Why Do Parents Believe Children?

Seriously.  If your 12-year-old tells you that she doesn't have homework anymore because we've had our standardized test... don't believe her.

If your son, a 6th grader, tells you that they don't send report cards home anymore, even though the sign at the front of the school says they go home on the 10th, don't believe him.

I must have had a different type of mother, because she never believed my crazy lies.  I don't believe my student's crazy tales, but their parents do.

And that's really sad.

But if I get one more voicemail or email from a parent, claiming crazy things, I am seriously going to have to restrain myself from saying something to the effect of, "Do you really think that I said that?  That, even though on the progress report, her grade was a 11%, she actually has a 95%, and it was just a mistake?  Are you that stupid?"  

Because this past progress report, the children apparently all joined in a conspiracy to lie to their parents, causing an endless stream of confusion and consternation, culminating in parents yelling about how they can't believe that we don't fix the errors in the computers before sending progress reports home.

Um, parents? 

Your child lies.  It's a phase they go through several times in their growth to adults, and apparently especially right now.  Love them, trust them, but then check everything they say, especially if it seems like it doesn't make sense.

And stop blaming me!  I promise I didn't tell your child that they don't need to pass my class to get out of 6th grade.

I actually said, "Do your work or you'll have summer school."

Believe me.  I outgrew the lying phase years ago.

Why I am Crazy...

One of students this year is a mess.  A complete and total mess.  He doesn’t want to do his work.  Not sure why… have asked him about it, have spent time sitting next to him to make sure he understand what’s going on and what he should be doing, have talked to mom, have talked to dad, have asked his friends, etc.  He just doesn’t want to do it.

My co-teacher has also attempted to work with the boy, to see if he’d respond better to a man (nope, he works better for me, and that’s a scary thought). 

He doesn’t want to do his work so much that he pretends that he is doing it so that you think he’s working.  Then, when it comes time to turn in his work, he doesn’t have anything.  Not even his name on his paper.  

Not.  Even.  His. Name.

 

He routinely pretends to not have a pencil so that, when you ask him why he hasn’t done anything since he entered the room 30 minutes ago, he can say, “Well, I don’t have a pencil!”

 

However, if you tell him that he will start writing in the next 60 seconds or he will have a lunch detention, he magically pulls a pencil from his backpack, where his mother has packed it for him. 

Sometimes he honestly doesn’t have a pencil, and I have a system for borrowing pencils, which he knows very well, but he doesn’t ask, and even when you tell him to get one, he won’t do it.  He’d much rather not have a pencil, because if he has one, he might have to actually work.

 Now, when I say that he pretends to work, I mean he has a pencil in his hand, and he moves it across his notebook, so that it looks like he is actually writing.  I mean, you can actually look at him directly, and he pauses in writing, seeming to think, then continues to move his pencil across his paper, not actually writing anything.  The only way to be sure he is actually writing is to go right next to him and look.  I have watched him actually pull out a pencil, look around to make sure no one is watching him, and snap the lead off the top of the pencil.  Then he just sits there, pretending to write.  When asked, a little while later, why there is nothing on his paper, he says, “My pencil is broken.” 

This might just be one reason I feel crazy this year.

Spring Fever - Part Two

So it's official... the kids have lost it, and taken me with them.  

Here are just some of things that occurred, just today.

-The student I call Scatted was being annoyed by the boy behind him.  This is not unusual, as 6th graders enjoy annoying the people around them, but the kid was just breathing.  Apparently (when I asked later) the kid's nose was whistling, and Scattered thought he was doing it on purpose.  

He responds by saying, at the top of his lungs:  "Dude, stop it!  Duuuuuuuuuudeeeeeee, stooooooooop it!"  (he continued in a loop for about 45 seconds, while I stared incredulously, until I couldn't take it anymore. 

-One of my girl students told me that she had to go to the bathroom to take care of 'her girl stuff.'   I gave her a pass, but she said that she wanted to take her friend with her.  I said no way, and she pitched a whining fit, while I stared at her in amazement.  I finally stopped the fit, and told her she could go to the bathroom by herself or not at all, and she said never mind and sat back down.  (I can't wait to hear from her parents, since I didn't let her go to the bathroom, so I'm torturing their child).

-Two of my boys were fighting over my pencil sharpener.  Neither of them needed it at the time. 

-A girl asked me if she could have an extra day for the homework she was just assigned.  I asked her why she would need it, since she hadn't even started it and so she couldn't know she couldn't do it.  She told me that she just didn't want to do any homework tonight.

-The kids have stopped coming back from lunch at a reasonable pace.  I think this is more to do with the fact they're becoming 7th graders, but this is really annoying.  We have split lunch, so we have 1/2 of class before lunch and 1/2 after.  When they take forever to get back we don't have time to finish anything.  Instead, they dance their way back and then all force themselves into the bathroom.  I know it has to be a fire hazard.

And finally, they just continue to ask ridiculous questions, and since it's just time for a break, I don't think it's as cute, funny, or harmless as usual.  We need rest!

Or lots and lots of chocolate.

(For me, not for the kids.  No sugar for them, please.)

Spring Fever

It's truly time for Spring Break.  

We've got awhile yet before we actually get to take a week off, but the children are finished.  They aren't doing their homework, they are texting in class (three more cell phones taken away just today), they are running in the courtyard, they are hiding in the bathroom to skip class, and one very persistent (and apparently tall) girl keeps writing in permanent marker on the ceiling of the girl's room.

In short, we need a break.

And let's not even start to talk about our standardized test, which is coming so fast I can't believe it. 

I will be a much calmer, saner teacher when we come back from our break.  We'll have finished our standardized test, so I will have time to do all the "fun" stuff I love doing but don't get to spend as much time with.

So, let's not go to school this week

Please?

