Observed

Thursday. Eighth grade math, special ed. Third period.

It was a complete-the-online-assignment day, and half the class said they were already done. (On a newly-assigned assignment? Not likely.) I noted who said they were done and left that information for the teacher. 

The phone rang. It was the health office letting me know they were sending over someone to observe the kiddo in the class who already had a one-to-one aide, but they didn't want the student to know. Something about a seizure disorder. 

I don't question when staff shows up in class. We have various observers for various things all the time. One day the new principal showed up while I was doing something with a class. I didn't know who he was or why he was there, but he was with another staff member I did know, so I kept doing what I was doing. Another time, the new district superintendent showed up in class. Again, she was with a staff member I did know. And again, I kept doing what I was doing until we had a moment to talk. 

So, when the staff member, who I did recognize from seeing around campus, showed up, I just kept doing what I was doing. (Read: watching the kiddos play games on their computers rather than do the assignment.) 

But, now there were two other adults watching one kiddo. And they questioned what he was supposed to be doing. So, he dutifully found the actual assignment. And then got stuck. 

Well, that part was my job. 

They were turning word problems into equations. It wasn't too hard, but the kiddos were having trouble deciphering whether they needed to add, subtract, multiply, or divide. 

The kiddo did not have any seizures while in class. (They don't usually.) But at least he got some math done. 

Out to Lunch

As I mentioned yesterday, Monday and Wednesday I was back at the adult transition center. It's been a while since I got to be there, so it was nice to see the school again. The students, however, are ones I met at the high schools now. The ones who were there when I was there for practically a school year have since aged out. 

On Monday we were supposed to go on Community Based Instruction, or CBI. Basically this means we leave school to go out to lunch. But, with the last minute call out of the teacher and with several of the students having not brought money, it had to be cancelled. Which was a disappointment as we were supposed to go out to celebrate the birthdays of two of the instructional assistants. (Yes, both of their birthdays were March 9th.) 

But Ms. J left us stuff to do, so we did that. 

Then I went back on Wednesday. And Ms. J told me they were going to go out to Chili's. So, I headed to the school, expecting us to go out for the day. 

But, of course, things did not go smoothly. 

First, a couple students hadn't brought money (even though this was their usual CBI day). Then, they thought about changing our destination, but we couldn't do that without principal approval (and she wasn't on campus at that moment). 

Eventually, it all got straightened out, and we headed out. To the bus stop. It wasn't a long distance, but we had a student in a wheelchair, and the bus was easier. Then we had a half hour to wait until the Chili's opened. We took over one whole section. 

I sat with two students. Josie had brought a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. She had money, but she didn't want to spend it on lunch. 

After we ate, we headed across the (busy) street to the Dollar Tree. There, Josie spent her money. On nail polish and lip balm. As one of the instructional assistants said she would. 

I mean, that's impressive. I would have wanted lunch. But no, Josie knew she'd rather have something else, so she made sure to bring other food from school so she wouldn't be tempted. 

Then to the bus and back to school. 

It's good practice for the students. And it was fun to get out again during the school day. It's been a while since I got to go out for CBI. 

Booking the Week

Monday morning, sometime after midnight, I finally caught an assignment for Monday. I had tried to grab a couple before this, but both informed me that another sub had taken the assignment when I clicked on the book button. So, I was just happy to be working. 

Monday is the late start day, so I was lazily on my phone as I had a whole half hour before I needed to leave when the sub desk called. Would I be willing to switch to the adult transition center? Well, sure. But that meant I had to leave... right then... and I wasn't dressed yet... 

I managed to make it, but just. 

The adult transition center is where the very special ed kiddos go after they age out of high school. I basically spent the 2021-22 school year there. So, while the students are different, I know the drill. (The teachers I covered at that time retired, hence why I ended up there, so there are new-to-me teachers there now.) 

Tuesday I didn't catch an assignment. Sigh. But Ms. J, from Monday, reached out to say she was going to be out again Wednesday, and I did I want to work? I managed to catch the assignment again. (Whew.) 

Turns out, Ms. J probably shouldn't have worked Tuesday. She's really sick. As is one of the instructional aides. As well as a couple students. What can I say? It's going around. 

