Last week I mentioned that I have one more Christmas present to complete. As of Sunday afternoon:
It's more than halfway knit, but then I have some finishing to do. Fingers crossed I finish it in time.
(Our celebration got pushed to Christmas Eve, so I've got even less time. Sigh.)
I'll explain once I have finished pictures. No need to guess what this is. I'll reveal all next week. Now, I'd best get back to knitting. Time's a-wasting.
Sometimes teachers will leave their cell phone numbers for us subs just in case. I try not to use it as I don't want to bother them, but sometimes...
The first class of the day had a quiz. I told them to put their notebooks away. And they vehemently objected, stating that they were allowed to use notes. So, I texted Ms. S to ask, and sure enough, notes were allowed.
Friday. Integrated math 2 (read: sophomore math) honors (read: taken by freshmen), sixth period.
They had a quiz. It went well. While they had the whole period for the quiz, most had finished it with forty-five minutes left in class. (Block schedules give us loooong periods.)
For the remainder of class, they were to study for their final which was the next week. (It'll be over by the time you read this. Their final was this past Tuesday.)
"How many questions do you think will be on our final?"
A girl asked this of a friend, then another, and then another. She realized she was taking data, so she got out a dry erase board and started listing guesses. She went around the room asking everybody.
And I just couldn't resist...
I'm sure the final is already set. But it was fun to mess with them.
In case you can't see the image...
Me: Student is polling the class on how many questions they think will be on the final.
Ms. S: "liked" the text with "ha ha"
Ms. S: What do they think?
Me: 50 to 60, but with guesses as high as 200 and as low as 35.
Ms. S: Wow, tell them that 50 to 60 just seems like a lot, but if that's what they want, we can do it.
Ms. S: Also tell them Monday at lunch they can do a retake of the simplifying radical expressions if they want.
Me: Now they're guessing 24/25.
Ms. S: ::laughing with tears emoji::
(For those of you relatively new here, in November 2021, while we were back in school but under Covid restrictions, I caught a long-term assignment for a class whose teacher suddenly retired--because she refused to get vaccinated--at a school for 18-22-year-olds who are very special ed. Here's a link to my "atc" tag where I've collected all the posts from my experiences there.)
Since it's been a while, I saw many new faces as many of the students I'd been with had finished or "culminated". Or were in other classes. I had one of the instructional aides from Ms. S's class. And Pizza. (Leanne was also in the class, but she was absent this day. Her mother had passed away the previous week.)
It turned out to be CBI day. That stands for community based instruction, but what it means is we go off campus so the students can practice doing things in the community. Specifically, ordering lunch and paying for it.
There were eight students and four staff (including me).
We headed out to the mall. We caught the city bus. We walked the mall (it was busier than normal because December, but it wasn't crazy busy). We had lunch in the food court. (Unsurprisingly, Pizza went to Sbarro for pizza.) They all got to choose what they wanted from the various vendors.
As we headed out to catch the bus to get back to the school, we stopped in Macy's to kill some time. (We headed out a little early to get Starbucks, but those lines were shorter than expected.) We headed upstairs on the escalator as Pizza needed a restroom.
As we took over the escalator, Ms. D commented that we were a mob. I replied, "Yes, but we're a polite mob". Because they were. Very polite. Letting others go first. Waiting in line. Doing what one should in public.
I mean, that's the point of these trips, after all.
It's good to get back there from time to time. Of course, this was the easier class. And it was good to get off campus.
(It was really good for me as I needed to pick up a Christmas gift, and we went right by the place I had planned to hit after work that day. Suddenly, I didn't need to make an extra trip on my way home. Hooray!)
Monday, third period. I was in the learning center.
The learning center is a room for special ed kiddos to come and take tests. Some special ed students need an alternate location for that. It's also a room with fewer distractions, and some students can use the room on days when they need that.
So, basically, I wasn't expecting to have any students. (Some days the room is empty. Some days there'll be several students in there.)
The phone rang. Mr. R asked if the student he had sent to the room had arrived to take a test. The student had not.
