Looking for a Way Out

For sixth period, I was in charge of the learning center. This is the place where the kiddos go when then need a quiet room for a test or if they need a little extra help with an assignment.

However, sometimes certain students are enrolled in that class, and on this day I had two. I was told one girl wouldn't be a problem. The second girl, however, had a slew of instructions...

...[Nicole's] ONLY responsibility... is to be on time and in an appropriate seat... she is to sit there and be quiet and not distract other students. 

She is not allowed to go to the restroom or anywhere on campus unattended. This includes the: nurse, psychologist, counselor, etc. She will try her best to leave class, please do not allow this... 

Oh, goody.

Happily, Nicole arrived with her one-on-one aide, a man I've met many times. He knows his job, so I wasn't too worried.

But Nicole immediately tried to get out of class. She wanted to see the psychologist.

I know how to play this, however. I said sure, let me just see if she's available. And then I went to the phone to call.

I got her voicemail. This means she was out of her office (so unavailable to meet with Nicole) or not answering her phone (so unavailable to meet with Nicole).

I told Nicole she wasn't there. So, then Nicole asked to see the counselor.

Again, I went to call. This time the counselor picked up.

I asked the counselor if she could see Nicole, but, "If you're busy right now and can't see her, no problem, I will tell her that". Since Nicole had her one-on-one, sending her out would have been okay as she had supervision. 

The counselor was busy at that moment with another student. So, Nicole was denied again.

After that, she settled down, entertained by her one-on-one.

I got busy helping a student with his test (more of a reading through it with him type of thing), so the period passed mostly uneventfully. But at about the last five minutes of class, there was a flurry of activity of students packing up. I looked around, and Nicole was gone.

Another student volunteered to run out and bring her back. Nicole returned a couple minutes later, poked her head in the door, told me there was a minute left of class, and left.

Sigh.

I informed her teacher of this. The teacher told me that they're in the process of finding Nicole another placement (probably in the emotionally disturbed program), but they need documentation.

So, I wrote up Nicole's defiance and sent it to the teacher. Because when a pattern emerges, it makes it easier for the administrative team to put a student like this where she needs to be.

Phoned

A high school day contains six periods. Most teachers work five with one "conference" or "prep" period. (The terms are interchangeable.) Teachers use that time, but subs generally just take a nice, long break.

So, when the school needs a class covered, we subs are called first. (We get paid extra for this, so we don't mind.)

We are fully into the school year, so I don't get many prep periods. I generally work them. So, on Monday I expected to get called to go and cover a fifth period (the teacher's prep). But I didn't.

I hadn't gotten any calls that day, actually. So, on the passing period between fourth and fifth, I checked my cell phone...

Yup, the secretary had texted me. (Turns out the classroom phone was broken.) She needed me to cover a fifth period. And I had three minutes to get across campus...

(I was late. Not very late, but late. But it was a computer class, so the kiddos kept themselves busy.)

Most of the time, the secretary informs me of what other class I need to cover on the prep period when I check in in the morning. But sometimes things come up during the day.

On Wednesday, I was not given an extra period, so every time the phone rang that day, I jumped, wondering if this was the call. But no. I got a call from the attendance office that a student needed to pick up his glasses. Two callers were looking for the teacher. A student was being picked up from school.

And then fifth period rolled around (coincidentally, my prep that day as well), and I hadn't gotten called. I get a free period!?!

Just to be safe, I checked my phone. No texts. So, I got comfortable...

About twenty minutes into class, the phone rang. The secretary said that a teacher had an emergency and had to leave campus right then. Sigh...

I packed up my stuff and headed over. It was the yearbook class, so they were occupied. The teacher bolted out as soon as I got there, and I got comfortable.

There's usually not this sort of drama with the covering of the extra periods, so it was strange to get two of those in one week.

(I did cover all six periods all five days last week. Two were assigned when I showed up in the morning, and one teacher didn't have a prep period.)

A Haunting

At the heart of much speculative fiction (and fiction in general) is a question. What if? On Tuesdays I like to throw one out there and see what you make of it. Do with it as you please. If a for-instance is not specified, feel free to interpret that instance as you wish. And if you find this becomes a novel-length answer, I'd appreciate a thank you in the acknowledgements. 😉

What if you could suddenly see ghosts? What if those ghosts could not see you?

