Mocking Him on the Internet

Friday. Integrated math 1 (read: algebra). Seventh period. 

Note: Ms. G's co-teacher in this period, Mr. R, is going on leave in December and has requested me to cover for him. So, there may be more stories about this group come December. 

Because of all the middle school classes I've covered over the last couple years, this year's freshman class are well-known to me. When Ryker walked in late, I totally recognized him. 

He sat in the back far corner. Not surprising. He did not remain in that seat, however, but that was the least of my worries. 

Then there was Joaquin. Next to him was a girl who was applying her makeup. (Insert eye roll here, but she wasn't bothering anybody.) Joaquin was saying things to her and about her. At some point, he realized he was pestering her, and he actually stopped, and he actually apologized. 

The girl? She informed Joaquin that she would beat him up after school. And she said it in a tone that said she could totally do it. The girl wasn't even 5 ft tall, and she was a slight thing besides. But she had the attitude of someone who was a black belt and knew she could take anyone down.

Joaquin turned to me then. "She threatened me." 

I pointed out that he'd been mocking her. She said it had been for the whole period. 

If I thought she was going to follow through, I'd've called someone about it. But the threat? Totally warranted. 

Joaquin turned his attention towards Ryker, and Ryker turned his attention towards Joaquin. 

The verbal sparring came to a head when Ryker called Joaquin a dork, loudly, and for the whole class to hear. I was in the process of chiding Ryker when Joaquin leaned in and very quietly called Ryker something worse. (I think it was b**ch, but if not, it was something along those lines. I heard it, but the memory has faded.) 

Ryker went to sit on the other side of the room. He wasn't calling attention to himself, although Joaquin was calling attention to the move. (Ryker had been loud before, but he was quiet then. I'd take the seat change with him not disturbing the class.) 

Eventually they settled down. But as the end of the period approached, both Ryker and Joaquin asked the usual question. Was their name in my note?

The answer to that question is always yes. If they have to ask, then they did something meriting inclusion. 

But, just because, I mentioned to Ryker that not only was his name in the note, I would also be writing a blog post about him. And I would mock him on the internet. 

Ryker's response? He wanted the name of my blog and he wanted to see the picture I'd use. (Yikes. As if I'd even use his real name. I may mock him on the internet, but he's a minor, and I'm not about to use any actually identifiable information about him.) 

I guess Ryker doesn't mind being mocked on the internet. Actually, that's not surprising, now that I consider it. 

Acting Like Middle Schoolers

Wednesday. Twelfth grade English. First period. 

Seniors. What could go wrong?

They were starting Hamlet, and we were doing some preliminary work with a Shakespearean sonnet. I had been running late that morning, and so I hadn't had much time to peruse the lesson plans, so I gave the directions very, very badly. 

This isn't the first time I've given directions badly, though. The problem was, the class wasn't exactly trying. Getting them to pay attention to the instructions and then getting them to work wasn't going well. And, I had a co-teacher (who I've worked with before) who is in the class all the time. They weren't listening to her, either. 

For the last fifteen or so minutes of class, they were to start listening to the play. Ms. S had left a CD and a boombox with which to play it. The boombox was plugged into the in-ceiling speakers. Technology I could manage. 

But, not so much. I put in the CD. Pressed play. And I got no sound. 

I turned up the volume. I switched the inputs. I stopped and restarted the CD. Nothing.

The class? Went wild. 

So, while I was dealing with the technology, the class was getting louder and louder, and someone threw a pen at us. (It missed. It hit the teacher's desk, but it did not strike either of us.) 

Ms. K was livid. They were acting like middle schoolers. Seriously, I expect that behavior from a middle school group, but from seniors? Yeah, no. 

I finally got the CD working. (I had to turn the boombox off and turn it back on. Then it all worked.) The class? Not listening to Act 1, scene 1 of the play. 

Ms. K wanted to know who threw the pen. (From experience I know I won't find out who it was. Many times the teacher can figure it out later.) The class mocked her for not being a real teacher. (Which was ridiculous. She's the special ed teacher in the co-taught class. She knows her stuff and has been teaching for many years. They seem to think she's an aide or something, which is also not fair to aides.) 

Ms. K? Held them in at snack. 

They were not happy. Also not happy? Ms. S. When I saw her the next day, let's just say first period is now in a world of hurt. And she was closing in on the pen thrower. 

Covering senior classes is supposed to be a cake day. Not so much with them. But, I had sophomores for the rest of the day, and they were lovely. 

Enjoying the Cooler Weather

Tuesday. Tenth grade chemistry. Second period. 

After 100℉ (38℃) temps the previous week, our weather fell off a cliff, and on Tuesday we were forecast to have a high of 72℉ (22℃). Ah, bliss. 

When I walked into the classroom, the thermostat (which was off) read 64℉ (18℃). And it was perfect. Just a bit chilly, but once the kiddos arrived, the room would warm up. 

The kiddos were not as cooperative as I would have liked. There was a table of girls who were having way too much fun. They had an assignment, but they "finished" it way too quickly. 

One of those girls, early in the period, mentioned the temperature of the room. "It's cold in here."

Me: "Yes. Isn't it glorious?"

Because it was. I was comfortable for the first time in months. I didn't have sweat dripping down my back first thing in the morning. 

The girl didn't see my point. She urged me to turn on the heat. 

Heat? Hell, no. 

I'm not insane. When we get to the colder months and I walk into a classroom and the thermostat reads 54℉ (12℃), the first thing I do is turn on the heat. But 64℉? 

By the time the girl complained, the thermostat was well above that. It was 70℉ (21℃) by the end of the period. (I did turn on the a/c after that, but mostly to blow air to keep the temperature there. It'd climb quickly and get very stuffy if I didn't.) 

It wasn't like the girl was dressed wrong. She was in long sleeves and jeans. And it wasn't that cold. But I suppose we had been so warm for so long that it felt positively frigid by comparison. 

