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.

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. 

Actually an Improvement

Tuesday. High school art, second period. 

They're really cracking down on cell phones, and so Ms. G had asked me to make sure to collect their cell phones at the beginning of the period. I did. And, the students gave them up easily. 

Towards the end of the period, a pleasant ring tone rang out. Calm. Melodic. A ring tone I would choose for my phone. (Is it new? I must go and check my phone to see if it has it.) 

I looked around. The ringing phone was in the box of cell phones. Where it was supposed to be. 

I continued my circuit of the room. 

The students? Looked panicked. Whose phone was ringing? They had to stop it. 

As far as I was concerned, the phone would stop ringing soon enough, and the students would be more aware of making sure their phones were on silent before turning them in. 

But one student came up, searched through the box, found their phone, and silenced it. 

I mean, this was a win as far as I was concerned. 

Thursday. Eighth grade English, fourth period. 

This was a co-teaching day, and the kiddos were doing some standardized testing. Phones were put away in backpacks which were stored at the front of the room, or they were on a charger in the back. 

Midway through class, a phone on the charger started to speak. Clearly a ring tone. Ms. C (the general ed teacher) started to comment that the phone was where it should be and the kiddos should ignore it, until the phrase continued with an F-bomb. Oops. 

Ms. C made a comment about ignoring the profanity, and she said something about phones on silent. But, again, mostly a win. The phone wasn't in the possession of the student, especially during standardized testing. 

So, so far this year, no major problems with kiddos giving up their phones as required. Now we just need to teach them how to put them on silent. 

Baby steps. 

Naturally, Of Course

Wednesday. Seventh grade world history. Fifth period. 

The kiddos had work in their Google Classroom. They had vocabulary words and questions to answer. Easy enough. 

They were working pretty well, for seventh graders. There were a couple not doing much. One boy kept turning to the boy behind him, annoying the second boy. The usual. 

I went to look something up on my computer when I got the spinning wheel of doom. I tried a different tab, and spinning wheel of doom. Oh no.

A student noted that they couldn't get something to load on their computer. 

Crap! Did the internet just go down? 

I called the office. The internet had just gone down. 

Deep sigh. 

Why does this always happen when the work is all online?

The teacher had left extra work in case the kiddos finished early. They could work on other class's work. Mr. D also left word searches. Okay, then. 

I announced to the kiddos that without internet they could not finish their online work, but they could work on, and then I gave the list. Several of them pulled out the success assignment (as I had had them earlier in the day). Several of them wanted to attempt the word searches. One girl pulled out her book, and she asked me if I liked to read. (She said I looked like someone who likes to read. I think she meant that as a compliment.) 

I no longer had the good, studious behavior I had had before. But, that couldn't be helped. At least they had something to do. 

The internet returned towards the end of seventh period. At least the seventh period class, another success class, had work on paper. 

Burning Question

Wednesday. Seventh grade success, third period. 

(Different campus than the one I did the week and a half of seventh grade success at, but they were doing the same thing I had done last week. The counselors came in to get their student portal accounts set up. Looks like I had the vacant classes right on schedule.) 

The students had a school rules kind of an assignment (they were doing the A to Z of how they should behave), and mostly they were on task. Someone made a comment about the air conditioning. 

After the prior week's heat, this week was a nice cool down. We were still in the 80s (Fahrenheit, Celsius would be about 29 degrees), but it felt so much better. However, it was still air conditioning weather. 

Instead of responding, I noticed that the kiddo sitting right in front of me had on a black hoodie. And I finally asked the question. 

I mentioned that we adults have had this conversation. Why do the kiddos where black hoodies in the heat? What are they thinking? 

Several students chimed in. Mostly it was about having the sads. They said sometimes they just want to huddle in the comfort of a hoodie and wallow. (That's the gist of it, anyway.) 

Mystery solved. 

