Projects

Sometimes I really dislike doing projects.

The kids did a really nice job this year with the projects. I got some amazing things, that showed the really thought about it, worked, and then were able to explain why they did what they did.

We got cakes, chicken dishes, salads, muffins, cupcakes, and more food items. We got a stage for the actresses one of the kids made out of dolls, a castle, a prairie type wagon.

But the problem with these projects is that the never, ever get taken home.

EVER.

The projects were presented about three weeks ago. Most of the items are here.

I really wish they'd take their stuff home.

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.

6th Graders Need Help

Okay, I know 6th graders are really very young. They are still children, only 12 years old, at the oldest, and some are even 10 turning 11!

But sometimes they are just so dumb!

Not always the bad kind... generally just the tiresome kind. (Honestly, this is also the funny kind, so it works out).

For example, the kids were working through a practice magazine, and we were focusing on compare/contrast and cause and effect.

For the 3rd item on their To-Do List, they needed to come and get a handout from me, and then complete one side for step 3 and the other for step 4. I handed the paper to them, but the second side was face up. They then return to their seats.

Most of the kids figured it out, and flipped the paper over. Most of them. But some, my advanced kids especially, came back up and handed me the paper and told me I gave them the wrong one.

I just shake my head at them. The other kids are quick to explain, most of the time, but sometimes they just stand there staring at me, until I can't take it and I laugh at them.

I tease them, and tell them they are very silly. They always laugh with me, understanding they are silly.

I love them, I really do, but sometimes it's just too much what causes them to have difficulty managing. I mean, should you really have to tell a 6th grader to turn their paper over?

Another thing that gets me is why they think I don't know it's them talking when they are supposed to be working silently.

It's not that hard to tell it's a particular student. It sounds like them, first thing. Since no one else is talking, it's pretty easy to figure out the part of the room the sound is coming from, and then narrow it down to the child who's leaning over their desk in a sneaky manner.

Add to that I placed all of my sneakiest kids within easy sight (and sound) of my desk, and I know exactly who it is, and generally exactly what they're saying.

So then, when they tell me, "Oh, but it wasn't me who was talking, Ms. Language Arts Lady! I would never talk when I should be working!!" I feel irritated. This type of dumb is the bad kind.

Then, when I had caught one of my students talking, and he told me he was talking because he was almost finished, and therefore had time, I ask to see his work.

He had written almost nothing, and it was so messy he might as well have been writing in a foreign language. Actually, it might have been better, because then I could have plugged it into an online translator, and gotten sense out of it.

Add to the horrible handwriting the fact he didn't add the quotation marks as he was supposed to do (he just copied random sentences).

He hasn't even gotten to handout, and when I asked to see his handout, he said, very belligerently, "What's a handout?"

Again, irritating.

So, while 6th graders are so much fun, and funny, and great to be around, sometimes their silliness, which is a large part of their amusement, can be very irritating.

What do you mean, "What's a handout?" You have been doing handouts in school since Kindergarten.

Comments like that really test the patience of teachers.

Mouse Drama

Why does having one teeny, tiny mouse in a classroom create tons of drama?

She's very small (though also strangely fat, considering we do not feed her any snacks, only mouse food).

She's inconspicious, since she generally sleeps through the entire school day.

She's very, very quiet. I almost never hear anything from her, except on the rare occasion her wheel squeaks, or when I hold her, sometimes you hear a little squeak.

But if she dares to get up, the kids go crazy.

"Ms. Language Arts Lady! Ms. Language Arts Lady! The mouse is AWAKE! She's eating her food, Ms. Language Arts Lady! She's DRINKING! Oh, my gosh she's so cuuuuuuute!"

This, while really, really funny, is very distracting.

I am going to have to get a cover for her cage, because when they're already a little silly, the sight of any part of her makes them crazy.

Oh, well. I am planning on making them write journal entries and poems based on her.

Maybe then they'll just ignore her when she appears.

And it really is my own fault, since I chose to have her here... but she's still lots of fun to have around the kids. They are so funny with her.

Plus, she's a calming influence on some of them.

But mostly it's just because it's fun to have a classroom pet.

Seating Chart Woes

The perfect seating chart is elusive. It's hard to find the ideal spot for each kid, because some kids need to be in front, because of seeing difficulties. Then there the kids who have IEPs, which stands for Individual Education Plans (for various learning disabilities or differences), and it requires that they receive "preferential seating," which basically means that they need to be up front. I even have some kids with hearing issues, so they need to be pretty close, too.

But mostly, it's hard to do because you must separate all friends, as far apart as possible, as well as everyone who might someday become friends, usually due to a badly designed seating chart.

People who only remember school as a student might think that this is mean, since that is how they always took seating charts themselves, but teachers understand perfectly the art of making a good seating chart.

Actually, anyone in a classroom trying to get 30 kids to do something will immediately understand this phenomenon. It really is absolutely amazing how different your class can be if you have a bad seating chart versus a good seating chart.