Conversational Snippets

I spend a good deal of time listening to the children as they talk, either to me or amongst themselves.  I learn all sorts of things this way.  

Sometimes I learn what's in right now (have you ever heard of You*Tube, Ms. Language Arts Lady?  It's really fun!)

Sometimes I learn how much they're understanding the current lesson.  (Or not.  Did you know that setting was not the place/time where something happened, like I thought, but why someone did something?  i.e., the setting is why the boy hit his sister.  Yeah, apparently we need to do that lesson over again.)

Sometimes I hear things that simply hilarious, insane, or silly.  Here are some examples of recent conversational snippets. 

"Ms. Language Arts Lady?  May I have a band-aid?"

"Are you bleeding?"

"No."

"Then why do you need a band-aid?"

"I was bleeding.

"But you're not actually bleeding now."

"No."

"So, again, why do you need a band-aid?"
A blank stare is my answer.

"They're in the cabinet.  Top shelf."

"Do I need to turn this in?"  (asking about the classwork that I just collected from every other student in the room.)

"Well, no, you don't have to, but if you would like to get credit for it, then yes.  I can't grade it if you don't give it to me."

"So does that mean you want it?"

"Do I need to put my name on this paper?"

"No, you don't.  Only if you want me to know it was your paper, so I can give you a grade for it."

"Okay." (Then proceeds to turn it in without putting their name on it.  I give it back).

"Wait, Ms. Language Arts Lady!  You can't move on!  I haven't finished copying the notes!"

"Did you start copying the notes?  Because there's nothing on your desk."
"No!  I didn't, because I can't find my notebook!!" (Frantic digging around in his backpack ensues. )  "Someone stole it!  Someone stole my notebook!"

"Now, Scattered, I'm sure no one stole your notebook!  Who would want it?  They all have their own notebooks!"

"Well, it was on my desk and now it's gone!!!!"  (Seriously freaking out now.)

"Hey, Scattered?  Is that it, under your desk?"

He freezes, and doesn't move for 10 seconds (not sure why...).  Then he slowly leans over and looks.  "Yes, that's it!!"

*sigh*

(Overheard, two students talking)
"I got lunch detention today."

"Oh, really?  Who gave it to you?"

"Ms. Language Arts Lady.  She said I was talking during the announcements, but I wasn't."

"That sucks!  So are you going to go?"

(I join the conversation)

"Yes, he's going to go, if he doesn't want to receive a stricter consequence.  Oh, and, for the record, you were talking through the announcements.  Again."

(Both children looked quite startled, not realizing I was listening.)

"I wasn't going to not show up!" (asserts the child in trouble)

"Good to know."

 I honestly think that these little bits of their thoughts and feelings, while sometimes driving me completely insane, are what keeps me going back every day.  You just never know what will come out of their mouths next.

6th graders do say the craziest things!

Why Are you Talking To Yourself??

I have one student who is seriously unbelievable. Just completely unbelievable.

We have had 3 parent conferences, because he's failing everything.

None have worked.

He doesn't do anything. The classwork everyone else is doing, even the fun activities, the homework, TESTS, he doesn't do any of them.

But the worst of it is, he talks. Pretty constantly. This is not that unusual, of course, but what makes this child unusual is that when I moved him to the seat by my door, the one that has no one even close to it, he still talks. No one is listening, no one can even really hear him, but he still talks. I ask him if he's talking to the wall, and he says yes. (There is nothing mentally wrong with him to cause this, either).

I really think that there's something very wrong with him, to have such a deep-seated need for attention that he must continue to talk after being corrected, and even when there is no one listening.

We have referred him to the counselor, to make sure there wasn't anything going on to cause this, and nothing was discovered.

But whether or not there is something going on, in the meantime, it's very, very annoying.

I mean, who talks to a wall?

Oh, The Drama

Now, I love my students, almost all of them, and even the ones I don't love I love the idea of them, if not them as a person... Like, you cannot like everyone, but as long as you treat them fairly, it's okay.

(Wow, that was a confusing chunk of words. I guess I just mean I love the kids, but some I don't love.)

I particularly feel empathetic with the girls. If I were to chose to have one or the other as my particular student (for a group for a field trip, or something) it would likely be a girl.

Might be because I am a girl, I don't know, but I do know some of my other teachers (who are also girls) enjoy boys better, and then some male teachers who like one or the other, all for various reasons, so I guess it just depends on your personality, or your previous experiences.

But something I do not like about the girls: drama.

The boys do not go in for drama, usually. Of course you cannot just make a blanket statement, but mostly it's true. When boys fight, they hate each other, then smack each other, then they're over it, and are friends before boarding the bus in the afternoon, and hangout that night at each other's houses.

Girls do not do that. If things escalate into something so severe as a fight, it takes much, much longer, with much more drama than a mere punch or kick, to resolve.

Case in point, one of my team's best friend duos, never seen apart, always together, best buds, had a huge fight recently. Over, get this, the book one of the girls was reading.

Why did this cause a huge, painful drama? I still don't understand, but I do know they are now total enemies, who have drawn all the rest of the girls in their class onto one side or the other. They write mean notes to the other girls about each other, they call each other names, they ignore each other, etc.

They were best friends, but now they cannot even stand to look at each other, and now, instead of being far apart in the seating chart because of the possibility of them chatting, they're apart so they won't fight while I'm trying to teach.

Not all of the teachers on my team have the two together, to which I say loudly, "Not fair!"


Boys just don't do things like that.

I noticed at the theme park how calm the day was with just boys (we had five of them with us the whole day). There were no mean words (except for friendly banter), no sudden changes of allegiance, no worries about looking dumb, and most importantly, no tears.

Now, this is not to say the boys don't cry, because they do. They actually cry more than 6th grade girls, but boys don't cry over friend stuff. They just smack each other and feel better.