Then, Wednesday night, Ms. J again asked if I could cover her again. I was totally willing, but I had an assignment for Thursday. Considering how I can try to book an assignment only to have another sub snatch it out from under me, I had concerns. Ms. J said she'd contact the school (who would then contact the sub desk who can just assign me). 

But Thursday...? Yeah, I ended up working the assignment I had previously booked. Hey, I was working that day. That's the important thing. 

This year it's been harder to book jobs. More subs, I think. Which means the schools have far fewer days where a teacher (or multiple teachers) don't have their very own subs. But it makes it harder for us subs to work every day. 

Housing Bill

This popped up in my feed last week. (If you can't see the video, here's the link.)

Or, if you want written, here's an article about it: Senate approves sweeping bipartisan housing bill, but roadblocks remain in the House. 

And this sounds like a good idea. This might be something to call your congressional reps about, if you're so inclined. 

Seamingly On Track

Well, I made some forward progress. I attached both sleeves:

And I got set up to sew up the side seams:

And that's about it. Sigh. 

Hey, it's something. Although, I really need to get this done. Like now. At least, if I plan to mail it with my brother's birthday gift, and have that, at least, arrive on time. 

I don't like deadlines. 

Anyway... I need your help. Have you heard of Humble Bundle? It's a website that sells digital libraries. Well, it sells video games and computer books, but it also sells other sorts of books. About a month ago they did a bundle of all of Terry Pratchett's Discworld novels, and I grabbed that one so fast... 

Right now they're offering digital copies of 26 crochet books/booklets. And... I don't need more crochet patterns. Not really. I mean, the amigurumi book looks interesting. But there are books of afghan patterns and baby layettes. (Neither of which I need. At all.)

Please talk me out of getting this. I am so tempted. The price is great. The money goes to charity. But I have books and magazines and so many patterns. I can resist this. 

The sweater's previous posts:

• Starting the Sweater
• Getting to the Back
• Missed Deadline
• Distractions from Knitting
• A Month Late
• Inching Along
• Tracking the Growth
• Weekly Sweater Update
• Moving Right Along
• Good Progress
• Almost to the Interesting Part
• Plot Twist
• Not Worth the Effort
• Sleeve Progress
• Continuing Sleeve One
• Sleeve Two!
• Continuing Sleeve Two
• Setting a Deadline
• Almost There
• How I Keep Track
• Some Assembly Required
• Missed Winter

Scared of Girls

Friday. Tenth grade world history, special ed. Fifth period. 

Because it was a special ed class, I had an instructional assistant. Ms. M warned me about fifth period. Specifically, about the three boys on the baseball team. They would likely be late. Why? 

The classroom is located on the end of the building. There's an outer door that opens into a kind of foyer. If you head straight ahead, you find the classroom. Right next to the classroom, if you head to the left instead of straight, is the girls' restroom. (And next door to that is a locked faculty restroom. Very convenient.) 

These three boys... don't want to be seen near the girls' restroom. Or be seen by the girls in the restroom? The aversion is unclear. 

So, passing period. I prop open the classroom door to make sure the kiddos will enter (and not hover outside). Angelo and Kyson whooshed into the room, headed for the table next to the TV (if you look at the above photo, there's a standing desk to the right of the TV; that's where they were). They turned towards the whiteboard, and hid their faces. 

They would not be convinced to go to their seats, not until the door was closed. 

Deep sigh. 

The bell rang. I closed the door. And Angelo and Kyson took their seats. Soon thereafter, Noah whooshed into the room. He made sure that door closed behind him.

And... I... Huh? 

Ms. M made the comment, out of their hearing, that it wasn't like they had to go through the girls' restroom to get to the classroom. 

I am very familiar with this classroom. Exactly a year ago, I was doing a long term in this very classroom (for a vacant class). And I could not tell you what the girls' restroom looks like. I've never been in there. 

But for some reason, those boys (and only those boys) do not want to be seen by the girls. 

While the door was closed, Angelo, Kyson, and Noah were fine. Well, not "fine". Noah claimed he had already completed the day's new assignment (it had been posted first thing in the morning, so he could have accessed it in his previous classes), and so he spent the period moving about and getting his lunch (he had a baseball game later that day). 