Quite a bit of time is spent by teachers trying to get their students to stop talking to their neighbors and pay attention, or do their work, or copy the notes. This time can be almost (not quite, because they still are kids, and they can't be perfect, nor do I even want them to be) eliminated if you manage to find that perfect arrangement of desks and kids.

Of course, even the best seating chart doesn't last forever. You finally figure out all sets of friends in your class, and design the chart carefully around that, remembering to completely surrounding the extreme talkers with "pockets of silence," or kids who will not talk to anyone except their own friends (who are, blessedly, in another of my classes, or better yet, another team), or kids who are very shy, or kids who are enemies, or kids who are respectful and won't talk inappropriately.

You remember that child A hates child B, but their hate is volatile, and apt to go off in class unexpectedly.

You remember that the 1st 9 weeks, you had child F and child I next to each other, and they passed notes, even though they never actually talked, before or since the chart was changed.

But still. It doesn't last forever, since kids are resilient. They make new friends. So, after the entire 9 weeks, most kids have become comfortable, and are back at the talking game, so it's time to spice things up again and move them around, so they're not quite as comfortable, and they'll get back to the task at hand (learning), instead of what they have recently begun doing (socializing).

So every single 9 weeks they get new seats. They begin whining about 3 weeks before the grading period is over, saying they want new seats now, and they are tired of sitting here; whine, whine. Students who had no trouble days ago suddenly cannot see the board, the front of the classroom, or even you standing there, trying to get their attention.

"But Ms. Language Arts Lady! I left my glasses at home, so I didn't seeeeeee the homework written on the board!" (To which I respond, "Well, since I told you to write it in your planner as I was assigning it, and I have reminded you every day this week it was due, you didn't need to see it." They have no response to that.)

Finally, I spend the hours that it takes and redo the chart, which I then immediately implement, because the dumb things took me so long to do.

The second I say, "Pick up all your stuff and stand by the door," the whining begins again, but this time, they love their current seats, and they don't want to change, please, please, they'll be good, they promise.

12-year-olds are so tiresome sometimes!

I get them all seated in their new seats, amidst groans, moans, and eye-rolls, and finally get them settled.

They glance around, seeing how far away their friends are from their currently location. They figure out how far away from my desk they are, and then from where I generally stand to teach, and from the door. They realize (and announce at the top of their lungs) that I have arranged them boy-girl-boy. They remember (after remind them) they were boy-girl-boy (or maybe girl-boy-girl).

They analyze the kids on either side, searching for allies.

They glance nervously at me, since I am giving them all warning glances.

Honestly, I do enjoying moving them, because I can generally count on at least 1 full week of blessed silence, or at least quiet. It's really amazing. They have to get comfortable again before they'll start their chatting.

Or maybe it's just they use up all their noise in one burst when I move them, in complaint and general grumbling.

Maybe I should move them every week.

Maybe not.

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.

Test Anxiety?

As a teacher, I understand the importance of tests in school. I really, really do. We need the children to be able to show us what they know, since in life, it doesn't really matter what your potential is to your boss... he just cares if you can produce.

And I also get the whole idea of alternative forms of assessment, since I know students sometimes do have issues with the actual testing part, so if you can observe them to give them their grade, it works for those students.

But sometimes, you simply must just give a regular, pencil-and-paper test.

AND I HATE IT.

Not only do the children whine like I have taken all hope, fun, and candy out of the universe, after they do the test, I get, as a reward for being a good teacher who is preparing her students for their whole lives, a huge stack of tests that I get to grade.

Giving a test is an immediate night, or weekend, killer for me. Even if I feverishly work on it as soon as I get home, I usually cannot finish it in only one night. The best part about teaching language arts is that the children all write lots of things on their test, which I have to read and fix, and sometimes translate into English, since it's in some insane-looking children-babble.

So the very next day, the kids all pounce on me and want to know what they got on the test. My response is usually something along the lines of, "I don't know! And even if I did grade your test, do you honestly think that I remember your grade? Unless you usually fail and you did really well, or you usually fail but did well, I don't tend to even look at the names as I grade, so stop bothering me!"

Of course, it depends on how grouchy I was before they came at me. If I am in a cheerful mood, and I didn't stay up late to work on the dumb tests, I respond with, "Do you really think I remember just your test?" or, "You got an F!" (This is my typical answer if the kids ever ask what their grade is.

So right before the Thanksgiving break, I very naively gave the students a large essay test, summing up the first portion of the novel we're currently reading in literature circles, so that I could grade them over my break. I must have forgotten that it is almost impossible to do work during a break, especially one that contains a holiday, since I am required to appear at family events, and assist there.

The test took them the entire block, which usually doesn't happen with my tests. Most students, when they finally turned in the test, handed me 3 pages painstakingly written, and then badly stapled. (Why is it, incidentally, that kids cannot use a stapler properly? They just shove it under the stapler and smash, not caring if the papers are lined up, facing the right way, or whatever. It really irritates me, since it means their papers won't stack nicely, but have bits sticking out all over...)