So while I do love talking to the girls, I am really, really tired of the drama.

In 6th grade, I guess because of puberty coming and the difference between boys and girls, the girls get down-right mean. They are mean to their parents, their best friends, their teachers, and with whomever else they have contact.

Now, because they still mostly are young and sweet, they will be mean to their friend (like, your shirt is UGLY and you're DUMB!) then cry about how they will be hated forever, and they're sad they're not friends anymore, etc.

As a teacher, I spend way too much time soothing their little conflicts. I don't mean to say they aren't worth it, and I know that it's important that I am teaching them how to interact with others.

But still, they didn't teach me this in college. They didn't mention I would be soothing tears because so-and-so called them stupid and said their shoes are too big.

No matter how many times I explain that it doesn't really matter what someone says, because it doesn't change reality (i.e., if you are dumb, then someone saying it doesn't change anything, or if you are smart, if someone says you're dumb doesn't make it so) I still have the same issues, and the same ruffled feathers to smooth.

I tired of it last year, but then I discovered this:

I love that poster. I sometimes just indicate the poster when they're obviously being silly, and not truly upset.

That poster has saved me so many words this year.

I love posters!

Seating Chart Woes, Part Two

As I have mentioned, the ideal seating chart is elusive. But it is necessary to change them around at least once per 9 weeks, or you will have a full-out mutiny. Because I was planning the field trip, I was not very quick this 9 weeks to devise a new one, as I was busy.

It makes sense, right? Making sure that we don't forget to order a ticket for one kid, making sure to get all the lunches we are required to get, etc, plus doing the regular teaching and grading duty doesn't leave much time for shuffling student desks.

But to the kids, it doesn't make sense.

I kept telling them I was not doing it because I was busy trying to make sure we could actually go on the trip. They were almost insane with excitement about going, but they did not understand how much work it was. It was just fun to them, no work involved but surviving until that day.

They ask why I don't do it at home. I explain I do have to, you know, eat, and clean various things at my house occasionally.

They stare blankly at me.

Apparently, it's a hard concept for kids to understand that their teachers do indeed have lives outside of school. Teaching is a different type of profession, sure, but it's still a job, and you still have things to do at home, just like their parents.

So I am going to do it today, barring all major interruptions, while they are working on their assignments. This is generally hard to do, because they constantly ask me questions, mostly unnecessary ones.

I will tell them if they interrupt me, I will never finish.

This might work. I can always hope, anyway.

(Probably not.)

Save Me from Theme Parks

Now, I love theme parks like most people. I love the rides, the fun, the learning experiences provided by them (some of them, at least), and the shopping!

But please, don't make me take 100 12-year-olds with me.

We recently went on a large, end-of-the-year field trip. It was lovely. But it was exhausting.

On my team, I did all the work. All of it. I made the letter to send home. I made the permission slip. I made the list of the kids going, the kids not going, the bus list, I collected the paperwork for the parents who wanted to chaperone, I made the groups, I made the free/reduced lunch list (even down to milk choices), I filled out the form, then I drove to get all of our tickets.

I seriously did almost everything.

Now that it's over, I feel a great sense of accomplishment. I managed to get 100 kids out of school, to the right place, and back to school with no losses or injuries!

I know that on my team, at least two other people would have helped me (the women, I'm sorry to say, as I have come to the conclusion that men (or at least the men on my team) stink at organizing things, and can barely do things if told exactly what to do), and one of them was very willing to help, but still, I did it all.

We did have lots of fun, I admit. We have much better behaved kids than last year, so that was a huge plus. The bus ride to and from was awesome when compared to last year. The kids just sat there, and talked quietly (or sang. Not sure what's going on, but the newest thing they like to do is sing in groups. It drives me crazy. They're supposed to be working, and they start singing.) Last year, we had yelling, kids up and walking around, eating, throwing things; just general chaos.

Riding on a bus (with air conditioning no less!) that just rode the bus was restful.

Upon arriving, the kids quickly ate their lunches, then entered the park with their chaperones and scattered. The teachers all heaved a great sigh of relief, as we managed to get there unharmed and managed to get approximately 400 6th graders away from school, off the bus, and in the park, with no damage. It amazes me how much logistical planning it takes to get the kids off of school grounds, and taking the entire 6th grade makes it even more difficult.

Then we enter the park with our group of kids, and simply enjoy the day.

I got completely soaked on the water ride.

One of the boys (we had all boys with us) dumped his lemonade all over my pants and foot.

One of the other boys showed an alarming tendency to wander off, as he didn't really want to be with us in the first place.

But otherwise it was a fun time had by all.

Fun With Analogies

There is nothing funnier than a 6th grader trying to do analogies.

Since the things are on every standardized test out there, I figure the sooner they get them, the better. It was also a nice way to spend the time after our big test calming down, while still accomplishing real work.

I told them that it was just a new way of looking at pairs of words. I told them it was like a trivia game, where they had to figure out what the words had in common. I told them that some were really tricky, while others were simple.

Right after I got through telling them all of these things, including going over the sample one below, I told them to do the 8 ones on the board. (We had to go over some of the unfamiliar words, but then I turned them loose, to do their best.)

Sample: horse : ranch :: bird : nest

Did you know that:

The answer to clothes : closet :: includes:

• hat : floor?
• dresser : drawer? (you don't put the dresser in the drawer)
• boot : shoe?

Going over the answers with them brought to light other gems, including the fact that

lifeguard : beach :: buoy : raft (I didn't understand this one)

and

even : odd :: three : four (I didn't know that three and four were opposites, did you?)