The next day I had a similar argument with a senior girl. When she complained of the cold, I pointed out that it was forecast to get into the 90s (30s in Celsius) in a couple days. She said that was way too hot. 

Yup. Agreed. So, let's enjoy the cool while we have it. A blissful two days. 

Election Season

I ran across this article last week that's a filling out of a long BlueSky thread chain. I thought it was interesting, so I'm sharing: 

What Happens When Fascists Realize They Might Lose?: The attack on Ilhan Omar’s home, the desperation of an unpopular fascist administration, and the long fight ahead.

But my big project for the week was to look at my ballot and get my voting done. I'm in California, and they mailed our ballots to us at the beginning of the month. There are many propositions to go through, plus there are a bunch of judicial races that I always have to look up. Oh, and we're voting for a new governor. 

Anyway, you'll be happy to know that I got that done, got my ballot filled out, and I got it sent back in. (As of this writing it hasn't made it to where it gets counted, but I got notification that it's in the system and on the way.) 

If you're in the LA area, I found an interesting voter's guide that explained all those persnickety judicial races that I never know who to vote for in. It also explained in plain English what those ballot propositions were actually about. So I could make up my own mind. (They had the way they were urging us to vote, but they explained their reasoning, which helped.) 

I guess this week's post is about voting. Make sure to vote in this midterm election (if you are in the US). If we can flip the House and flip the Senate, we can urge those officials to put a stop to the shenanigans that the regime is getting up to. These are the checks we need for all the awful things they're doing. 

Just for fun, a little ad for CA-34 that's kinda fun. (I have no skin in this race as I'm in CA-41.) 

And this one from Mississippi: 

Make sure to vote. 

No Progress

I did no knitting or crocheting last week. But this post needs a pic, so here are the slippers...

Last week I mentioned how I had finished filming all the clips I needed for the video I made as a how-to-knit these slippers. It was just a matter of waiting for my brother to put them together. 

My brother returned the edit the next day. 

Now I need to sit and watch the 40-minute video to make sure there are no other changes to make. 

But with work and this little cold I caught, I did not have the time or energy to do that. (I expected it to be a while before my brother had time to edit together the video. Nope. He managed to squeeze it in.) 

I'll get to it. Eventually. I'm writing this on Saturday at about 7 PM. My day? I got up, had breakfast, and then I slept for four hours. I feel so much better after that little nap, but I'm not quite all the way well yet. 

(I blame the flu shot. I was a little tired, but fine, and then I got my flu shot on Wednesday. Thursday? Full-blown cold.) 

Anyway, the video is in progress. It'll be done. Soon. Just not quite this soon. 

Playing It Safe

I do not know if you heard about the heat wave in southern California, so let me just mention how horribly hot it was last week. 100℉ (that's about 38℃) highs. But, by Thursday things had cooled off to a balmy high of 90℉ (32℃). 

When I ran into Ms. G on Wednesday (when I ended up covering her co-teacher on my prep period), I asked her about the room switch, and she informed me that her air conditioning wasn't working. Uh oh. I was booked to cover her class the next day. This was horrible news.

But we were not in her classroom. The room we were in was used only for first and second periods, and then it was vacant the rest of the day. Knowing this, I made sure Sherry (the sub secretary) checked me out a key to that room. 

Thursday. Eighth grade math.

I arrived at Ms. G's actual classroom. She had written in the lesson plan that the a/c worked a bit, but it had been giving up later in the day. I turned on the a/c and hoped for the best. At the end of second period (they're on a block schedule, and this was an even day) the a/c was still blowing cool air. So, good. 

But, do I hope the a/c will hold out, or do I go to the room where it's a sure thing? If the a/c went out mid-period, we could move (as I had the other room's key, too), but moving eighth graders in the middle of a period? 

After they all arrived in the usual room, I walked the class over to the other room. And things went rather well. (Ms. G's co-teacher was also out--same meeting--so it was a two-sub day.)

Sixth period was the prep period, and I had been asked to cover a different class. For eighth period, Ms. C and I agreed to meet in Ms. G's usual room and walk the kiddos over like we had fourth period. 

(There was a note on the door for anyone looking for us during class time, but leaving a note on the door and hoping the kiddos would arrive in the correct classroom on time? Or at all? I don't trust eighth graders to do this.) 

Ms. C and I arrived during passing period, and the classroom was cool. The a/c was working? 

I mean, it hadn't had to work so hard keeping a classroom full of kiddos cool. The day wasn't as hot as earlier in the week. Maybe it would hold out? 

Ms. C and I conferred. Do we risk it? I had left my stuff in the other classroom, but one of us could have gone and gotten that if we were staying. 

We decided to leave it up to the class. We took a vote. They were pretty evenly divided, but going won by two votes. 

At the end of the day I had to return papers and such to Ms. G's actual classroom. The a/c? Still blowing cool air. 

Would it have held out? Was it now working? I can't be sure. I can be sure that I won't want to cover Ms. G's class again until the weather cools off. Whenever that is. 

(It's supposed to rain this week. When you read this it might be cooler. It might be wet. And we might get hot days after this. The joys of SoCal in October.) 

Home Base

Wednesday. Special ed math. (I was covering Ms. L, who at this point I know rather well.) 

First period was co-taught with Mr. J, who was also out. He had left a test. I took the special ed kiddos next door to the math learning center so they could do their test. 

{My big drama for the period was when one kiddo made a dramatic entrance about halfway through the test. He was supposed to be with me, but he remained behind, not sure why. I called names of who was going. One reason the kiddos take tests separately is because the special ed kiddos are allowed to use their notes on the tests--it's one of their accommodations. So, when the other sub caught him using his notes, he understandably called the student on it. 

Apparently Mr. J lets him remain as Mr. J knows who is allowed the notes and who is not. But subs. So, the student got sent to me, and he was not happy about it. 