Moebius Experiment

I'm coming up on the anniversary of starting the purple infinity scarf. Christmas is less than two months away. And, of course, my Etsy shop can always use new stock.

But am I working on any of that? Of course not. Nope. I just started a new project... for me.

Using birthday yarn (yarn gifted to me for my birthday back in July), I started a very simple infinity scarf...

The yarn is lace weight (read: very thin and fine), so of course this doesn't look like anything yet. If I have enough yarn to make this wide enough, it'll be a perfect scarf for SoCal "winter".

You can't tell from this picture, but this is a moebius. I saw on a TV show how easy it is to do moebius in crochet, and I had to try it.

I'll update when this looks like something more interesting. Although, hopefully now that I've got the cast on out of my system (that's the trick), I can get back to things I should be working on, like a custom order I just received.

In case you're curious (and I know some of you are crocheters or knitters), getting a moebius started is very simple. (This isn't the TV show I saw as unfortunately that's behind a paywall, but the technique is clearly illustrated.)

Lost his Audience

Seventh grade science. They were constructing an argumentative essay (using sentence frames) debating what caused the "canals" on Mars.

Justin walked into second period in play mode. He took way too long to get seated, and then he immediately got up because he "needed" something. And then...

In less than five minutes of class, I was done. Luckily, their teacher had left a list of nearby classrooms to send difficult children to. So, it was time to boot Justin.

Of course he resisted. But eventually he went where I sent him--Ms. D's class.

Before third period, I had a chance to talk to Ms. D. And it sounds like the punishment fit the crime.

Clearly, Justin had been playing to the crowd before. His antics were meant to elicit laughter. In the other classroom, Ms. D sat him near a group of cheerleaders. And they shut him down pretty quickly.

A year or two difference in age does make a huge difference.

Justin tried to entertain the girls. They gave him a look of pure disdain. So, Justin spent the period quietly working on his essay.

As this is all I wanted of him, I was pretty happy with that outcome.

A very different Justin returned to class at the end of the period. (I wanted him to return so he could turn in his work.) Let's hope that next time Justin has a sub in class, he doesn't immediately think it's play time.

Twenty Facts

Earth science. They had a video.

Because kiddos tend to ignore videos, there's generally an assignment to go along with them. On this day it was the standard twenty facts.

The students are supposed to take down a certain number of notes, and these notes get turned in. Twenty is a reasonable number for a fifty minute video. (Ten is too few. If we attempt to tell them a number like twenty-five, the students think it's "too much" and don't bother to do any. So, there's a balance to it.)

At a point in class a bit more than halfway through, I noticed the noise level creeping up. I shushed and moved about in an attempt to settle them back down. It took me way too long to look down at their papers and notice that they all had ten-ish facts listed.

"Remember," I announced, "you need twenty facts."

And that's when they lost it.

"It's only ten facts."

"You said ten facts."

And on and on and on.

They howled. Complained. Argued.

(Had I misspoken? I saw twenty facts in the lesson plan. That seemed like a reasonable number to me. So, I thought twenty. But I can't say for certain that I did, in fact, say twenty. I did admit this in my note to the teacher.)

I informed them that the lesson plan said twenty facts, so they needed to take down twenty facts. They still had about ten minutes left of the video. And I left it at that.

The push back died down, but they weren't going to let that go totally. A couple students started asking around. "Did you do more than ten?" And then, "Don't do more than ten." Yup, I had a mutiny. Which I ignored.

The next day I was on campus again, and I ran into their teacher. She was unsurprised at the kiddos' reaction. Apparently, they're belligerent with her, too.

She told me that a few of them had attempted to get more facts, and they really had had enough time to make up the difference, but she was going to give them ten minutes to take down more facts from their textbooks to get to twenty.

So, if I did screw up (and I'm not convinced that they didn't just hear ten because that's the number they wanted), they wouldn't lose points, because she was going to require all twenty facts for 100%.

Priorities

Ninth grade math. They... uh... had, um, a word search...

Well, they're not my class, so I rolled with it. They were happy to have an easy day. Easy points.

By fourth period I was no longer too worried about their "work". I should have known better.

Mostly, the kiddos finished the word search quickly, and then they found something else to do.

But, not very long into period four, I noted a group of four boys clearly competing on a video game on their phones.

(There are days I let this sort of thing slide. If they had had a longer assignment or something a bit more academic, the period would have felt less like a free day, and I would have been all over the boys to get to work.)