Then, to make life even funnier, I had them write their own. I learned many things throughout this lesson, and I just had to share with you the best things. I can't believe I never knew this stuff!

toilet : bathroom :: seed : plant (I asked him to explain, but I never did understand this one)

black : white :: red : blue (I didn't know that the opposite of blue was red. It may well be, actually, but you'd have to be almost an artist to know that, and the kid wasn't. He just thought (in his head) they were).

toe : foot :: hand : leg (your hand is secretly attached to your let, don't you know?)

dog : cat :: chip : dip (I said, WHAT?? She just giggled and ran away.)

I know there were more things I learned, but I can't remember them. It's a shame, since I told myself I had to remember these little nuggets of wisdom, since they would do me good to know. Hey, it might have helped me out while I was watching Jeopardy!

Oh, well. I guess knowledge is fleeting.

Do Not Lie to Your Mother!

Three times this past week I received irate messages from mothers saying, "Why did you ________ to my child? He/She didn't do that!" Each time what I did was different, and each time I had not done that to their child!

I am tired of children who lie to their mothers, and then their mothers are annoyed with me. It's not my fault!

Like a student whose cell phone I had taken. The mother called me and asked why I had unfairly confiscated her child's cell phone. Before I even tried to defend myself, I asked what their child had told them... and was told that I took it out of his backpack, for no reason, and he was just sitting there when I swooped down and took it.

I had to laugh.

I said, "Um, that's not quite what happened." Then I explained what had happened. In the first place, our school policy says that students may have cell phones if their parents are worried about their safety getting home. However, they are required to be in their backpack at all times, and off at all times. This does not mean in their pocket.

Her child had his phone out, and was playing games on it. Then, after I had told him sternly to put it away, it had rung during class. That was it; I had taken it. I turned it over to the 6th grade office, and they now had it, so if she wanted to pick it up, she was welcome to do so.

Boy, was she mad, and thankfully not at me, but at her child. I doubt he'll see that phone again for awhile, regardless of when she actually picks it up.

Another student had told her mother that I had not accepted her work, and she wasn't sure why.

Again, irate voicemail. I explained again... she was turning stuff in that was not even from this 9 weeks. Our team has a no-late work policy, but in any case, even if I had made an exception, it was from 4 months ago. I believe any excused work reason had expired.

Finally, a mom was mad because, "I picked on her daughter and had embarrassed her in front of the entire class."

Her daughter had burped in my class, while it was relatively quiet, and she had been playing up everyone for awhile before that to make everyone laugh. It was easy to tell she made it louder than it needed to be, since it was forced sounding, and not at all stifled. So I told her to leave the classroom, and I would be with her in a minute.

The mom told me it was "a natural bodily function, and you can't punish a child for that."

I explained that in my years of teaching, I had never, not even once burped while I was in the classroom. I told her that it wasn't a tiny burp, it was very loud. I explained that I always kicked the kids out when they did things like that, as I didn't want to tell them in front of the all the children that I find them rude and their behavior unacceptable. I personally would find this more embarrassing than being told this same information outside.

So she was finally satisfied with my answers, but not really with my actions.

Do I overreact to burping? I don't think so. Kids these days seem to be deteriorating in manners. I feel that as their teacher, it's part of my job to ensure that they will be able to be in polite society, and manners are a necessary part of that. If they're not getting them at home, I am hopefully helping them learn some. Plus, and this might be more accurate, they are kids. They need reminders.

Anyway, it was a long, long week.

I hope next week will be better.

Wait... next week is the TEST. And we have two parents conferences.

Oh, help.

Save Us From the Fire Alarm!

Picture this:

Every teacher and student in my entire school. Outside.


In the muddy field. The last period of the day. For 1 hour.


Because the firm alarm detected something.

Nothing the human eye or nose could detect, either. Just something.

It was hot, the kids were crazy, and as I have mentioned before, our school has to take all 1400 of our kids across the road, stopping traffic, and go through a tiny gap in the fence, to stand on the field.

This takes forever.

This time, since it was an unplanned evacuation, the kids started crossing the street before there was anyone to stop the traffic. So by the time the first teachers got there, the kids were darting across the street while the cars drove around them.

The cars didn't stop. NOT EVEN ONE stopped. They just drove through the kids.

So that was a nightmare, right there. The kids were being pushed onto the road by the thousands of kids pushing form behind, like penguins pushing each other into the water to see if the polar bears are there to eat them.

(And I'm sorry, but the adults who were still driving, you should be ashamed of yourselves! There was obviously a problem, since there were schoolkids in the road. Be adults and do the safe thing and stop! If our SRO (the school's police officer) had been there, I can promise you would have received several tickets. Use your brain!)

Anyway. They're going to work on that plan... what to do if it goes off unexpectedly.

So we stood outside for an hour. I took my kids all the way over to the track, sat them down, and told them not to move. Many teachers looked frazzled and constantly yelled at children who were attempting to escape to visit friends.

I had a good group, one that I didn't have to watch too carefully, and they mostly all stayed with me (save one notable exception, a boy who kept scooting farther and farther away, until he'd suddenly stand and make a bolt for freedom. I was a little annoyed by this around the third attempt).

They entertained themselves by sitting in a tight, little circle and singing. They sang "Kum-ba-yah," "Jingle Bells," and some ridiculous song that seemed to be about lemons that I had never heard before.

Then they played "Duck, Duck, Goose," which I doubt they had played recently.

I guess it wasn't a terrible experience, but I can assure you that period was a wasted period. We had just gotten started when the alarm went off, and then we got back and there was little time remaining, so the kids were so squirrely.

The funniest part was I was outside my classroom when the alarm went off (I was hanging up our comparison/contrast posters with my new ticky-tack) and when I went inside, the kids were completely panicked, since I wasn't there.

They knew where I was. I had explained what I was doing. I had the door propped open with a chair. I came back in every 30 seconds or so to get another one to hang up. They were working on their group projects, and they had been watching me, since they all wanted to tell me I was hanging up their poster.

