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.