO to us?!". So, we implemented some incentives. Below is the handout I created to 'splain them tomorrow.

I'm so excited.