Still, I knew what was going to happen, and I decided to let it.

At the end of the period, I called for the word searches. A majority of the class had already given them to me, but I like to make a final call to make sure all of them get a chance to turn it in.

The gaming boys...

"It's due?!?"

"Can I do it for homework?"

When I passed it out, I said "due at the end of the period". I was crystal clear. Besides, why would something that is clearly busy work need to be finished at home? (Sometimes teachers leave work that is just filler to keep them busy. That is so much better than leaving them up to their own devices, so I am grateful for those assignments even if I know the kiddos don't invest much energy into them.)

I was a bit too happy that they turned in word searches with two or three words found. If they chose to waste time...

(If only they had done what everyone else did that day and finish the word search first, then got out their game, they would have been fine. It's a lesson I hope they learned.)

What's that Noise?

At the heart of much speculative fiction (and fiction in general) is a question. What if? On Tuesdays I like to throw one out there and see what you make of it. Do with it as you please. If a for-instance is not specified, feel free to interpret that instance as you wish. And if you find this becomes a novel-length answer, I'd appreciate a thank you in the acknowledgements. 😉

What if you heard a strange tapping (or settling) noise coming from the roof? And when you checked, it wasn't raining. 

(True story. It might happen more often, but usually I wouldn't be able to hear it over the din of students talking...)

Photo Editing

I haven't been doing much knitting or crocheting this past week. I did work a little on the purple infinity scarf, but I didn't make enough progress for photos.

What I did instead was some photo editing. I'm still working on listings for my Etsy shop, and these photos have been sitting on my computer for a while. (August. I think the date on these is August.)

When I start, the photo looks something like this...

I do a little tweaking, and it looks like this...

Or I start with this...

And get it to this...

I ended up taking 33 pictures for this listing. I get to use 10. And that's about how many pictures I take for each, so it takes me a bit to go through them.

Hopefully next week I'll have some new knits (or crochet) to share.

(If you're interested in purchasing some of my EOS lip balm holder/keychains, you can find them here.)

Seniors

I lucked out with a government class. Seniors.

The funniest part was how many of them I knew. I looked at the roll sheets and recognized a good third of the students. Then the classes walked in, and I recognized another third.

I remember that girl. She was so upset in the eighth grade that her classmates were horrible. I promised her it would get better... Oh, I remember that boy. He gave me such a hard time in that special ed. class that one day... 

And there's just something about senior year. They grow up. I'm never sure how it happens, but it does.

I recognized Vaughn the minute he walked in. I've encountered him many times over the years. When I first met him, I always braced for trouble. Over the last year, that stopped.

I also recognized Blake. He and Vaughn are friends. I've seen them goofing off outside of class many times.

It was the beginning of second period. Blake walked up to me. He asked if he could sit next to "the boy in the white long-sleeve shirt". I did not say that I knew who Vaughn was. I just nodded. And let him.

Any other year, the answer would be no. But the class walked in calmly. I just knew I was going to have a silent class. And I saw no reason to deny him.

Sure enough, the class worked silently all period. Blake and Vaughn barely communicated. (It wasn't a test. It was a "Voter Turnout Activity". They were analyzing the voter turnouts for 2016 via online resources.)

I do occasionally get to see this. They do grow out of it. And those that don't get sent to the continuation high school.

Sort of a Reward

Eighth grade math. They were doing test corrections. That is, they were going through their tests and reworking the problems they got wrong. This was a mostly voluntary exercise as if they chose not to do it, the teacher wasn't going to force them. It could only improve their grade.

In fact, the teacher told me that if they wanted to mess around watching videos on YouTube or playing video games, she was fine with that. I wasn't about to tell them this, so when they asked what to do after they finished (or if they told me they weren't going to do it), I told them to work on work for another class or read a reading book. (This is my usual speech for when middle schoolers tell me they're finished with the assignment.)

Several of the students were familiar to me from the vacant English class at the beginning of the year. (I will probably say this a lot this school year.)

It was sixth period. A girl called me over. I recognized her. She was one of the good ones. (Several of my problem students were girls, so that doesn't go without saying.)

She showed me her test score. She got 27 out of 27. 100%. Therefore, no corrections to be made.

"Congratulations," I said. "You get a free period."