Them completely freaking out demonstrates to me just how young they are.

Oh, well. I love them anyway.

(Except when I'm forced to keep them in a little group out on the track for an hour. Then I wish I didn't know any of them.)

No Stupid Questions, Part 2

Once again, I stopped to reflect on the idea of there being no stupid questions, except maybe the one you didn't ask.

If you ask me, that person just doesn't hang around with 6th graders.

Some gems I have recently heard:

"Who had the highest grade on our team?" - Why on earth would I remember that?

"Can I use my extra credit on the standardized test?" - Um... no. But thanks for thinking that my classroom stuff is so important as to affect the huge standardized test we do every year. I think.

"Does the word 'reign' mean the same as the word 'rain'?" - This was mere seconds after they had just answered (correctly, mind you) my question about the meaning of the word.

"Do I have to read this book?" - As they were signing up for their book for the project. Um, I guess you don't have to read it. But I also don't have to give you a grade for what you are not going to do.

"What did he say?" - Interrupting me to ask what another student said, who was already interrupting me to talk across the room.

"Can I have my cell phone back?" - This after one of the other student's phone rang in my class, because he had called him from my class, two rows over. Um, no, you cannot have your phone back. You'll get it eventually. When I have gotten over being mad. Eventually.

"Do I have to use a pencil?" - After I said, for the fourth or fifth time, you must use a pencil on this test.

"Am I really going to fail?" - This from a child who has not done one single homework assignment this year, and by year I mean this school year, not calendar year, and who fails every test. Um... yes. I am afraid you'll fail, unless you actually do something.

Why do they ask such ridiculous things?

Oh, well. At least they keep me on my toes.

Where are Your Parents?

Why is that I see my students wandering the streets randomly on weeknights or weekends?

There is a large shopping center relatively close to where I live, and I have noticed that entire herds of middle schoolers (and high schoolers) roam there, every weekend at least, but most weeknights, too.

So much so that they have increased security, and the police department has large presence there.

Why on earth would you allow your 11- and 12-year-old wander, unsupervised? How on earth could you justify it? It's simply not safe.

We have all seen the news, about kids snatched and not returned. Why make it easy for them, and release your child in a contained place, and make it like shooting fish in a barrel?
It really disappoints me.

I mean, I was shopping the other day, and I felt like a movie star as I was walking around with my friends, hearing my name shrieked in excitement, followed by kids chasing me down and hugging me.

On the one hand, it was nice they wanted to see me that badly. On the other, I ask, always without fail, where is your mother?

Oh, she's at home.

Oh, I say. What is there to say to that?

Remember, parents, just because your kid says, "But all the other kids are doing it!" doesn't make it true.

And even if it is true, you don't have to listen. Keep your child safe!

Or go with them. It'll keep them safe, even if they don't like it.

Keep your kids at home!

Why Do They Lie?

We have been slammed recently on our team (and I think our whole school) with parent conferences, since report cards have gone home recently, and since this time, there was a little letter attached explaining the retention/promotion policy, so parents became aware of just how serious those Fs in math, language arts, social studies, and science truly are.

Something we have noticed about our kids in these conferences is that they lie. They will stare you in the face and lie to their parents and to you. Then, they will look ashamed and sob.

Why do they do that? They know we are right there listening to them and we will bust them. For example, one student told his mother that he always does his homework in class, every day, so that's why he doesn't ever have homework.

Now, this is not true. In all of the classes on my team, we simply do not do homework in class, because we're busy doing classwork. It is a very, very rare occasion that allows them to even start their homework in class, let alone finish it. In my class, we perhaps begin homework in class once a month.

So of course, all of his teachers explained that this was not true, and he just doesn't ever do his homework, showing her the print out of his grades, which show he hasn't done any homework this 9 weeks.

Why would they do that? It incenses their parent, who is sitting right there, having to listen to people telling them their child isn't doing what they are supposed to. They are already annoyed, then to be confronted by their child lying? It embarrasses them, and makes for embarrassing scenes for us, the teachers, as the parent struggles with their anger and frustration at their child, and as the kid sobs.

Then, why do they lie when you sat and watched them do something? For instance, one of my troublemaking boys has recently been getting in quite a bit of trouble with all of his teachers.

His parents have been up to the school multiple times, the teachers call home weekly, we write notes in his planner every day, and more, but he still is struggling with his behavior.

He was sitting in class after he finished a test, and he was supposed to be reading his book. Instead, he had pulled out a toy and was playing with it.

In my class.

In the front row, during a test (so I am watching to make sure no one is talking or cheating), seconds after I had told him to read his book.

Then, after I took it away, he argued with me for 15 minutes about it. I finally tired of it, and told him to go and sit down, so he sat and pouted for the rest of class. After class, he came over to try to sweet talk me, to try to get it back.

I told him that he would have to have a good couple of days in a row to earn it back, which is my normal policy. Most kids are aware of their item in my possession, hanging over their head, and they get it back quickly.

Instead of accepting this and leaving, he starts to argue. Again.

He tells me that he was, "Just taking it out of my pocket to put something else away."

Now, I know this is a lie, since I watched him pull it out and play with it for awhile. I told him this, and how I had watched him play with it, and he said, "No, I was putting something away!"

I told him that he needed to leave now (since class was over and my other kids were trying to come in, but were hovering confusedly in the doorway, not sure if they could come in or not).

He starts shrieking about how it is his and he wasn't doing anything and it wasn't fair.

I was finished.

I wasn't going to sit and be yelled at by a child who had flat out lied to me about a dumb toy that shouldn't have been at school in the first place.

Later, at his parent conference, I told his parents about the incident, and his dad told me to just throw the toy away.

I love when parents are supportive. It makes me feel better about the struggles I have with their kids.

But I still don't understand why the kids lie to me. Or to their parents.

Why?