I know how Mr. J will react to this. Something similar happened last year. Mr. J has told the kiddos that they can follow the sub's instructions for the day. They're old enough to go with the flow for one day. But sophomores. They get touchy about things.}

Then third period was Mr. L's conference period. (The school is on a block schedule. This was the odd day.) I remained in the learning center as that's where Ms. L's desk was located. I was just settling in for a little break (opening Feedly and getting ready to read through the day's blogs) when I got a call from the sub secretary, Sherry. Could I cover a third period? Deep sigh. 

I packed up my stuff and headed out. When I got to Ms. G's temporary classroom [her a/c wasn't working, and last week our temps hovered around 100℉ (that's about 38℃)], I learned that the lesson was for them to take a test. And the co-teacher I was covering was to take the special ed students to another classroom so they could test in a quieter setting. Guess where. 

So, we hiked back to the learning center. 

I plopped my stuff back on Ms. L's desk, and I watched the kiddos take their test. (Things went smoothly.)

If I had known I was going to spend two periods in the same room back-to-back, I would have set up a more comfortable spot to observe from. But some days kind of take you by surprise. (The rest of the day I was in different classrooms.) 

The Competition

Monday. Tenth grade English. Co-taught. 

The kiddos had some questions to answer from their reading of "The Masque of the Red Death" by Edgar Allan Poe, and then they were to begin reading the articles for their district writing essay (that they do once a quarter). And other than the kiddo in period eight who thought that that was the perfect time to blow up balloons and make balloon animals for everyone, the students spent their time making progress on their assignments. 

It's early October (at least, this day was), and while I had been scrambling for assignments, August and September were mostly filled with working days. While I was booked for most of last week, that was the extent of my bookings. The rest of October and November (and December and after) were completely blank. 

But this is when the jobs start popping up. 

I was seated, watching the kiddos work, when I got an alert on my watch. New job. I grabbed for it. Missed. Damn.

Then another job popped up. This one I caught. 

I looked over at my co-teacher for the day. Mr. H. The usual co-teacher was also out at the meeting (or whatever) that had taken Mr. E, so it was us two subs. Mr. H has been a sub about as long I have been, and we get along. We've both been trying to keep busy working. So, when I realized that someone (likely Allie) was putting in gigs, I let him know jobs were being input. 

Then another gig popped up. I grabbed for it. Missed. 

I turned to Mr. H. "Did you get it?" Nope. 

He got an alert that I did not get. (I heard his phone alert.) He grabbed for it. I think he missed it, but I'm not sure. 

Why didn't I get that alert? It could be that it was on a day I already had a job, or it could be that it was taken before it got to me. No matter. 

We both kept looking. Not much was input for a while. Or, at least I didn't get alerted. 

The class was working quietly. My computer alerted. I grabbed, and I got it! "Yes!" I probably shouldn't have said that out loud, but it just slipped out. 

Mr. H? He was still trying. 

At the end of the day I had picked up three assignments. During the rest of the week several jobs came up for grabs, and while I would have liked to have gotten more of them, I got a fair number. 

As of this writing, I have at least one gig booked for each week of the next six weeks (two weeks with one, three weeks with two, and one week with three), and a teacher reached out to let me know he'd be out for December and could I cover his classes? 

So, I'm working. Mr. H? He's working, too. Hopefully more days will pop up. I mean, it's likely. People get sick. Things happen. It'll be fine. 

At least I've got some things coming up that are already booked. 

How Goodhart's Law Explains Why Social Media Is So Bad

It was a hot week. I caught some sort of stomach bug (more of a minor irritation than anything that knocked me down for the count). And I've just been trying to hold on. I wasn't really paying attention to, you know, everything. 

Although, if a certain someone gets outside forces to take out Los Angeles, that's me. I'm not in Los Angeles proper, but a good nuclear blast would be close enough to take out my city. So, that attack was personal. 

Anyway, I'm being lazy this week with a video I stumbled across. It talks about Goodhart's Law, which states, "When a measure becomes a target, it ceases to be a good measure". In this video, at about 3:54, they say something very interesting about how they started measuring social media engagement, and discovered that outrage keeps people online longer. This explains a lot about our current online issues. Food for thought. 

But I can't leave this post without some "resisting" content, so from Rachel Maddow, the word most picked by people to describe you-know-who is corrupt. Unsurprising, really. 

I hear there are No Kings protests coming this weekend. Just a heads-up in case you hadn't heard (like I hadn't until just before writing this post). 

A Beginning and an Ending

As I mentioned last week, I still had some filming to do to complete the video tutorial for the ugly slippers. Not anymore. I managed to complete the filming. Probably. 

With the slippers completed, I just had the opening to do: 

And the closing: 

And a few spots in between, mostly the gauge swatch and how to measure everything. 

Now I need to go through what I filmed, choose the best versions, upload those so that my brother has access, and wait for him to have time to put it all together. (He has a full-time job. He'll get it done when he can.) 

I also need to come up with a video title and create the video thumbnail. That will include getting decent photos of the slippers. 

So, the actual video won't be done for a bit yet. But progress. I'm content with it. 

Cure for Sub Boredom

Culinary arts. Friday. Sixth period. 

Yes, that's cooking. Yes, home ec is still around, although they don't do sewing anymore. I think it's considered a CTE class, that is career and technical education. 

The assignment was a cooking video and then they had questions to answer. 

The video: 

They had the video in their Google Classroom as well as the questions. I played the video on the big TV, but I wasn't too concerned when they ignored it as I could hear it playing from some of their computers. 

I walked the room to talk to a student about something, I forget what. Then another student said something, and I offered my help. I said what I always say. 

"I have nothing else to do, so please, if you need some help, let me know."

The student? 

"You can stream a TV show from your computer," and as she said it, she motioned towards the teacher's desk as if to say I should go there and not bother them. 