The three boys were not well-behaved. 

About a half hour before the end of the period, Noah and Kyson had to leave for their game. They stood before the door, waiting for the minute they could go, but they opened the door just a crack. Just to look. 

They begged to leave early. Well, earlier. Nope. 

I guess they were trying to get out while the coast was clear. Of girls. 

The second they could go... whoosh. 

That's... that's a new one on me. Wow.

Sophomore Meltdown

Wednesday. Tenth grade English, special ed. Seventh period.

It's district writing assessment time, and that includes the special ed students. Ms. C gave me very specific instructions on what to do. 

Their routine is to grab a Chromebook, log in, and do a warmup. But we were switching things up so they'd have more time to write. As I got class started, I informed the class they wouldn't need their Chromebooks, so would they please put them back. 

Adrian was not pleased. While the rest of the class put their computers back and I passed out the packets they'd need for their writing, Adrian wailed. He did not want to give up his computer. 

Luckily (or maybe obviously), Adrian had a one-to-one aide. Mr. J went over to Adrian and pointed out that Adrian was disrupting the class. Adrian needed to put his Chromebook back. 

Adrian? Laid on the floor. Wailing. 

One is not often treated to a fifteen-year-old throwing a toddler temper tantrum. At least he wasn't flailing his limbs and screaming. 

While the rest of the class looked on, Mr. J calmly pointed out that Adrian was disrupting the class, and maybe Adrian needed to take a little walk to calm down. Adrian didn't like that idea. He didn't want to be in trouble. And somehow that got Adrian off the floor. He put away his computer. And we continued class. 

Of course Adrian complained about the essay. And the topic. (They had an argumentative essay. Topic: the space program--continued funding, yea or nay.) And he objected to how they spelled "center" in the articles they were to use as their sources. (Apparently Adrian is obsessed with English spelling and said it should be "centre". Well, if he wants English spellings, fine.) 

Did Adrian finish the essay? Nope. But he did actually write something. So, that's a win. 

Dude-Bros

Monday. Esports. Fifth period. 

I mean, it's a class where they play video games. Cake, right?

I was walking the room, making sure the students weren't doing anything stupid, as is my job. And I got pulled into conversation with three boys... Deep sigh. You know this isn't going to go well. 

So, there was a lot going on. And in retrospect it's hard to remember what bit came first. In the note to their teacher, I explained them thusly: They didn’t seem to be doing much other than being provocative. 

Marco found a totally inappropriate game to play. (Title: Five Nights at Epstein's. Normally I'd search it up so I could link to it for you, but no.) I pointed out the inappropriateness of this endeavor, but Marco didn't see my point. His compatriots logged in and played the game, too. They claimed that Mr. P wouldn't mind. Sure he wouldn't. 

Jorge explained to me how the Jews controlled everything. I countered with how wrong and racist that whole argument was. I even pointed out how the people pushing those theories were the very ones who were backing ICE and such. And, that since the three boys were varying shades of Latino, they were directly targeting them. No dice. 

And the three of them actively mocked the very special ed kids who were also in the class. Those kiddos weren't in the room at the time, so I didn't realize what they were doing, but in retrospect, it was clear. 

The instructional assistant that came with the special ed kiddos is someone I have worked with many times. She clued me in. This was Mr. P's worst class. Obviously. And the maturity level of those boys was the main reason for it. 

Which leads me to believe that much of the problems currently in our country have to do with these kinds of dude-bros being too stupid to realize that they're stupid. We're spending way too much time trying to appeal to their better natures. Sadly, they don't have better natures...

I mean, we can hope those kiddos will grow out of it. I don't know. I think they were an object lesson to me. Don't bother. The rest of that class was fine. Focus on them. Not the dude-bros who don't even realize that they're the ultimate losers in this particular game.

Too Much News

I don't know what I want to wail about today. Do I mention the moving forward of the building and staffing of the concentration camps?