Little Details

It's the little things that make up a whole day. Each little minute going by, moving into the next minute, adding up to a whole period, a whole day, a whole week.

Some of the the little minutes I have had in my classroom recently:

-One of the kids was answering a question about what a female seahorse does with her eggs. She wrote, "She takes her eggs and gives them to her husband to hold for about 2 weeks. Once they are ready, he lets them go back to his wife."

-One of my boys decided that the mouse's name was too difficult and started calling her "Sally." Now his whole class period calls her Sally.

-Upon receiving an A on a test, one of my girls came over to ask me if it was a mistake. She was serious! (How heartbreaking is that? She says she has never gotten an A in language arts. I told her I was so proud!)

-The boys trying, for the 9th time, to make it in the trash can in a game of improvised basketball. Me, asking them to stop, also for the 9th time, starting to sound irritated.

-The computer completely and totally crashing as I was trying to show the kids something on the Internet. Leaving them to stare at me, startled, then gleefully begin talking.

-Me forgetting to tune into the morning announcements for two days in a row. (It's not like it's not every morning, at the same time, or anything.)

-Letting the children go 20 minutes early for lunch because I was so very confused about the time, what day it was, what period it was, and having them brought back by my 6th grade administrator. (Whoops).

-My student assistant staring at me like I am insane as I teach. (I really don't like this. It feels a little strange, her staring at me the whole time. Doesn't she have homework??)

-Having a child have a complete breakdown in the media center, complete with screaming, crying, and stomping feet. (By screaming, I mean, SCREAMING, not just yelling). He wasn't allowed to check out a book, since he forgot his ID that day. (The look on the media clerk's face was pretty funny, though. She wasn't expecting that from a 12-year-old.)

-One of my students asks for his grade every day. Rain or shine. Even when he just saw his grade online, before he left home. That morning. When nothing could have possibly changed.

Right now, it's a tiresome time for teachers. After the holiday break, we have the push to the standardized tests. The clock is ticking, the kids are feeling it and are squirrely, and the teachers are desperately trying to get it all in.

So, I am glad for the little moments right now... it keeps me from focusing on the bigger picture and going crazy!

(By the way, if anyone is interested in hearing more about anything in particular, feel free to leave it in my comments section, and I'll see if I can accommodate you... Thanks!)

How to Name a Mouse

Now, I have always had a hard time naming pets. It would take me forever, and it would get changed so many times, I wasn't allowed to tell my mother more than once per day what the newest name was.

When it came time to name the mouse, I had the same problem. I didn't want to name her something dumb, but something fun. Nothing overused, or simple, or snooty. I wanted her name to be perfect!

This wasn't easy, of course. I had the mouse for all of 10 minutes or so when the first student encountered me holding the mouse, and they immediately wanted to know her name. I responded, "Mouse."

Sadly, I was afraid that was as good as it would get.

The kids were just full of suggestions, some of them so hilarious I just have to share... here are all the ones I remember.

• Snowpuff (it was almost Christmas and she's white) - I thought it sounded like a rabbit.


• Snowball (same as above)


• Noelle - since it was a, quoting them, "Christmas miracle mouse"


• Chrissy - short for Christmas


• Rackety (name of a mouse in a book)


• Isabella - still confused on this one


• Bob - Bob is my standard example name, so they said it should be Bob even though she's a girl.


• Lucky - since I saved her from a snake


• Red-eye - because she has them, apparently.


• Silver Bell - after the song, I think it was supposed to be.


• Miracle - because she was a miracle mouse


• Snack - since she was supposed to be a snake-snack


• Ms. Language Arts Lady, Jr. - They wanted to name it after me, but just add a junior. Then they tried initials...


• Jeff - ?

I then told them I wanted to name her after a book, or a character in a book. They responded with:

• Lucy (which was clever, since she's in a book we're reading together)


• Bloodhook (apparently a pirate?)


• Naruto - a character from a TV show, but I guess that's close to a book


• Harry Potter - I am not even kidding. Not even Hermione. Just Harry Potter. Both names.

After a week of being called simply mouse, I tired of it, and knew I had to find a name. However, I really just didn't like any of the names that were suggested. She finally was christened with her name, though, and not from a book, sadly.

Her name is Souris, which is pronounced mostly like "Surrey," but with a French accent.

I suddenly remembered the French classes I had taken throughout high school and college.

It was perfect!

(It means 'mouse' in French)

I knew it was the best I could do.

Class Pet

Right before the break, my classroom got a new pet.

I think this is a sign that I am completely insane, but just haven't realized it yet.

The science teacher on my team has a great many animals in his room... turtles, mice, scorpions, snakes, a tarantula, plus many others that are mounted and preserved. The kids love his class, since he is such an awesome teacher, plus there is always something interesting to look at while they're in his class.

Well, somehow or other, I decided I wanted a classroom pet. I figured it would be fun, and could be used as a reward for the children, teach responsibility, and so forth, and since there is nothing more helpful than a 6th grader, I wouldn't have to worry about feeding, cleaning, or really doing anything other than playing with the pet.

My first thought was a cat. I love cats, but can't have one at home, so I figured, hey, this would work!

It wouldn't work, though, because of allergies.

So then I decided that a hamster would be nice. But I had never really given it serious thought, just a sort of idle speculation on how much fun it would be to have something.

Then I noticed the science teacher never really had to clean his own cages... his students fought over the chance to do it.

Then I was chatting with him about what would become of his mice, since he was talking about how he had a female mouse who was pregnant, and he said he keep one or two as classroom pets, and the rest would become snake food. He said he never would feed pet mice to the snakes, but he would make sure no one got attached to most of the mice, which would be helped by having some mice they were allowed to make into a pet.

I said that was a great idea, and wanted a baby mouse when she had some.

He told me I could have first pick, and I set about getting ready for a baby mouse.