Yikes. That was dismissive.

But, teenagers. 

And seriously, they didn't need my help. I was being way too much. Which is part of the fun of subbing with teenagers. It is so much fun to be way too much when they are doing their sullen teenage thing. 

I got my revenge. I took a picture of their cell phone storage which wasn't holding many of their cell phones. And I sent it to their teacher. Bwa-ha-ha!

Phoning It In

Signs I've been subbing too long:

When I got the keys for the day, the secretary told me that Mr. J was in room 908. But I knew that was wrong. I knew that Mr. J was in room 911. Room 908 doesn't really exist. So, I asked for the key to room 911. 

I got to where Mr. J's room was, between rooms 910 and 912, and sure enough, the door now says room 908. I tried the key for 908, but it didn't work. I tried the key for 911 which did. 

So... why? One day (a day I was on the campus for, it happened last year when I was in that vacant art class) people on campus tried calling Mr. J in his classroom. The number to dial is the room number. But on this day, that 911 ended up going straight to the outside emergency line, and it broke the entire school's phone system. 

They reprogrammed his phone to extension 908 (as nothing else worked and that extension number was free), and I guess they had to make the room number match the extension number. 

Once in the room I found no lesson plans. But as the kiddos were arriving, the phone rang. Mr. J. I knew he wasn't going to leave me hanging, but he was running late, and he let me know to stall until he got there. (He was going to be out of class for a meeting, but he'd be on campus.) 

And after getting the kiddos going (he got there shortly after I took roll), he promised to put another assignment into Google Classroom for the students who were ahead. Alas, he did not do this as once he got to his meeting he got involved in his meeting. 

(I texted him to remind him, but he didn't check his phone until way later. Not in time for that class, but he put the assignment in for the next group.)

The class? Eighth grade science. 

The last class of the day was 8th grade success. It's basically a study skills class. Mr. J had thrown together a plan, and I was in the process of getting them started when another adult arrived. She explained that she was there to do a drug prevention presentation to the group. 

Considering how the day had gone thus far, I was not terribly surprised that Mr. J had forgotten. 

Did the kiddos pay attention? Once the presenter bribed them with candy, they were more receptive to the information. 

Some days... 

Stylin' the Eighties

Chemistry. Tuesday, eighth period. 

The lesson plan for the day was for them to complete some surveys the district was requiring of all the high school students. Mr. U said that it should take the whole period, but teenagers rush through things, so many were finished with much time to spare. 

Mostly they were sophomores, and mostly sophomores know how to not make a nuisance of themselves when they've finished their work. Most have learned how to sneak onto video games. 

But not Jessie. No. Jessie first distinguished himself by taking 20 minutes in the restroom. In a building where the restroom was steps away from the classroom. Deep sigh. 

I'm not going to list all of Jessie's misdeeds, mostly because as I write this it's been four days since I covered the class and I've forgotten exactly what it was that made him stand out. Self preservation, I think. I can't keep all of the silly things they do at the forefront of my memory. 

Why Jessie made the blog has to do with the last thing he talked about, just before the final bell rang. 

He asked me if I wanted to cut it off. Cut what off? 

He reached around his neck and pulled out a long, narrow braid... 

A rat's tail?!?

Suddenly, I was a seventh grader again. I think that's the last time I saw one of those. They're back? Really? 

So, I said the first thing that popped into my head. 

"1983 called. They want their hairstyle back." 

But the bell rang at the same time, so Jessie did not hear me. 

I'm not upset. It was a rather weak joke. It's been made hundreds of times. Just not about rat's tails. 

Rat's tail. 

Wow. 

I did not expect to see that style return. 

One Burning Question

Last week there was one topic all over social media. The first time I saw anything about it, it was a post that sounded like this was an issue that had been known everywhere for weeks. But I got up to speed pretty quickly. 

I'm talking about the Cornell 7. 

And if you're unfamiliar, that link goes to Wikipedia. That's a pretty good summary if you're unfamiliar. I'm not going to delve into it here. 

But I do have one "hot take". Most of social media has hit most of the good talking points already, so there's no need for me to rehash. However, there is one thing I have not heard that I've been thinking. 

I've been thinking about the whole "but we can't ruin these young men's lives" people. I have one question for them: 

What terrible assault did you commit as a young man that you got away with? 

Because, seriously, if they're identifying with the perpetrators in this scenario, that does not bode well for their humanity. 

This is not really "resisting" content, though, so here's a "resisting" video. Warning: adult language. 

This video is from August, but he's been posting hot takes like this daily. 

In Process

Since sending off the raven, I haven't done much of anything. 

When I wrote last week's post, the tracking on the raven said it would arrive on Wednesday. Then, on Monday, the tracking updated to arriving on Monday, which it then did do. So, sister-in-law received her birthday present a day early instead of a day late. Woo-hoo!

But before that I managed to finish knitting the ugly slippers on camera. Proof: 

Is the video done? Of course not. 

I still have a couple bits to film. I have sent the good clips (read: I eliminated the bloopers) to my brother for editing. I won't have the opening to do any filming until next weekend, though. 

These slippers aren't entirely finished, though. I usually go around the edge there and add a crochet finishing touch. I thought I'd do a separate video about that. Not really whole video worthy, but I'm out of ideas. 

Which leads to today's question for you all. I know most of you aren't knitters or crocheters, but maybe you have an idea. What should I make next on camera? (My YouTube channel is here, so you can see what I've already done.) I haven't designed anything new in ages, and I have nothing I'm burning to make. 

Oh, and does anyone want a pair of ugly slippers? These fit my feet. (I wear size 10, double wide.) 

Still a Wanderer

I've been subbing too long. That's what this is. Because today's story has quite a bit of backstory. 

Wednesday. Senior government, special ed. Third period. 