I now have a HUGE stack of essays to read, worry over, and grade.

I'm sorry, but I get really involved in the children's tests. I know I shouldn't get that involved, but I do. Many teachers have told me, some of them repeatedly, how you cannot fix every error in the children's stuff, and I know it's true, but if you don't show them how it's wrong, how will they learn? I don't fix every single error, but the glaring ones need attention. It really hurts when a kid I am worried about does badly (like my little darling girl, who I will call Heartbreaker, since her situation breaks my heart, as she's going through more than a kid should have to, plus she is sweet), and I wonder if it's because of something I did.

Also, like a fool, I had a project due that same week, so I also have those I'm supposed to be grading. Grrrr.

So, during my break, in a fit of energy, I started to grade the lovely essays. I then remember I do not have the questions with me, so I am not quite sure of the wording of the questions. Drat.

I finally get the questions and sit down at my dining room table to grade the papers. The very first one I start grading as this as the first answer:

"Well, the children's attitude was not good, but it wasn't bad either."

I stopped right there, and went back to preparing for the holiday.

I gave another test this week, so I now have a project, a essay test, and a spelling/vocabulary test to grade. Thankfully, I graded the tests today as they turned them in, so I am going to be able to get those out to them quickly, and just start slogging through the other ones.

I know many teachers who have given up giving any tests they are not multiple choice or true-false, since they're so much work. I see what they mean, but still can't bring myself to do it. I do have some tests that are multiple choice, but they need practice writing, and thinking, and taking those thoughts and putting them into a brief paragraph.

I think test anxiety not only affects the children, but also the teacher. Just mention to any teacher having an essay test, and then tell them they will be grading it, and there will be the anxiety.

Well, at least the kids seem to be doing well on the vocabulary test. Thank goodness for small favors!

6th Graders are Adorable

Kids are cute. It's almost a proven fact. People make lots of money selling books that contain what they say, and they also include pictures of the cute things they do.

Sometimes, kids try to be cute, and fail miserably. Things they think are cute tend to be very not cute. It's the things they say without thinking, the things that show you that they have incomplete information but still use it to form opinions, ideas, and even facts that are the cute ones.

(Of course, some things are annoying. Like when you have just done something you wished you hadn't, and they ask you why, or what you're doing. Or when, in all innocence, they ask if you're okay, because you "have a rash on your face" when you're just having a poor skin week.)

But still... they are very, very cute.


Here are some of my favorite things I have heard recently.

• One of my students was telling me all about a book he was reading, which had an archipelago that contains dragons. He pronounced it: Arc uh pull AHHHH gooo. He said it so seriously, I almost laughed at him, but instead managed to hold myself together enough to answer him, then correct his pronunciation. (But him saying "goo" at the end almost killed me.)
• One of my students saw me in the grocery store, and she asked me, "You shop at the grocery store?" as if it was the craziest thing she'd ever heard of. I asked her how she thought I got food to eat, and she said she always thought the school fed us.
• One whole group of kids (when asking why they couldn't have their tests back) were horrified when I told them I didn't have a chance to grade them over the weekend, since I had a birthday party to go to, then I went to an amusement park. They said things like, "YOU go to PARTIES?" and " But what do you do there?" as if I am too old to enjoy an amusement park.
• One of the cutest things (and embarrassing for the kids) that they do is call me Mommy, or Mom, or their version of the word. They are so embarrassed about it, and I can't blame them. I just say, "Yes, dear?" and ignore it, or say, "I'm Ms. Language Arts Lady, remember?" to try to keep them from complete embarrassment.
• Some of my little angels are starting to become little vandals, starting the trend they continue throughout school. Writing on their desks, the bathroom stalls, etc, it drives teachers (and janitors) crazy. The best part about most 6th grade vandals is that (and this is the cute part) they are simply too foolish not to put their name on their artwork. My student, Trouble (you may remember him) drew all over one of my desks, then proudly signed his name. He then had the nerve to ask how I knew it was him. He just stood there blinking, holding the wipes he was going to use to clean my desks, and was stunned to realize I had read his work. It was hilarious.
• Kids arguing about politics. They sounded like they knew what they were talking about, but then they'd say something just slightly off... but they were quite impassioned.
• When they don't want to close their book when we're reading a story and it's at a good part when we need to stop.
• Playing the spelling game "Sparkle." It's hilarious to watch, and now that we've played it, it's hilarious to hear them beg to play it again. You essentially just all spell out a word out loud, but each kid says only one letter then the word 'sparkle.' It's so cute to hear them starting to confuse themselves with the word sparkle, and it starts to be speckle, Spackle, sprinkle, and so on. SO cute.

Anyway. Kids are really cute. I know there are some things I'm not remembering, but I'll have to write those later. I just can't think...

Hooray for the cute kids!

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.