So, I was surprised when this student arrived a few minutes later.
He explained that he had been in the learning center earlier. He had finished his test.
I was confused. Had he taken the test the previous period? Because, he had not been in the room during third period.
When I got to the room during the passing period, it was locked. The room was empty. I had been alone for a while. There had been no other student there, so this boy claiming he had been there...
I mean, I can think up instances of him being in the room and me not seeing him. Perhaps he found a learning center in an alternate dimension. Maybe he figured out a way to turn invisible. But, actual real world scenarios? Nope. He was not there.
The boy asked if I could call Mr. R and tell him he'd arrived, so I did. But as he had not been in the room when he was supposed to have been, he was still in trouble. Mr. R asked me to send him to a different room to see a counselor, so I sent him on his way.
(He returned a short time later, saying that the counselor said he couldn't stay. I let him and wrote it all down for the teacher I was covering. If he was lying, he's in worse trouble now. If not, well, Mr. R is kind of a jerk, so there was no point in making him angrier.)
I was just so flummoxed by how certain this kiddo was that he'd been in the learning center that period. I tried to find out where the kiddo had actually been. But what I wasn't considering was the obvious: he was lying.
Because, really, that's what this was. A lie. Where had he been? He wasn't telling. And he was going to keep repeating the lie that he had completed his test in the learning center. (Kind of have to admire him for picking a story and sticking to it.)
What if? It's the basis of many stories. We ask. We ponder. We wonder.
On Tuesdays I throw one out there. What if? It may be speculative. It may stem from something I see. It may be something I pull from the news.
Make of it what you will. If a for instance is not specified, interpret that instance as you wish. And if the idea turns into a story, I'd appreciate a thank you in the acknowledgements 😉
This past weekend stories surfaced with the idea of privatizing the post office. Which got me thinking. Why would anyone think this is a good idea? What is with this idea of running things, like a service that is written into the Constitution, like a "business"? Why is running things like a business a good idea?
(When has maximizing profits ever helped the consumer? Think about how hard it is to get any sort of customer service for any corporation. They do this on purpose.)
But none of these are in the vein of "what if?" So...
What if you could no longer get things delivered to your home? (If you could, it would be very, very expensive.)
This week:
I'm rather proud of this progress. And while I would have liked to complete more than three, three is what SIL is getting for Christmas as I have to get this in the mail today if I want it to arrive before the holiday.
Nothing like a deadline to get me focused.
These are fun to do. (The pattern for Autonomy is here if you're tempted to try it. It is a very easy knit. I recommend it.)
Next up, another Christmas knit, but for someone local, so I have until the 25th to finish it. Wish me luck.
The kiddos had an assignment on culture. It was a project that they had had a couple weeks to work on. It was due, but eighth graders. Ms. R knew most of them had not finished it, so she was giving them one last period to get it done.
Those students who actually had done what they were supposed to do got the period to get a jump start on an assignment that wasn't going to be due until January.
Jesse informed me he had "short term memory". No, I don't know what that means. To him, it meant that the fact that he got so easily distracted that he got practically no work done was justified by some amorphous brain issue.
He suffers from being an eighth grader.
Jesse asked if his friend could sit next to him. The co-teacher pointed out that the two of them were holding a conversation just fine from where they were sitting. (They were.) And they continued to do so, even though I repeatedly asked Jesse how his assignment was coming along.
The girl between Jesse and his friend wasn't getting much done either. Mostly because she was contributing to the conversation. She was attempting to write something about being a tuba player. I gave her a couple ideas. She didn't think they worked. (Fine. I was just trying to get her working.)
Considering that the end of the semester is a couple weeks away, you'd think they'd be more on top of their work. Nope. They spent a lot of time looking at their grades. And being unhappy with their grades. I did point out the obvious, but at that age, they'll talk something to death before attempting to do anything.
At the end of the period I went to collect their projects. A few had finished. Jesse and his group? Nope. I pointed out the last day to turn in late work (as if they hadn't turned in the work, it was now late) was the following Wednesday.
I wonder how many of them will get the assignment in by then.