It was day one of a three-day assignment for a teacher I did a long-term assignment for three years ago. So, I knew what the lesson plan would be going in. (And I was right.) 

As the class filed in, I greeted many students I already knew. They had been sophomores in that special ed world history class I covered in February/March of 2025. They had been a good group. A fun group. So, I wasn't too worried. 

Well, except for Ariyah. She's not a bad kid, but she had a wandering problem. 

We were to go to a launch event in the gym. California is doing a free community college thing, and there's a community college just down the street from this high school. That community college has partnered with the high school, and so personnel from the college spend the year getting the seniors all set up so they can slide right into college after graduation. 

(I ran into the end of the sequence last school year. This was the beginning.) 

I got roll taken (quickly, as I already knew most of the kiddos), and we headed out to the gym. 

Remembering the last time I was in this position, I made sure to keep an eye on Ariyah. Did she follow along to the gym? Of course not. She "had to use the restroom", which was code for meeting up with a friend. I walked on ahead to keep up with the rest of the class, but I did note when Ariyah did arrive in the gym. She took a seat in the bleachers. Whew. 

The group from the community college ran through their program. A lot of it would be new information for the seniors. 

I saw when Ariyah got up (with a friend) and walked out of the gym. Deep sigh. 

Did she return? Of course not.

But the program didn't take the whole period, so the kiddos went back to class. And Ariyah did actually return. 

So, I asked. She claimed that she had not left. I said I saw her leave. She said she had been outside with security. I could call and check. 

(Which security person? If I just call "security", I wouldn't get an answer.) 

Uh huh. Sure. But again, she's only hurting herself missing things that will be useful for her. 

Ms. M, the instructional assistant, said Mr. B gives her a long leash. So, I mentioned this in the note. The next time I had Ariyah in class, she only left for a reasonably timed restroom break. So, maybe not a major issue? I don't know for sure. Mr. B will take care of it.

Inappropriate Names?

Tuesday. Ninth grade integrated math 1A (special ed). Second period. 

Ms. G warned me that the class contained a core group of autistic boys. As I have of late found that I identify strongly with certain autistic traits (I have not been, nor will I seek to be, diagnosed as autistic), I figured we'd be just fine. 

I had met the boys before, in other classes. 

They had the usual math-type worksheet. They solved problems. Those problems had colors associated with them. If they got the correct answer, they used the correct color on the coloring sheet portion of the assignment. It's a quick way to visually see if they're doing the math right. 

The coloring sheet was of sea turtles. 

As the boys worked, they talked. And at some point, one of the boys suggested naming the turtles. 

The other boys objected. They couldn't name the turtles. I chimed in with the suggestion that there was nothing wrong with assigning names to the cartoon turtles on their papers. 

Then one of the boys commenced with the naming. "This one is Mr. T, this one is Ms. B, this one is..." 

He was using teacher names. I recognized all of them. They were all special ed teachers. Probably their current teachers, but maybe a couple from the previous year. 

Now, if the paper had been something weird, I might have objected. But they were sea turtles. It was a cute paper. I could detect no malice, nor was there any snarkiness. It was like the boy needed names he knew.

But the other boys objected strongly. "You can't name them that!" 

Again, I chimed in. "Those names are fine." 

Then the conversation went back and forth between whether they should name them that or not. 

Of course, that didn't last too long before they moved on to other topics. 

Often it is fun to be the fly on the wall, listening to their conversations. 

In Italian

Monday. Forensic science. Fifth period. 

The assignment: they were to watch the second half of a video on Amanda Knox. They had questions to answer that went along with it. 

And... I hate showing videos. The kiddos don't watch them. They talk. Do they do any of the writing they're supposed to do? Of course not. They had received the questions in the previous class period when the video was started. (I had extras if any student needed another paper.) 

So, it was the end of the period, and I was going around and collecting the work. One of the students who had spent the period ignoring the video and talking to her friend had nothing to turn in, naturally. When I pointed out that she should have been watching the video (I had repeatedly shushed her during it), she complained that she couldn't understand the video because it had been in Italian. 

Italian? Uh, no. 

I'm not going to rehash the whole Amanda Knox trial and such, but the whole ordeal took place in Italy. And, some of the people interviewed spoke in Italian. Not everyone, but yes, some of the video was in Italian. 

But the subtitles were on. The captioning was on. And when someone was speaking in Italian, on screen was the translation in English. (I watched the thing with them. No glitches. The subtitles were working.) 

I pointed out that the subtitles were on. Her reply: "I couldn't see the screen." 

Uh... So, all classrooms now have the big screen TVs that the teachers use for slide presentations as well as videos. The classroom is configured in such a way so that all the students can see the screen easily. If a student can't see the screen, they are generally moved to someplace where they can. 

Did this student say anything about having trouble seeing the screen? Nope. She just talked to her friend. 

If you want to do something, you'll find a way. If you don't, you'll find an excuse. This girl. All excuses. 

Those excuses won't help her grade, though. At least she'll have some excuses to explain to her parents as to why she doesn't have a good grade this early in the school year. 

11,000

Did you see the MN Stolen Neighbors Quilt? 

Yeah, so in Minnesota, they put together a quilt of 11,000 squares to demonstrate how many people were kidnapped by ICE in the state. That's... that's a lot of people. Just going about their lives. And then they were ripped from them, horribly, and... 

It's all very horrible. And still going on. I wonder how big the quilt for California would be. Or how big one for the whole country would be. 

Just my weekly reminder that this regime is awful, and they need to be stopped. 

There's a bill that went through the California state legislature seeking to ban police and such taking side jobs with ICE. As of writing this, I hadn't heard if Gov. Newsom signed it. Or not. 

A Raven, Kind Of

I hate deadlines. 

That raven that I've been working on is a birthday gift for my sister-in-law. Her birthday is Wednesday. 

She lives in Ohio.