And then one student piped up with how they'll sometimes wear shorts in the winter. To which I emphatically agreed. And why is that? But to that I did not get an answer. 

Absence Modified

Thursday, while sitting in the teacher's lounge/workroom in the main office, a job popped up on the subbing app. A job I was kind of shocked to see. 

The previous Friday, Mr. K at the continuation high school had texted me to see if I was available to sub for him the following Friday. I said no as I didn't know how long the vacant success class would go, and so I was booked through the week. 

I had assumed that Mr. K had put in the request that day. Apparently not. 

I don't look too closely when jobs pop up, because if I don't grab it quickly enough, I miss it. (I'll click "accept" and then be told that another sub was already assigned to the job.) It wasn't until I got the "successfully booked" message that I looked to see what I had snagged. 

I was surprised to see the assignment for the next day. But there was a problem. It showed as a half day, afternoon. This I knew to be wrong as the continuation high school only has morning classes on Fridays. 

So, I called the school. 

I knew the secretary could fix the assignment, and I knew which secretary to call. When the system picked up, it asked me to dial the extension of the person I wanted. And then it told me that extension didn't exist. Deep sigh. 

The phone list I had for the school was from the 2023-24 school year. 

Well, I knew the front office staff. I dialed O for someone to pick up, and I recognized the voice. "Hi, Shelly. Could you please transfer me to Sabrina?" 

And when Sabrina picked up, I identified myself and told her what had happened. 

She was hesitant to touch the assignment as she didn't want me to be booted from it. I assured her that I get "absence modified" notifications all the time. So, she fixed it, and I retained the assignment. 

Of course, part of me just wondered if something went wonky and put in a job that didn't exist. But no. Mr. K just put in his absence the day before. (He is out a lot. I think he's trying to fly under the radar sometimes with his sub requests.) 

Fridays are pretty mellow at the continuation high school. Not much happened. But at least I had the sweet, sweet air conditioning. (The kiddos complained it was too cold in the room. I. Did. Not. Care. It's been icky hot here.) 

And Just Like That...

Tuesday. Lunch. 

I had just finished getting the students into their online gradebook (see yesterday's post), and I was organizing my stuff as things kind of go all over the place during class. The classroom door opened, and in walked a stranger to me. 

He identified himself as Mr. N, the new teacher. 

I had heard the prior Friday before leaving school that they had hired someone. We were in waiting mode, waiting for his paperwork to clear. As soon as it did, he could start. 

Mr. N told me he was starting Wednesday. 

All-righty, then. 

They gave us two days of transition. Mr. N needed the time to get his feet under him. I showed him what was up with the success classes. He was also hired as the school's new athletic director, so he had a lot of stuff on his plate. (It's been crazy without someone in that position as the school year begins.) 

But Mr. N is close in age to me. He's been at several schools. He's taught, coached, and done all the educational things, so he knows what he's in for. They're in good hands. 

That was the gig I signed up for. This is probably the shortest vacant position I've ever done. That's a good thing, really. 

And now, back to the day-to-day subbing of it all. 

(I told the kiddos this wasn't goodbye. I'd be around. A lot. And I will.) 

Winning

I connected with the middle school assistant principal, and she sent me a bunch of resources for the seventh grade success classes I was covering while the school was in process of hiring the teacher. In those resources was an offer that the counselors had made of coming to the class to help the seventh graders create accounts so they could access their online gradebook. 

After the previous week's debacle, you'd think I'd reach out to the counselors and have them help. Wouldn't you? Yeah, that's not how I roll. 

I could do this. 

The school is on a block schedule, so the class I met on Monday was not the class I had the issues with on Friday. Rather than chance another computer mix up, I put the students' credentials on paper that I handed out to them. 

I went through the slideshow. And I had the same issues I had Friday. 

"You have to create the password. Just make one up."

"It's giving you an error message? Did your password contain one capital letter, one number, and one special character?"

"Just go to your email and click on the 'confirm email address'. No, don't put in a code..."