Because, I totally could have told her she could do other work. And she might have chosen to do so anyway. But I'm totally good with telling her she can watch videos or otherwise veg all period. She earned it.

Forewarned

Eighth grade math. They were doing test corrections. That is, they were going through their tests and reworking the problems they got wrong. This was a mostly voluntary exercise as if they chose not to do it, the teacher wasn't going to force them. It could only improve their grade.

Several of the students were familiar to me from the vacant English class at the beginning of the year. (I will probably say this a lot this school year.)

Dylan was one of the lesser difficult students. I had bigger problems than him, but he totally took advantage of the situation and played rather than worked. So, when he informed me that he has a D in the English class, I wasn't surprised.

Their grades are online, and they can access them at any time. While I was covering the English class, I warned the students that while I was not inputting their assignments (I didn't have access as a sub), their work did still count. I warned them that they'd go from having zero assignments and no grade to having five assignments in a blink.

Dylan showed me the breakdown for his grade. He was missing several assignments, including two that I had assigned...

"I told you those were going to count," I said.

And, really, at this point it's probably too late to turn those assignments in.

Sigh. I did warn them. And, really, it was kind of nice to be able to say I told you so.

Observed or Observer

At the heart of much speculative fiction (and fiction in general) is a question. What if? On Tuesdays I like to throw one out there and see what you make of it. Do with it as you please. If a for-instance is not specified, feel free to interpret that instance as you wish. And if you find this becomes a novel-length answer, I'd appreciate a thank you in the acknowledgements. 😉

Because summer, I was watching a show on The CW called Mysteries Decoded. And this episode on Bigfoot gave me the idea for this question...

What if Bigfoot (or Yeti or any of the other cryptozoological creatures we hear about) is really a group of extraterrestrial anthropologists who are studying us humans?

A Finished Phone Cozy

I finished last week's phone cozy...

Alas, there was a bit too much light in my photos this time...

This is actually a good problem to have. In the past, I've suffered from too dark images...

I do make these as custom orders, if anyone is interested. I no longer stock them in my Etsy shop, so you'll have to ask me for one...

But the positive of that is that you can pick the color, the strap length (in this case, the request for it to be strap-less), the size, and you can make any other requests of me that you like.

I think there's a way to list these with those parameters, and maybe one of these days I'll get around to doing that. But I currently have a backlog of other things to get listed, so it's not currently a priority.

Since this is the sort of thing that most knitters would prefer to make for themselves, the pattern is available to purchase. You can get it via my Etsy shop or via Ravelry. (The pattern includes a chart for the stitch pattern as well as the instructions to make a narrower or wider version.)

His Original Sentence

I was back in one of those very special ed. classes. These are the classes where the high school aged kiddos are doing first grade work.

First period. They did "calendar" where they colored in a calendar on that day's (and the weekend's as it was a Friday) date. Then they were to work on their News-2-You packets. (It's a very cool current events kind of assignment. Click on the link to learn a bit about it.)

The students I was working with were doing pretty well on their own. They didn't need me prompting them to do the work. And they didn't need a lot of help.

But when Adam had to write sentences, he did need help. He brought me a white board, dry erase marker, and eraser. Then he pulled out the sheet. The instructions said: Use one, two, or all of the following picture/word cards to write a sentence or story.

The words were: brown bears, fattest, vote, contest, and people.

Okay, so context... The week's story was on Fat Bear Week held in Alaska's Katmai National Park. (They declared a winner on Wednesday.) Did you know there's a live Brown Bear Cam? (They had the video feed on for three periods.) Anyway, the story was about how annually they have this contest to determine the fattest bear before they go into hibernation.

The activities for the kiddos were related to that, hence the word choices for the "story". I did not know any of this as Adam constructed his story, but his work page was pretty clear.

At times like these, I ask leading questions to get a sentence. Adam started with "brown bears". Okay. I asked, "Brown bears do what?"

His sentence was grammatically correct...

His sentence reads: The brown bears at the fattest people.

So it was a bit bloodthirsty... I suppose I probably should have talked him out of it. Yeah, I probably should have.

Another Unexpected Day

It was Thursday. I was expecting to cover a math class. When I checked in for the day, the secretary handed me the folder for an English class.

Again?

It happens from time to time. I was told I was covering one class only to show up to a different assignment. Sometimes the teacher cancels. Sometimes they need to shift subs to fill the classes. And I don't generally mind.