So, if I wanted to get her gift to her before her birthday, I had to get it in the mail. I had hoped to mail it midweek. 

I got the body finished Tuesday. Wednesday I had hoped to get it all assembled. (And I'm already late getting this thing done to get it in the mail midweek.) 

I got the beak attached. I attached the feet to the legs and then the legs to the haunches. I attempted to attach the haunches to the body, but I ran into a bit of trouble. 

So, I detached the legs from the haunches and reattached, this time making sure to orient the feet just so. I went to attach the haunches to the body, and... 

Let me just say it did not go well. 

I tried to do it more than once. I attached, found it wasn't stitching right, and then I ripped it out. Five different times. 

Somehow one of the haunches is larger than the other. I don't know how this happened. I followed the instructions. I made two the same way. 

So, after two different nights over two hours, I gave up. I realized that I probably need to redo the haunches to make sure they are precisely the same size. 

Although, even if they were the same size, they didn't go onto the body well. I couldn't get it so the feet were under the body of the bird. They were at an angle. That's part of the reason why I kept ripping it out. 

If I had another week... 

I don't have another week. 

Then I looked at the bird... I mean, does it really need the feet? 

Ideally, I'd attach the feet. We're out of ideal territory.

I kind of like the birdie without feet. 

So, I'm declaring it done. Without feet. 

Sorry about the pictures. I took them, then packaged up the bird, and then got it into the mail. Otherwise, I'd redo them. 

I packaged everything Friday/Saturday. Got it into the mail on Saturday. Tracking shows it'll show up... Thursday. Sigh. 

Only a day late. Not ideal, but at least it's not nine months after (and counting). 

Now I really should get back to the reluctant sweater which was last Christmas' gift, but likely won't be done by this Christmas. Sigh. 

Dressed for the Wrong Occasion

Two of the most beautiful words appeared in the lesson plans for the day: student teacher. Woo-hoo!

It was eleventh grade U.S. history, so I wasn't expecting difficulties, anyway. (I've subbed for this teacher many times in the past. Her classes are generally fine.) But all I had to do was input the roll and keep track of restroom passes. The student teacher, Mr. B, did all the actual work of teaching the kiddos. 

The lesson was on inventions that made life easier. I wasn't really paying attention, though. I was more focused on how the students were dressed. 

It was a spirit week. That's a week where the school encourages the kiddos to dress up to various themes of the day. I mentioned Adam Sandler day on Wednesday. I was at other schools for jersey day and "Anything but a Backpack" day. (Kiddos carry their stuff in something other than a backpack. Look it up on social media. It can be hilarious.) And I would miss the assembly on Friday where they were told to wear black. 

But this day, Thursday, they were to dress for the wrong occasion. And many participated in interesting ways. 

I caught a few students in Christmas gear. More beachy stuff, though. One boy in class wore an inner tube along with board shorts. (He was dressed for a pool party.) There were girls in fancy dresses. Two teachers were dressed in marathon gear. (Ms. V, who does run marathons, said it was very comfortable to wear her marathon stuff that day.) And many students came to school in their pajamas. (No pajama day this spirit week. That day tends to be the most popular.) 

It was kinda fun to laugh at some of the ensembles. I marveled at wintery gear as it's still in the 80s here, but the kiddos clearly understood the assignment. 

What would you dress as? The idea is that they're dressed wrong, and of course, they were at school. So, if that was the assignment, to dress for the wrong occasion, what occasion would you dress for? 

Taking the Assignment

About three weeks ago, I got an email from a teacher asking if I would be able to cover her class. Of course, I replied. 

Then last Friday I got another email from her. Ms. S was going to be out on Wednesday of the next week. Could I cover her class? 

I was already booked for Tuesday and Friday. The Friday I'd be working for her. I would be glad to take the assignment. 

The district does some things weirdly. It took them forever to get with the times and get the sub scheduling app. (Like, they were a good decade, or more, behind the neighboring districts.) And, in their infinite wisdom, they have decided that if a teacher wants to request a specific sub, they have to have a person at the district office input that into the system. 

So, since it was late on a Friday, I knew I wouldn't get the booking until Monday. Not a problem, really. 

Monday morning, I did not get called in. So, I was playing games on my phone when a job popped up. Because of how fast the open jobs go, I grabbed for it. It was only after looking at it after I managed to snag it did I notice that it was for Wednesday. The Wednesday I agreed to cover Ms. S's class. Deep sigh. 

So, do I cancel the job and hope the one I said I'd do pops up? Or do I keep the one that I now have? 

They can, at the district office, drop me from any assignments I have and reassign me. And, it I happened to grab the assignment when they were putting the other in, I might have missed it already. It was hard to tell. So, I stuck with the assignment I grabbed. 

It was a history assignment at the same school. And it went fine. (I won't be mentioning it any more as nothing very interesting happened.)

At least I worked that day. Things have been a little slow, but we're only just getting into the second month of the school year. Slow is standard for this time of year. 

Not That Alert

Tuesday. Middle school yearbook. Seventh period.

It was Adam Sandler day. Which meant everyone was dressed in shorts, sloppy t-shirts, sandals, and a baseball cap worn sideways or backwards. 

The yearbook staff was coming up with interview questions. They're going to have to go out and talk to their fellow students to get quotes for the yearbook. But, middle schoolers. Some weren't so very focused. (But things could have gone a lot worse.)

Mostly, I was keeping track of restroom passes. 

It's become a thing. We only allow one student out of class at a time, but each student takes a while, so there ends up being a line for the restroom. Keeping track can take half my attention most days. 

So, when the student asked to go while someone was out, I gave my usual response. "As soon as the student who's out gets back." 

While we were waiting, three other students asked to go. As usual. They got added to the continuing list. The last student who asked got a no response, however. We were at maybe twenty minutes left of class, and by the time the previous three went and returned, we'd definitely be at less than ten minutes left of class. We're not supposed to let students out that close to the end of the period. 