Oh, and they had no idea how to find their email. 

Hands in the air, and I'd go over to find that they just weren't listening to my instructions. They plowed ahead, and then they got stuck. I'd have to answer the same question individually several times. So, basically what I expected. 

I handed out their credentials. I went back to showing them how to log back into the account they just created. "No, you don't have to do this screen again. You created the account. See how it says this account exists." 

And then, suddenly, they were all in. Poof. 

I just... 

I looked around, and they were looking at their grades. (I had not input any grades yet, but other teachers had. Their history teacher had maybe one assignment, so pretty much everyone had an A+ in that class. Some were amazed.) 

The feeling of accomplishment overwhelmed me. They did it! Mission accomplished. 

I won the day. Whew. 

Yeah, I knew I could get them through it. 

(As for the other class, the lady at the district office sent me an email early Monday morning. She had disconnected all the accounts that were attached to Sadie's info. This time I put their credentials on paper, and that worked. They got it all set up, too.)

One Minor Glitch

My little counter at the top of my posts page tells me this is post #4500. Wow. I'm kind of amazed I noticed it. I guess I've been doing this for a while.

Here we go again... 

New school year, new vacant class. This one is seventh grade success. It's basically a study skills class that is kind of an elective for the kiddos, but it's also kind of required. 

I was informed that one requirement of the class is that we're to have them do grade checks every week. Okay, no problem. For them to be able to check their grades, they have to have access to the online gradebook. As they are new to the school, they were going to need to set that up. 

They gave me the instructions on how the kiddos needed to set up their accounts. They also gave me the log in credentials the kiddos would need: their student ID numbers, their official phone number, and a verification passcode. 

Knowing how these things go, I tried to be clever. I typed in the info they'd need into the computer, and I sent that info to each student before class began. 

So, we were in the midst of it. And it was going as well as could be expected. That is, I had many students unclear on what to do even though I had slides with what they needed to click on up for them. I explained to the class, and then I had to explain again to individual students. 

While I was helping the students who were struggling, the students who got it had worked ahead. And found the credentials that I had sent them. 

Only... they all had the same credentials. They had the credentials for one student named Sadie. 

Sadie alerted me to the problem. Several students now had gradebook access to her gradebook. 

Ugh. 

I do not know what happened. I sent each student a different set of credentials. I typed them in myself. I double checked that I was doing a different one for each individual student. It took me over an hour. 

Doesn't matter. It was wrong. 

I deleted what I could. Many students hadn't even gotten that far. And it was the end of the period, so we were out of time. 

So, now I have to track down the person who can reset these things. The main office sent me to the IT guy who sent me to someone in the district office. But it was late afternoon on a Friday. 

At least I wasn't to see this class again until Tuesday. Maybe it'll be fixed by then? So we can try it again? 

Just when I thought I had a handle on things...

A Snafu Kind of First Day 13

Last Monday was the first day of school. And to call the day one big long snafu is to use the initial meaning of the word, the original acronym for the word. It was the kind of day I can only encapsulate via a Thursday 13. 

ONE

I was very happy when an assignment for the week popped up the Friday before school began. I had a suspicion it was a vacant class from how the assignment was worded, and shortly after I accepted it, I got an email from Allie verifying that my suspicion was correct. Good news/bad news.

TWO

I arrived early Monday as I didn't know what sort of situation I'd be walking into. Good thing. Because no teacher was assigned to the classes, there was no way to access the attendance online. Allie (the secretary I check in with at the school) printed me paper rosters. And that was when I first got to see what my schedule was going to be. 

THREE

The vacant position was for the athletic director. Who was also teaching two periods of seventh grade success. (I knew the success part before I got there. The athletic director part was a surprise.) What were my responsibilities regarding the athletic director? I would need to touch base with the assistant principal who oversaw athletics. (Note: this did not happen.) 