• Construction Contracts Awarded for ICE Detention Facilities in Maryland and Arizona
• A "Humanitarian Response" Firm With No Federal Contract History Is Staffing Planned Immigration Detention Center in Maryland
• For ICE to build concentration camps quickly, they're leaning on this 'Dept. of War' program
• Texas’ one-of-a-kind concentration camp for children and families
• How a Planned Disney World Vacation Turned Into Four Months in Immigration Detention

Or do I talk about how the main thing the regime wants is to enrich themselves?

• Documents Reveal a Web of Financial Ties Between Trump Officials and the Industries They Help Regulate
• Explore Financial Disclosures From President Trump and 1,500 of His Appointees
• The Case For Billionaire Realism

Or maybe about how whack-a-doodle they are about the Middle East?

• US commanders want to make war with Iran as ‘bloody’ as possible to bring about biblical end times, officers report

It's hard to narrow it down, really. I want to talk about all of this. And more. There's just too much to keep track of. Why did this madman have to become president? Why?

Missed Winter

I have just been so tired. I was dragging all week. I'd get home from work, eat something, and then close my eyes... After a long nap, then it was time to get ready for bed. Sigh.

But I did manage to sew the shoulder seams. 

And that was all. Sigh.

So, I have officially missed the winter with this sweater. I mean, unless, is it still cold where you are? (We have finished our cold winter weather. I switched my bedding to my summer sheets.) 

Maybe this week I'll get it done? I really don't have a good excuse at this point.

At least eldest nephew will get to wear this next winter.

The sweater's previous posts:

• Starting the Sweater
• Getting to the Back
• Missed Deadline
• Distractions from Knitting
• A Month Late
• Inching Along
• Tracking the Growth
• Weekly Sweater Update
• Moving Right Along
• Good Progress
• Almost to the Interesting Part
• Plot Twist
• Not Worth the Effort
• Sleeve Progress
• Continuing Sleeve One
• Sleeve Two!
• Continuing Sleeve Two
• Setting a Deadline
• Almost There
• How I Keep Track
• Some Assembly Required

A Likely Story

Friday. Twelfth grade English. Second period. 

It was almost an hour into the ninety-minute period (block schedule) when Jocelyn arrived. She asked if her friend, who didn't have a second period, could "hang out" in class with her.  

While Jocelyn informed her friend that she'd have to go elsewhere, I noticed that Jocelyn had handed me a yellow late pass. The pass said 8:39. It was 9:24. 

When Jocelyn returned to me to get the day's assignment, I asked her where she'd been for the better part of an hour. 

Jocelyn explained how there was a long line in the office to get a late pass, how she picked up a random yellow pass from the counter, and how the time stamps on those passes didn't mean anything, really. 

All of this? Lies. 

Rather than get into an argument with Jocelyn, I nodded, and she sat down and got to work. 

After second period was snack. I went to the attendance office. 

I told the clerk what Jocelyn had told me. As expected, she laughed. 

When a student arrives late, they get a pass. The attendance clerk stamps the pass with the time stamp machine. Then they're shooed to class. Most students arrive at class within a couple minutes of that time. (If the class is far from the office, it might be closer to five minutes.) 

If the student is more than a half hour late, the attendance office switches from yellow passes to red passes. Student gets it time stamped. Then the attendance office inputs the tardy as "excessive". 

The attendance clerk said that Jocelyn's grandmother had called the school wondering why Jocelyn had so many tardies. So, the clerk said she'd call Jocelyn out of class the next period and they could call the grandmother and talk to her on the phone together. 

Only... 

The next period the school had an assembly. (It was to celebrate students with good grades. It was beach themed. Perfect, actually as it was a 95℉ day.) I actually saw Jocelyn. She arrived late. She left early. And then I saw her strolling around campus when my class returned to class. Because, of course. 

I checked the attendance software, just to see. Jocelyn had been marked truant for both my period and the period after. The clerk left a note that she had been unable to find Jocelyn in the next class. 

Jocelyn is a senior. We're about one quarter away from graduation. I hope she doesn't miss it due to how much class she's been missing. 

From the Garden

I finally got to go back to the continuation high school. (And now I'm sort of shadow banned, but that's a whole different blog post.) 

Wednesday. English. 

As it was Wednesday, it was gardening day. Unlike the last time I pulled this gig, this time we actually could work in the garden. 