The girl returned. I called for the boy to go. He did not hear me. He was sucked into his phone. (Because it was yearbook, because they had come up with interview questions, because it was that kind of day, those are all reasons why phones were out and I wasn't making an issue of them.) 

Well, fine, then. If he wasn't going to go, then I'd go to the next person on the list. 

After she had left, and by that I mean that she had been gone for a couple minutes, the boy again asked. What happened when I called for him? But, it was ten minutes until the end of the period. So, even when the girl came back, I wasn't going to let anyone else go.

"But I really have to go..."

I mean, how serious was that need that he was completely tuned out when the person we were waiting for to return returned, and he didn't notice? When kiddos need to go, they usually are watching that door. (And the girl was not gone that long.) 

I told him he could go after the bell rang. At that point it was something like seven minutes until the end of the period. 

The time passed. The bell rang. The students filed out. The boy? I found him sitting in one of the nice chairs in the entryway to the classroom after I had done my final check and I was ready to leave. 

"I thought you really, really needed to use the restroom." 

I guess it wasn't as critical as he was making it out to be.

Pregnancy Danger

Abortion bans kill women. 

I stumbled upon a thread in Bluesky last week about how the rate of ectopic pregnancy deaths had more than doubled in recent years. TL;DR: Abortion bans are at least partially to blame. There was an article in ProPublica all about it. 

Pregnancy can be dangerous anyway. Abortion bans make it worse. 

But that's what a certain segment of the population wants, and the regime is pandering to them. It's in the authoritarian playbook. Control women. If it kills them, so what? So long as the men keep their power. 

So, let's have the EPA test for abortion pills in the water. It's not like there's anything else they need to do. *stares meaningfully* 

Maybe I'll write postcards to swing districts. It's something, anyway.

Winging It

There is a Crochet Procedure that frequently appears in patterns. You start with a round (or an oval) of, like, 12 stitches. Then you increase it by six by crocheting one and then increasing in the next stitch, which consists of crocheting two stitches into the next stitch. 

That pattern (crochet one, increase one, giving you three stitches in the current round where there were two stitches in the previous round) is so common that when I saw it in the raven pattern, I barely read it, and just commenced with the increases. 

The next round consisted of crocheting two and then doing the increase. And the following round was crocheting three and then increasing. Easy. I've done this many, many times before.

So, why could I not get the stupid thing to work this time? 

I mean, I counted carefully. I got twelve stitches in the first round. I did the increase, and somehow I was a stitch off. But I counted, and I had 18 stitches. Okay, then.

But five times I got to the round where I was supposed to have 30, and I was off. By, like, a lot. 

I have no explanation for this. I counted. I worked into each stitch. Of course, I'm working in black, so it's harder to see, but how did I mess it up that badly? 

On Saturday I attempted it again. In better lighting. And still... I ripped it out twice before finally getting to the round of 30 and actually having 30 stitches. Whew. 

(Just in case you were wondering what was blocking me from making progress. For three weeks. Yeah, the wings.) 

Luckily, wing two went much easier once I brute forced my way into getting wing one done. 

Seriously, I have no explanation for why this was so freaking hard. It shouldn't have been.

Deadline's fast approaching, and with the wings done, I could finally start on the main body. 

Alana, see that tail thing at the back (on the right side in the picture)? In round 13, that's where the chain went. And then in the following rounds, you just work over that chain, and it builds out, adding to the body. At least, that's what I think the pattern meant. 

Hopefully that was the last major glitch. I managed to do that whole increase thing on the body with no issues. Why I had trouble with the wings perplexes me. 

Identification Snafu

Friday. Peer counseling/mental health class, third period. 

(This class was a new one for me. The teacher has been with the school for several years, and I believe she taught this last year as well. As for how long she's taught it, I couldn't tell you.

It's kind of a psychology class, at least that's the foundation. But it's more geared towards teaching the kiddos about themselves with a bit about teaching them to do peer counseling through a couple programs at the school. I think. At least, that's what I gleaned.) 

This was my second day in the class. I had been there on Wednesday as well. (They're on a block schedule, so each class meets every other day.) And they had been generally okay. (Fifth period, which came after, was horrible. But, of a class of 33, five of them weren't freshmen. Age makes a difference.) 

However, this day got an extra degree of difficulty. It was pass-out-their-IDs day. And that's when they learned that they were now required to wear their IDs on campus all day. 

They did not like this.

And, the passing out of IDs did not go smoothly. Not at all. 

Having gotten a heads-up, I had gone to the teacher's mailbox to get the IDs and lanyards that I would need to pass out. But, there were not 27 IDs in the stack I got. It felt short, and then I counted. Yup, I was about 10 IDs short. 

As the announcement went out that they were getting their IDs, I held them up to show the kiddos that yup, they were getting them for sure. But not everyone. Once the IDs I had went to the proper students, I gave the students missing an ID a lanyard for when their IDs showed up. 

You'd think they'd be happy they didn't get an ID. Nope. A couple of those without IDs were visibly upset that theirs had not arrived. And those that got them? Yeah, not happy with them. (They hated their pictures. I can relate. I hate my employee ID picture as well. And they let me retake it when I got it.) 

Then I got a call from the office. They listed off seven names. Could I send them to the office? They had their IDs. 

So, at least a few of them were happy to get IDs. 

To say the rollout of this was a mess... Yeah, that did not go well. 

But then again, having worked for this district for a while, yeah, that snafu is an acronym really, really applies here. 

(Some people have a word for each new year. Something they strive for. I am beginning to feel like this school year has a word, and it's snafu.) 

Phone Forgotten

I was out the door on time Wednesday morning, even, maybe, a bit early. It was supposed to be a blazing hot day (we ended up with a high of 105°F--that's 41℃). I had been sweltering all night, and I was already drenched in sweat before leaving the house. 