But it's happened four times in the last couple weeks. That's a lot.

Not that I'm complaining anywhere but here. Because the other option is for me to show up only to have my assignment disappear. (That doesn't happen as often as it did when I started out subbing.)

And sometimes it actually works out better.

On Monday I though I was covering a co-teacher who travels. (Doable, but on my gimpy ankle, not ideal.) I was switched to a very nice seventh grade science class.

On Thursday, the English class I got switched into... Well, the teacher took two of her classes with her on some field trip or other. So, instead of covering a full day, I only had three classes to sub. And I still got paid for the full day.

So, not complaining. Nope. Not at all.

The Tattler

Seventh grade science, advanced. They had a vocabulary assignment, one they could complete in about twenty minutes of focused work.

Many of the students had been in the vacant English class. Jeremy has, in fact, already made the blog. He was the crier on "Picture Day".

Jeremy is... well... he's kind of a delicate flower. He's still very much a little kid.

We were about halfway into class. Jeremy approached me. (I was still babying my ankle, so I was sitting as much as possible.) He wanted to know what to do after he finished. Although, that's not what he said.

Jeremy sputtered. He kept looking over at a student to his left. Pointing and stuttering.

I glanced over. The boy had Cool Math Games up on his Chromebook. He was actually writing on his assignment, not looking at his computer. The room was silent.

I kept my focus on Jeremy.

"He's... he's..."

"Don't worry about him," I instructed.

When students ask what to do when they've finished, I tell them to work on any unfinished homework (from other classes) or read a reading book (as most English classes have some sort of reading assigned). I turn a blind eye towards appropriate games or drawing or such. Classes sometimes have downtime, and kiddos need to learn how to keep themselves occupied when this happens.

The other boy wasn't bothering anybody. He was working quietly. And once a student has finished the assigned work, my requirements have been satisfied.

Jeremy finally got his question out, turned in his work, and went back to his seat. But not before going towards the other boy...

Sigh. This is the sort of thing that turns his peers against him.

I get wanting to get everyone on task, but at some point, one has to let them be them.

Bad Planning

At the heart of much speculative fiction (and fiction in general) is a question. What if? On Tuesdays I like to throw one out there and see what you make of it. Do with it as you please. If a for-instance is not specified, feel free to interpret that instance as you wish. And if you find this becomes a novel-length answer, I'd appreciate a thank you in the acknowledgements. 😉

What if your carefully laid plans blew up in your face? (Figuratively. Although, literally has some interesting possibilities...)

Currently

My current WIP:

It's a custom order phone cozy. When finished it'll look something like this:

Although, without the strap, and this color is truer. (The first image was shot in full sunlight at noon.)

And as for my injury (which I wrote about last week), I'm healing. The ankle is still a bit swollen, but the pain is nearly gone. I can walk, albeit slowly. I think at this point I'm more paranoid of falling again than anything else.

I hope all is improving for you all as well. Happy Monday.

Mistaken Identity

The Learning Center is a room specifically for RSP special ed. kiddos. It's the room where they get extra time to take tests, and they can go there to get extra help on various assignments.

Every period there is one teacher on duty. The room has an instructional assistant as well, Mr. Claus. (Not his real name, of course. But, he could totally play Santa Claus. All he would need would be the red suit.)

On this day I was covering fifth period. We had had about six students sign in. They appeared to be taking tests.

The phone rang. I hobbled over and answered. It was from a history teacher. She had sent three students over to complete a test. She explained that her students had been warned not to have phones out, and she wanted to know if any of her students did.

So, I hobbled over and peered over their shoulders. Two girls had their phones out. I went back to the phone and let Ms. S know.  One of the students was hers, and she told me to send her back to class.

Time passed. A student here, a student there, they finished up and returned to class. One student asked to use the restroom. And then, it was just Mr. Claus and me.

The phone rang again. It was again Ms. S. she wanted Joshua sent back to her class. I told her we had no students in the room.

Ms. S said he must be on his way back. She'd wait a bit, and then contact security. I thought it had been a while since the last student had left the room, so he should have totally returned by then.

At some point during the phone call or shortly thereafter, a new student arrived. It was kind of late in the period to start a test, but he was willing to risk it.

I had barely hung up with Ms. S when the student who had used the restroom returned. I had forgotten about him.

"Joshua?" I asked.

He nodded.