Since mice have a pretty short gestation period, I knew I would need a home for my new baby mouse pretty quickly. I received a free, used (and pretty dirty, ew) wire cage, and got some students to clean it up. It was ready for my new mouse.

But no babies.

And no babies.

Still no babies.

I originally decided I wanted one right after school started. But nothing was happening on the baby-mouse front. The science teacher was perplexed, and decided eventually there was something wrong with either the male or the female. He planned to put a new mouse in the cage and see what happened.

Meanwhile, I have a cage sitting in my classroom, taking up space. Every single day, some student would ask me if I had the mouse yet. Every day. This was enough to drive even the sanest of people insane.

I eventually just started answering, "Yes, I did get the mouse. Can't you see it? There in the bottom?"

This caused all students to stare at the cage, desperately trying to see the mouse.

I just shake my head.

On the Wednesday right before school got out for the holiday break, we had a parent conference which ended a little early (A MIRACLE! They almost never end early. They usually end after the bell has rung and the children are screaming the hallways, pounding on the doors to be let in.) The science teacher had to feed his snakes, quickly, since he didn't want to be doing with all the kids in the room, as they get all wound up, and since it was almost break time, they already are all wound up.

So he brought out his cage full of 20 or so mice, and his student helpers (7th graders that we had last year) come to help with the feeding. I said, "Can I have one of these?" and he said, "Sure. Just pick it out, quickly, so we can get feeding."

It's almost hard to pick just one mouse out of a bunch, knowing I'm saving one, and the rest will be eaten.

They were all identical white mice, though, so I grabbed the smallest and picked it.

Another mouse was saved, a male, to be put in the breeding cage.

So I had my mouse! She was a tiny thing (I say she, because I decided she was female, but I have a sneaking suspicion now she's male, and will show her to the science teacher when I get back to confirm...) and I had to now get her set up in her new home.

The bell was going to be ringing in less than 10 minutes.

I had no bedding, or food, or anything but a cage.

She really was adorable, though, and didn't bite me, not even once. (She still has only bitten one person, my co-teacher, and she has bitten him twice. I think his hands must have had something on them...)

Then the bell rings. I still have nothing for the mouse, but I couldn't do anything about it now.

I go and stand at my door, like I'm supposed to do, with my mouse.

Several students do not notice the mouse, since she is tiny.

Once they did, however, kids everywhere yelling about the mouse. I let everyone look but not touch. She is just a baby, after all, and hasn't really ever been held. (She was less than a month old, apparently).

The science teacher across from me offered me an aquarium for the mouse to live in, but I said I had a cage, but would let her know if I needed it.

Well, long story short, I put her in a coffee canister that had been holding rulers, which worked for awhile during my first class... until she discovered she could jump.

Then I had her moved to a box that paper had come in... until she discovered it had a slit in the side she could climb.

I put the lid to block her, but she eventually discovered the other side, which had an identical slit, which I discovered as she was running across my classroom floor.

By this time I had bedding from the science teacher, and I put some in the cage I had. She was so tiny at the bottom, and the wire openings look a little large to me... so using a bit of cookie, I lured her over to the side, where the wire had the largest opening, and she just went out, like it was a door.

Oops... my cage wasn't going to work.

I got the aquarium, put food and bedding in for her, and a wheel I scavenged from the wire cage.

Now, each new class that came in swarmed the new cage, since it was in the front of the room, and since they had heard I had finally gotten a new pet.

They didn't realize that I would be at the door, holding the mouse, as the searched the cage, looking for her.

I would tell them, "Well, look really hard. She's really small."

I really am a mean person sometimes.

I can't wait to get back to school and get the mouse all settled in, and see how it goes...

I will have to get a picture of her and post it, so you can see how cute she is... but she has already grown quite a bit. I can tell you about the naming drama. (Ms. Language Arts Lady, let's call her HAROLD! Plus all the other crazy things they wanted. It was pretty funny).

Right now, she's staying with my parents, since I can't have pets where I live (let me tell you, my parents are thrilled. They were happy to have had their last rodent a long time ago, back when I myself was in middle school, or thereabouts.)

So we'll have to see how that all turns out. My mother is spoiling her. She claims the mouse doesn't like the food I bought for her, so she gives her cookies, cheese, apples, pretzels.

Mostly cheese, though.

The mouse is going to hate going back to school, since I will feed her the stuff she doesn't like, and maybe cheese once in a blue moon.

Oh, well. The children will sympathize.

Please, No More Sugar

The kids were feisty today. I had to assign two of them to a lunch detention. I personally hate lunch detentions, because it means that I have to give up my kid-free lunch to do it. My team eats together every day, and when we have kids we have to meet in a different room, which isn't as comfortable.

But today, we had 4 kids total serving detention. The kids really are finished for the year. They don't care about grammar, they don't care about the story we're reading, they don't care about anything... not even the candy I was trying to use to bribe them. They just want to talk to their friends and eat things they're not supposed to be eating in school (which I would give them to eat, if they'd just do what they were supposed to be doing).

One of the kids that I had serving today was a girl who is constantly late to my class. She has lost privileges, she has written essays, she has had a "lunch delay," which means she gets to sit with me for 5 minutes of her lunch, but it just doesn't sink in. I warned her the last time that she was tardy she'd owe me a detention next time, but apparently she thought I wasn't serious.

The funniest part is most mornings since I warned her, I would see her in the hallway dawdling with her friends by the water fountain, and I would call down the hallway to her and tell her to get a move on. But this morning I just watched her mosey to my door. She came and almost went in, but then the call of her friends were just too much, and she headed back to the water fountain, where she was standing when the bell rang. I told her to sign in, and that I'd be seeing her today for a lunch detention.

