I actually made some progress this week. That's what happens when I'm no longer having to lesson plan and grade. And my subbing gigs aren't too taxing.
In case you'd like to see the progress. October 6th:
October 13th:
October 20th:
So, progress. I'm hoping this week will be like last and I can knit more during the week rather than just on the weekend. We'll see.
How are your projects coming along?
Sweater Tracking:
Friday had been a minimum day (end of the first quarter). Ms. S and I checked out at the same time, and we were outside, chatting. (Ms. S is another sub who I see around all the time and I've worked with her before.)
We both had a last period prep, so school wasn't quite over. Students were standing outside waiting for rides. (Some students get out early.) We were comparing notes on various assignments. It turned out that the next week we'd be subbing for two co-teachers.
As we were talking, a mother walked past us. She looked so familiar to me. She nodded as she passed, but we didn't say anything to her, just continuing our conversation.
A few minutes later, the woman passed by again, going the other way. This time she had a student in tow. A girl I recognized as she had been in the class I covered that day.
Ms. S: "No wonder she looked so familiar..."
I didn't realize until that moment that Ms. S recognized her too. I commented that the girl had been in my class.
Why did she look so familiar? Her daughter looks just like her.
Wednesday. Eighth grade English, seventh period.
When I left the art class, I didn't say "goodbye" to them. I said, "see you around". I explained that while I might be leaving the art class, I was still a district sub, and I would most definitely see them in other classes. I wasn't surprised to see many familiar faces in Ms. R's classes, but some of them were surprised to see me.
The day had gone fairly well as Ms. R is one of the strict ones and her lesson plan specifically stated that they were to work independently and quietly. (They were reading chapter ten of Lord of the Flies, and then they had questions to go along with it.)
But this class contained Oscar and Calvin.
I have mentioned Oscar on this blog before. Calvin was another student who couldn't sit still. He had been another of the students whose name I knew from repeated use.
The assignment was finishable, but I doubt either boy finished it. They were out of their seats way too frequently.
I was once again over by the boys, urging them to get to work.
Calvin: "When will you return to the art class?"
I explained that I wasn't going to. I had been the interim teacher until they hired Ms. D, but now that Ms. D was there, she'd be there going forward. She's an actual art teacher where I was just filling in.
Did Calvin even hear me? I kind of doubt it. He was on to another topic almost immediately.
They did not like me much when I was their teacher. But now? Now they miss me. Apparently (Although, not very much as since I've left I've covered two classes that some of them have and I've been on campus two or three other times in the two weeks since I left the art class.)
Monday. Fifth period AP English (twelfth grade, literature).
All the classes had assignments on paper that had to be turned in at the end of the period. Ms. A noted that otherwise she couldn't be sure the students weren't "consulting" ChatGPT at home. (I had a period of freshman English and a period of junior English before the seniors.)
I had to remind the class the assignment was due at the end of the period as it took them some time to get working. But they all finished and turned in their work before the end of the period.
As usual, I left a very detailed note for Ms. A. Her initial response:
I am not surprised by ANY of what you noted. Those baseball boys in the corner. Aye! Aye! Aye!
She was referencing a comment I made about some eleventh grade boys having long conversations that didn't touch on any of the essay they were supposed to be writing. But then I got a follow up email on Wednesday:
Hello! Quick question: Did my AP 12 students have computers with them on Monday? I am reading their assignments and they sound too good? Also, upon opening one of the Chromebooks today, a student noticed they were on chatgpt asking a Death of a Salesman question.
Oops. Because, yeah, some of them did have computers. I didn't think much of it at the time. It is something I totally should have caught as they had to go and get computers (they were not out).
I encountered something similar last school year while on the long term for the eleventh grade English class (those students now in the twelfth grade). Some of their answers were too good. I didn't believe some of them had done their work without ChatGPT assistance.
So, yeah, I should have clocked that.
I admitted my lapse. Ms. A wasn't upset with me. But she wasn't happy with her seniors...
Uh oh. They were in trouble...
I can't watch or read anything about the Holocaust. (I have mentioned this before.) No Schindler's List. No Night. I can absolutely not handle the Holocaust Museum. And when images taken from that time flash on my screen, I have to look away.
Depictions of the suffering of others is painful to me. It's a migraine trigger. It makes me sick to my stomach. My mind disassociates. And these feelings can linger long after I've been exposed to the words/images.
(It doesn't have to be the Holocaust, either. Years ago I was covering a world history class, and they were watching Hotel Rwanda. I actively avoided paying attention to the movie, but I was still sick for the two days we had to watch it.)
Which means that I'm a terrible witness to the atrocities that are going on today, perpetuated by ICE. (This is one of the reasons why this whole thing makes me so livid.) Every news report that comes out by someone who was detained by them, every report of what someone witnessed being perpetuated upon those ICE detains threatens my equilibrium.
Because, make no mistake, ICE is committing atrocities. Today.
(What's going on in Gaza: same.)
I will never forget the people who are not appalled by what is happening. Anyone who is okay with this is dead to me. Those who are standing by, or worse, who are actively helping this along have lost my trust entirely. Forever.
ICE and their minions deserve to be tried for crimes against humanity. And found guilty.
There have been some terrible stories coming out. That raid in Chicago. Every story guts me. Every. Story. And they're getting worse.
I don't know what to do about it. I can't be a witness. It'll destroy me. But I can't stand by and let this happen. What can we do?
Seriously. That's a question. If anyone has an answer, I'm here.
Again, I didn't do a whole lot of knitting this week:
Maybe six or seven rows...
(Yeah, I could have resisted, but they're getting to me.)
I don't have any good excuses. I guess I was just tired this past week. Hopefully I'll get a bit more oomph so I can get this front done sooner rather than later. (I'd like to set a deadline of Halloween, but I expect that to do as well as my last deadline.)
It's straight knitting (following the cable patterns) for about 25 inches or so. Wish me luck...
Sweater Tracking:
Do you remember making jokes about 69 when you were a kid? (Or maybe you still do...?)
So, I was mystified when the kiddos started laughing anytime I referred to 67. 67?!?
I was afraid to ask, but eventually I worked up the nerve. "Hey, what is this 6 or 7 thing all about?"
I did that a couple weeks ago, in the art class. And now that I know, I hear it everywhere. Seriously. Every. Where. All the kiddos refer to it. I hear it multiple times a day.
And because I'm a giving person, I thought you all might like to know about the current meme. (Because if I have to know...)
That's what started it. But what the kiddos are responding to...
So, yeah. If you're around any teens, say, "6 or 7". And watch their eyes light up. It's just so weird.