There was a "garden ranger" who ran the class. She did a short lecture on natural versus chemically derived ingredients, had them make some tea, and had them do some planting and pruning. 

(At various points she videoed the kiddos. Apparently, there's a program to bring gardening into schools. Here's their Instagram. And here's one of the videos she shot that day.) 

Fourth period. She had brought in some mint plants, and the earlier periods had found a spot to plant them and weeded the area. Fourth period got to plant them. She had them lay out the plants in a sort of grid. 

Seth took his shovel, and he stuck it where he wanted it. He jumped on the shovel, pounding it into the ground. He methodically did this three more times, and very quickly created a hole large enough to put the mint plant in. Clearly he had done this sort of thing before.

Seth explained that his grandmother had an award winning garden. It looked like he had assisted her. 

After they had planted about half the plants, Seth invited me to plant one.

Well, didn't want to, really. So, I gave some excuses. My hand hurt. I didn't have the strength. Etcetera. 

Seth? Yeah, he called me out on that. Shot down my arguments. And fair, really. 

I'm usually the one making the kiddos do things they don't want to. This period I had two students who were unwilling to "get dirty" (there are sinks; they can wash their hands after), and I was urging them to work. So, I'm not doing it? I knew I had to. 

So, I did. Slowly. And badly. But I managed to dig a hole with Seth's guidance. And he put the mint in the ground. 

I got a bit of sun that day. And many of the kiddos did kind of enjoy it. It looks like it's a great program.

The Stench

Tuesday. Seventh grade English. Sixth period.

The day had gone pretty well. But the instructional assistant warned me of one kiddo in period six. His seat was separate from the class for reasons. Okay, then. 

As I was getting the class going, the IA reminded Enzo of where his seat was. In the back, next to the door. I recognized Enzo; he had been in the art class (well, likely still is). 

The class settled into the assignment. They were reading something and answering questions. But laughter floated from Enzo's corner of the room. The table near to Enzo was enjoying Enzo's antics. Deep sigh. 

But then, that section of the room erupted in exclamations of horror. Enzo had farted, and they did not like the smell. I did the only thing I could. I ignored this. 

Enzo asked to use the restroom. 

Later, when the class had calmed down, and the table near Enzo seemed to be working, Enzo asked if he could go outside. 

My initial answer: no. But then I considered.

So, I went over to Enzo and asked him why. Yeah, he needed to fart again. 

Yes, please, take that nonsense outside. 

Enzo got no work done. If he had spent half the energy doing the assignment that he spent avoiding the assignment, he would have been done. But no. 

Alas, some of them never learn that particular lesson. 

At least we didn't have a repeat of the stench from earlier in the period. 

Ugh

I saw this video on Saturday (yesterday as I write this), and it's kind of where I'm at right now. I'm Gen X (not a Millennial), but I can relate. (Link to video.)

So, this week I just want to be, you know? What's something you find joy in? Let us all find a little joy this week while the world does what it's doing around us. 

Not the Project I Should Be Working On

So, after finishing the knitting of the sweater I today have a fully finished sweater to show you? Of course not. I didn't touch the sweater all week. 

(I had a rough week last week. Even so, I could have pulled out the sweater and started the seaming process, but no.) 

But when I go and visit my father on Saturdays, I bring along a project to have something to do with my hands. And seaming that sweater was not a bring-along project. Time to find something new...

Do you remember the beanie I knit for middle nephew for Christmas? 

After my father modeled the thing, I offered to knit him one. When I had time. Well, now I have time.

I haven't gotten very far: 

I decided to flip the colors, so the purple will be the mesh thing on top. I was kind of curious how that will play out. 

I will not, however, tell you how long it took to find those size 6 needles that I needed to start the ribbing with. It turned out they were actually in the first bag I looked in, only in a front pocket because they weren't in use. I only checked that front pocket after tearing apart every other place those needles could be, at 11 o'clock at night, so I'd have something to work on the next day.

Sigh.

Of course, I'm going to need the size 8 needles for the collar of the sweater as well as the two-color portion of the beanie, so we'll see if that gets me working on the sweater, or if this beanie gets finished rather quickly.