"Ms. S just called. She'd like you back in class."

He packed up and left. I let him know to tell her that he had been in the restroom when she called. I didn't want him in trouble just because I had forgotten a student had gone. (He had been gone a while, but it wasn't like he had vanished which is what we had thought.)

Just as he left, Ms. S called back. I told her Joshua was on his way back. Now she wanted Michael returned.

I looked to the other boy in the room.

"Michael?" I asked.

"No. That was Michael."

Uh...

"I was surprised he said he was Joshua," the boy continued.

Mr. Claus and I exchanged glances. He knew the boy as well and wasn't sure why he answered to Joshua either.

On the bright side, Michael was accounted for, Joshua was actually missing, and I sent the correct boy back to his class.

But where was Joshua? And why had Michael said he was Joshua?

I don't think I'll ever know.

Phoning it In

Last Friday I ended up covering the eighth grade English class of the department chair (the one who gave me lesson plans for the first couple weeks while I covered that vacant English class). They're reading Lord of the Flies.

It used to be when kiddos were reading in class, it meant that they'd read aloud, a paragraph at a time, or they'd read it to themselves. But with so many audiobook options nowadays, it's more likely that they'll follow along while a professional reads to them.

(There are pros and cons to this, and most teachers change things up depending on the day. When there are subs, using the audiobook helps with classroom control so so much.)

But, of course, the teacher didn't leave her laptop, and the hook up for the classroom speakers was on the opposite side of the room from the desktop computer. And the Chromebooks were locked up. (Sigh.)

It was suggested that I use my phone.

(I am reluctant to use my phone as it's old enough that the battery doesn't hold a charge as long as it once did. And I didn't bring a charger with me.)

So, I typed the address into my phone. I eventually got the thing to work, but it took a while. (And it was touchy besides.) During which time, well, eighth graders don't wait well.

At least I got it working well enough so that I didn't have that same issue the rest of the day. Although, there were other issues...

(But it was a good way to spend the day seated rather than on my sore ankle.)

The teacher had left helpful Post-It notes where I needed to stop and ask questions. They had written work to complete. It was a great lesson, once the technical issues were worked out.

If you're curious (or would like to have an audiobook version of Lord of the Flies), you can find that here.

Keyless

After my fall that Monday, I wisely took Tuesday off. I had been scheduled for the same classes for Tuesday and Wednesday. While I was still limping about on Wednesday, my ankle was much, much better than it had been the day prior. I would have been in miseries if I had attempted the assignment on Tuesday.

The big problem was that the teacher traveled throughout the day. She co-taught for three periods, and she had her own classes for two.

I did not know this at the start of the day. I assumed she co-taught all day, so when I was not assigned keys, I did not worry.

When I arrived at the classroom for third period, the class waiting outside informed me that they had one teacher. Well, that wasn't a major problem. I got out my cell phone, called the office, and asked that they send someone to open the classroom.

For fourth and fifth periods, I went elsewhere. It was for sixth period that I returned to this classroom.

But right before sixth period is lunch. And security is busy supervising, so they couldn't come immediately to let me in the door. I kind of wanted to get in early so I could sit and wait for the end of lunch.

I got to the classroom, hoping the other teacher who uses the classroom second period (and who was also off at that moment) would be there. Alas, no.

I stood and pondered. The office was all the way at the front of campus while this classroom was near the back. There was no security in sight.

While I considered my options, one of the assistant principals appeared. I was shocked as this was not his usual part of campus. He let a student into a classroom nearby. It appeared that she had forgotten something inside, and the teacher wasn't there to let her in.

All the administrators carry keys that let them in any room. So, as he finished up with the student and her friends (I didn't catch much of the conversation, only something about him needing to talk to a parent whose phone number no longer worked), I approached. When he finished I politely asked if he could let me into the room across the way.

It was so nice to be able to sit for a bit before class. (I sat after class started, too.) It was so lucky that he happened by at that moment in time. Sometimes I'm just lucky.

What Not to Do

At the heart of much speculative fiction (and fiction in general) is a question. What if? On Tuesdays I like to throw one out there and see what you make of it. Do with it as you please. If a for-instance is not specified, feel free to interpret that instance as you wish. And if you find this becomes a novel-length answer, I'd appreciate a thank you in the acknowledgements. 😉

What if the one thing "they" asked you not to do was the only available option?