I had noticed the day before that my usual route to work was under construction, so I took a slightly different route. Traffic wasn't an issue. Things were going well. 

And then, my Apple Watch buzzed. "Cell phone left behind". 

I was ten minutes away from my house. Do I go back for it? Do without? Do I have time to go back for it?

Well, no. I didn't really have time to go back for it. But, I turned around and went back for it, anyway. 

Now, of course, on the way back, I hit more traffic. Certain spots get congested with to-school traffic. And I knew. I made the wrong choice. I was going to be late. 

I called the school secretary. I have the school phone number on my phone, and I knew her extension, so while stopped at a red light, I called. I decided not to explain, just to apologize and say I was going to be late, but I would be there. Apparently there was an accident on the freeway, so she assumed that I was stuck in that. I did not correct her. 

I drove past the main office just in time to hear the one minute warning bell. I parked shortly after the bell rang to start first period. I joined the group of students coming into campus late. Security was there. She saw me. "You're for room 209?" Yup, that's me. She said that security had let the students into class. 

I had told the secretary I might be about ten minutes late. Turned out it was only five-ish minutes into the period when I got to the room. So, not too bad. 

The class was "early college academy" aka a college credit class they can take in high school. So, the kiddos had already gotten their computers and were logged in to the work they needed to do (presumably--they might have been doing something else as well, like typical high school students). 

I made sure that the official stuff got done (attendance, introductions, etc.), and then while they worked, I settled in for the day. By the end of class, I was in the rhythm of the school. And I needed my feet under me, as the other classes, especially the last class of the day, didn't go nearly as smoothly. 

The expectation is that we're supposed to be on campus about a half hour before school begins. So, by that metric I was very late. But we don't really get into trouble if we get there a bit later than that. We do need to be in class when school officially begins, though, so that was a fail. But, I haven't been that late on a day when I booked the assignment at a reasonable time in a very long time. (I have been late for very late calls, but that's another thing entirely.) 

Such a Cliché

Tuesday. Eighth grade U.S. history, fourth period. 

Mr. R, who was on campus at some meeting or other, told me that his fourth period class was really good, his sixth period class was meh, and his eighth period class... Well, he'd be stopping by to get them started off in the right way. 

(Note: Mr. R did drop by eighth period. He did talk to them about how they should behave. And they proceeded to spend the period not behaving well at all. Unsurprisingly.) 

So, I had high expectations for fourth period. Which they did not meet. Deep sigh.

The bell had barely rung when I noted a boy folding paper. I didn't look too closely as I was busy taking attendance. They were supposed to be doing a quick write and then reading in their textbook. (Mr. R had written the list of what they needed to do on the board. It was very clear.)

Hutton (the boy folding paper) then turned and passed the paper back to the boy in the seat two seats behind him. As Winston received it, I could see what it now was. A paper airplane. 

"How cliché." 

Yes, I said that. However, eighth graders do not know what cliché means. 

(They also do not know what it means to abbreviate nor do they know what state abbreviates to Conn. Those are two questions I got repeatedly all day.) 

Winston handed off the paper airplane to Axel who then did the obvious thing with it. Just as I said not to. 

To his credit, Axel did retrieve it and then threw it out. 

If it had stopped there, well, no harm done. But those three boys... They had lost their focus, and no matter what I did, they could not figure out how to do the assignments. 

(They were to compare and contrast the Pilgrims and the Puritans. Then they had a map of the 13 colonies to label and color. It wasn't hard, and they had all the stuff they needed. Well, except their attention.) 

It was a problem I had with them all day. I directed them on what to do. I pointed out that it was all written on the board for their reference. I passed out papers and gave them instructions on the next thing when the previous thing should have been completed. But eighth graders with a sub. It just wasn't happening. 

So, I resorted to my usual consequence for these sorts of things. I left names. 

The next even day (the school is on a block schedule), I was sitting in sixth period, minding a very good class, when Mr. R walked in. He had notes of apology to deliver. 

He had had a conversation with Hutton, Winston, and Axel. And they were required to express their contrition in writing. 

(Mr. R was just going to leave the notes with the secretary to give to me, but she informed him that I was on campus.) 

Apology notes are always fun. Hopefully, the boys learned something from the exercise. 

Lies and More Lies

Apparently there was some sort of midterm "convention" in Texas that the regime decided to have. And it was just as cringey as you'd expect. 

But this worries me. Especially that sound bite that got out, the one about them promising $5000 to everyone if they win. 

We know this is a lie. We know this is completely ridiculous. The problem is, those low-information voters do not know this. 

This reminds me of the whole "free IVF" thing that got floated before the presidential election. We all knew it was hogwash. And yet, after, I saw news reports of deluded women saying they voted for him because they had heard that and believed it. 

We need to make it crystal clear that the $5000 thing is a lie. Because there are people out there that heard that sound bite, and now they think it's really a thing in play. Can we get the Dems to put out something similar? It doesn't have to be true. It just has to get to the ears of those who would believe it. 

Have Feet Now

I had it in my head that the smallish project I started last week would be done by now. Alas, no. I basically did not touch it until Saturday. I added two more pieces to the pile.

Feet...

Alana nailed it in the comments last week. This, when all is said and done, will be a raven. The pattern is here. 

I wasn't very loquacious last week--I didn't want to talk about it. But my world has cooled off, and I can think again, so I'll explain my reasoning. 

Generally, when one does amigurumi, one does the body first, and then makes the little bits that get attached. But, because I was using this as a take along project (and I didn't want to carry stuffing), I decided to do it backwards. 

This has the extra added bonus of when I do actually complete the body, I'll have done the bits and bobs already, so all I'll have to do then is assemble. I don't know if it'll make things easier for me, but maybe. 

Why am I making a raven? It's a birthday present. So, there's a deadline. But as long as it doesn't heat up this week, I should be okay. Fingers crossed.