Drawing Inferences

Wednesday. Seventh grade English. 

This was a new-to-me teacher. (She's also new to the school, but she's not new to the district. Last year she was at the continuation high school. I saw some gigs pop up from her, but I always missed them.) The classroom she's in used to belong to an eighth grade history teacher (who retired at the end of the last school year). 

(For fun I went into the archives. I subbed for Mr. C in this room on this day and on this day.)

Ms. V had left very detailed lesson plans. She had written their detailed agenda on the board. What could go wrong? 

Seventh graders. 

They were to read a excerpt from the novel Feed in their textbook, and they had questions to go along with it. This is a very basic, very standard type of assignment for a sub day. It should have been easy. 

But nope. I offered to have us read the story as a class. No, they could read it on their own. But, they were not reading. I pointed out that reading requires them to not be talking, because one can't talk and read at the same time. I mean, I'm way old (compared to them), and I can't do it, so I know they can't do it. 

They did not see my point. They claimed they could read and talk. (If they were reading together, that would have been fine, but that sounds a whole lot different than random conversations that have nothing to do with the assignment.) 

But somehow, they got to the point where they were answering the questions. And I got the same question from several of them. Do we have to draw? 

Draw? I went to investigate. 

The question asked them to "draw an inference" from the text. Two of the characters were having a conversation, but the text explicitly stated that the two characters were not speaking. So, how were they having the conversation? 

The excerpt was from a sci-fi novel where everyone is implanted with a computer feed. I'm hazy on details as I haven't read the book, but I quickly inferred that they were using this computer feed to telepathically (or something) communicate, maybe like texting. 

The problem? They had no idea what "infer" meant. (Although, from the context of the question, it should have been clear they were writing an answer, not drawing a picture.) 

After explaining this three times, it was time to explain it to the whole class, as there comes a point when it's clear that most of the class will have the same question, and repeating the answer for each and every student gets tedious quickly. 

Were they able to infer? Well, kind of. When I explained that they had to figure it out even though it wasn't stated in the text, they got that. But, they were also seventh graders with a sub. They weren't working as diligently as they might with their teacher. 

Although, when I left my note about how many of them weren't making very good use of their time, Ms. V emailed back that she had similar problems with them not doing their work. 

I was very much not surprised at that. I could infer from their behavior that they were not in the habit of taking their schoolwork seriously. Seventh graders. Some of them will learn the hard way that they should really take their schoolwork seriously. 

Expecting the Call

Tuesday. Third period, prep period. 

I was covering a teacher who had one period of business math and two periods of credit recovery. It was a fairly quiet day where my biggest concern was the cell phone usage. (They're supposed to put their phones away during class time. They didn't.) 

After first period (they're on a block schedule) is snack. And when I have that next class free, I usually don't run out to the restroom as I'll have time during class. But I felt a little push. Something told me to go during snack. 

The bell rang to start third period. I settled in. And then the classroom phone rang. And I just knew. 

Yup. Could I cover another class? Art. A teacher I had subbed for before (and who I've talked to many times). 

I mean, I get paid for the extra period. And it's not like it was a difficult class.

And it wasn't a difficult class. It was a scramble initially. The period had begun, and security had let the kiddos into the room. I was kinda late. (Not my fault if they call me after the class started.) 

There were no lesson plans on the desk. Clearly, this teacher had called out late. (This happens. It's likely why they didn't get her a whole day sub.) But, I know this teacher. I had the kiddos grab computers assuming that the lesson plans were online. Yup, the lesson plans were online. 

I knew where she kept her sub book. The seating charts were out. Once the kiddos got working, I looked at my computer to take roll as Allie had emailed me the attendance code, and she had also emailed the lesson plans. Which stated that the students needed to look online as their lesson plans were in Google Classroom. 

Experience is helpful. The class was settled and on task pretty quickly. 

(They were drawing sea shells. And doing some other tasks that they were behind on.)

It's been a couple years since working on prep periods happened most days. This seems to be coming back, though. While I rather like having the time without students, I also really like the extra pay. So I may grumble a bit, but I'm not terribly upset. 

I'm especially not terribly upset when the class is fairly mellow. 

And then after that I went back to the other fairly mellow class. Some days are not so interesting for the blog.

Lacking Empathy

Here are some interesting things I came across this week. 

An ‘empathy gap' divides Americans ahead of the midterms, says PRRI report

(RNS) — A survey released Tuesday (Oct. 20) found that Republicans and evangelicals increasingly see empathy as a danger that can lead society away from God. The survey found that more than half of Americans see President Trump as a threat to democracy.

I found this idea troubling. Evangelicals believe that empathy can lead people away from their God? If empathy is a problem, where is their moral compass? It explains why the atrocities this regime is committing don't bother them.

One big thing that puts my stomach in knots is the whole ICE thing. Them taking people off the streets. Killing people. Sending people to countries where they are in danger. All of it. (I feel empathy for these people. I didn't understand why others didn't. Well, now I know.)

Anyway, there's a resource for knowing your rights when the skibidi brownshirts are around. My state assembly member sent out some info as they've been kidnapping in my neighborhood. (If you're in California, you can report misconduct by ICE here.)

Also, I was sent a survey since they knew I had returned my ballot. At the end of the survey was a link to the results. I found it interesting. You can find those results here. It asked about a couple ballot measures, but it also asked about possible 2028 presidential candidates. In case you're interested. 

And finally, a little video I found interesting: 

What are you afraid of?

A Potty Pass

I should be working on the reluctant sweater. I haven't touched it in ages. The weather has finally cooled off to a more reasonable fall setting. And it was supposed to be a Christmas 2025 present. 

But I got another idea... 

It's a toilet paper roll amigurumi. (The pattern is here.) 

Why? Well... 

Restroom passes at school are insane. On any given day, I'm keeping a list of eight-ish students per period who have to go. We have a one-at-a-time rule in an attempt to keep the kiddos in class (and to try to keep the campus fairly clear when the kiddos are supposed to be in class). 

The schools have lanyards with the room numbers on them for the students to carry when they're out of class. This way security knows where they're supposed to get back to. (Over the years, teachers have come up with other items that the kiddos use for passes while out of class, and some have gone back to those.) 

The problem for subs: these passes have a tendency to disappear on our watch. 

I try to keep track of the thing. I note who has it (with my list). I try to remember to see that it's there when no one is out of class. But, with all the other things that I have to keep track of, sometimes that stupid pass gets neglected. 

So, I got this idea. If I had my own pass, then it would not matter if a student lost it. It was mine. 

And, if I had my own pass, I might as well make an amigurumi critter. Because that's what I do. And they're cute. 

With this thought in mind, I went on an internet search of amigurumi patterns to see what would tickle me. And I was thinking of an animal of some sort. But, then I came across some toilet patterns, and this toilet paper roll just screamed "restroom pass". 

I had to make one.

And there it is. 

I have not used it as a pass yet as I just made it last week. I'm going to give it a trial run this week. We'll see how it goes.

And I'm making a second one just in case this first one goes missing. (Although, I will keep better tabs on it as it is mine.)

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.