"WHAT?!" she shrieked. I reminded her we don't yell indoors, and not to "what" me. (I sound like my mother when I say that, and I hate it, but I hate it more when a kid says, "what?" when I call their name. No wonder it drove my mother insane.)

I told her that I had been watching her messing around in the hallway, and that I just knew she was going to be late.

"Why didn't you tell me then?!" she asks.

"Because I shouldn't have to tell you. It's not my job to tell you every morning that you need to be in class. The bell does that. I just observe whether or not you are, in fact, here on time."

"But you have for weeks been telling me!"

"You're right, but you're a big girl now, and you know what a bell means. When the bell rings, you know you have five whole minutes to get to class. Now, stop arguing, and sit down. I'll be expecting you at lunch today."

She grumbled, but she's not a bad kid, just one to push to see where the boundaries are.

My other kid who had to serve today was a boy who is a little mouthy sometimes, and this gets him in trouble pretty consistently. Today the kids were talking while they were taking a test, and I was not amused by this. I had to correct them a couple of times, then got tired of that and told the ones talking to bring me their planner so I could record their misbehavior (something we do on my team, which is a good deterrent usually for misbehavior).

He yelled back at the top of his voice, "I don't have my planner today, so I guess you can't have it!"

This irritated me.

The kids are all required to have their planners every single day. If they don't, they're not allowed to use the bathroom, go anywhere for any reason, and many other things. Since it's their homework tracker, they're supposed to have it to record what they have to do that evening. So for him not to have it, that's strike one. Then for him to yell during a test that he left it at home, so I couldn't record this negative behavior?

Not a good choice. I told him he had a lunch detention, and instantly, the other kids were all very studiously doing exactly what they were supposed to be doing.

He also argued, but I didn't even engage... just told him that unless he'd like to escalate it to an after school detention, he would do what he has supposed to have been doing this whole time.

Mercifully, he gave in. He can be a real problem, as he loves to argue, and is a little ham who sees how the kids are watching him, so he can't back down. Today, the kids were all ignoring him, since they have finally started to notice that he drags them down with him when he's mouthing off and gets them involved.

When it was time for their lunch detention, the boy showed up right on time, took his place on the floor, and didn't make a sound the entire time. Good job, boy.

The girl? She didn't show up. And she didn't show up. And she wasn't there.

Finally, she shows up, 10 minutes after lunch starts. This may not sound like much, but lunch is 23 minutes long. She missed 1/2 of her entire lunch detention.

I told her that she has just earned herself a lunch delay tomorrow, and have a seat on the floor.

Why are they so feisty?!

I long for the time after the holidays. Yes, it's a stressful time because of the standardized testing that is coming, but I love the kids so much more when I come back. It's my favorite time of the year... I am fresh off of a break, but I know the kids now. Starting school is stressful, since you've got to teach the children who you are and what's expected. Coming back from a break just takes a little reminder.

I need this break, and I think they need it from me.

Plus, it's just enough time to miss them and want to come back.

Thank goodness the holidays are almost here!

The Joy of Halloween

Well, I survived another Halloween, but still have yet to survive the week following Halloween, when the kids come to school sugared up beyond all sense, and fights over the candy that they brought to school (even knowing they're not supposed to bring it) abound.

Ah... the joys of Halloween!

I did have fun with them today, though. Since I knew they'd be all crazy, just because they were anticipating tonight, I decided to take a break from the normal classroom activities and share with them my favorite Edgar Allan Poe story, "The Black Cat."

This freaked them out, as I had intended.

If you've never read the story, it's about a man who loved animals and had a black cat he especially loved. He became an alcoholic, however, and he began being mean to his animals and his wife. In a drunken rage, he put the cat's eye out with a knife. He felt mildly guilty about harming the cat, but continued declining, eventually hanging the cat from a tree to kill him.

He then wanted another cat, since he missed the one he killed. He found one that looked almost exactly the same, but with a white spot on his chest.

He brought it home, and thought he'd love it, but he began to hate it, even as his now-abused-by-him wife loved it. The white spot also began to change into the shape of a gallows (I had to pause to explain many parts of the story to the kids, but they didn't know what a gallows was, until one remembered they had one in Pirates of the Caribbean 2).

So now he really hates the cat. He was going down the stairs to his cellar one day, and his wife was following, when the cat tripped him, making him furious. He seized and axe and attempted to strike the cat, but his wife stopped him. In his rage at being stopped, he turned the axe on his wife, killing her.

He then decides to dispose of the body (after several options are discarded) by bricking it up in the cellar. When the police investigate, the man is so confident, he shows them around, and when they're trying to leave, he tells them about how strong the building is, and raps on the wall in which he put his wife's body... well, he accidentally put the cat in with her, so the cat makes an eerie cry, and the man is caught.

Very Halloween-y.

I love watching their faces as they struggle to understand the almost archaic text, since they know it's creepy, and they know they should be scared, but sometimes the wording gets a little too tricky... Then when they go from not understanding to dawning comprehension, then revulsion... so priceless.

And everyone should read a classic author like Poe, right?

I worried vaguely about this being too creepy for them, but then I remember what they watch. I remember it's a classic. And I remember what they told me last year (and honestly, what I remember from my time in school) that they read Poe's "The Tell-Tale Heart" in the third grade. So I know they'll be fine. (I remember from my own 3rd grade year, and how the teacher read it, while a tape with a beating heart pounded in the background... it scared the mud out of me).

So we had fun. Plus, one of my kids was super-sweet, though, and brought me a caramel apple he'd made just for me. I was like... oohhhhhh! So sweet! I haven't eaten it yet, because I keep forgetting it's there, but I'm sure it's tasty.

Oh, and by the way... why do the students complain about having to come to school on Halloween? They actually ask me why they have to be at school... when I'm confused, they explain, "Well, it's a holiday, right?"

Heaven help us.