FOUR

The good news: I didn't have a first period class. The bad news: the seventh graders were spending all day with their first period teacher in an orientation. (We did the same thing two years ago when I covered that maternity leave for the seventh grade science teacher.) Where was I supposed to be? Turns out, I had not been added to the list for the day, so I had no official responsibilities. 

FIVE

As I was figuring the day out, another teacher came into the classroom. She explained that she had just learned (the previous workday) that she would be teaching two periods of success this school year. She's a PE teacher. So, she was checking out the room to see what she had and what she would need. She would have the room for first and second periods while I would need it for third and fourth periods. Not a problem, just a surprise. 

SIX

Right before first period was to begin, Allie called me. A math/credit recovery teacher had taken ill and gone home. Could I cover his first period? Well, it's not like I had anything better to do. (For the full story about this class, see yesterday's post.) 

SEVEN

For third period, I returned to "my" classroom, but "my" third period would remain in their first period classes. I remained with the PE teacher's group. The PE teacher had her PE classes to cover for the rest of the day, but they had booked another teacher to come in to supervise the class. 

EIGHT

I got to see some of the orientation. We took a tour of the campus. In the heat. And while my presence was not needed, I learned what the students learned that day. I knew most of it, but now I knew what they were supposed to know. 

NINE

I asked Allie what my responsibility was for seventh period, the athletic period. She had told me she'd ask around and get back to me. For seventh period, she said to remain in the classroom. (The school is on a block schedule, so the first day was an odd day, periods 1, 3, 5, and 7.) 

TEN

I got to work on what I'd need for the next day (when I would for sure have a class). I was going to email Allie pages I needed printed (as I don't have printer access). Only, I suddenly had no access to my district email account and it's linked drive (where I keep all the material I need for class). I got an error message saying it was disabled. I've had this account for many, many years. WTF!

Before I could panic, Allie called to tell me I was supposed to be outside. (She had only just been informed.) I told her my account was disabled. She said she'd look into it. 

ELEVEN

On my way outside, I passed the basketball team heading for the classroom. I told them to come back outside, and I took roll. I was able to locate a few of the students from the soccer team, but most had left. (They were supposed to have practice, but something something coach not there something something missing bus. I didn't get full details.) I had several other teams' attendance, but they were nowhere to be found. 

TWELVE

End of day, I went to check out. I took the athletic director attendance to the attendance office. Allie informed me that they had restored my account. I went to check it, but I couldn't get online in the office. I asked Allie to print some things for me that I'd email her when I could. And then I went home.

THIRTEEN

Yes, I could access my account. Yay! I emailed Allie what I'd need for the next day. As I sat down to make sure I had my slides and such ready for Tuesday, my account again was disabled. Grrrr.

The next day I learned that they were doing something at district that was disabling accounts. I conferred with two other subs who had the same problem. Allie contacted district and got my account restored only to have it be blocked again that day. After class, luckily. Then Allie contacted the district again... At the moment my account works. Fingers crossed that that doesn't pop up again.

A Sudden Absence

Last Monday was the first day of school, and I caught an assignment for the whole week. (More about that in tomorrow's post.) However, I did not have a first period. This was a good thing, as first day of school, no teacher assigned to the class, so I was in scramble mode. 

Just before first period was to begin, I got a call. Could I cover a first period? 

The teacher, Mr. B, had been on campus. He had set up for the day. But, he suddenly got ill and had to go home. 

On the first day!?!

I don't doubt his illness. What concerned me was that there weren't any lesson plans. Uh, what do I do?

I got to the class at just about the bell. The class filed in. 

There were intro first day things written on the board. It was some sort of icebreaker activity. They were to get into groups or something, and I was unclear on what it was. 

The class was credit recovery. Generally, they'll work on whatever class they need to make up credits for. But that can't happen until they've been signed into the program. Which I could not do, not that I would on the first day. 

After I took roll, I flailed about for a bit, letting the class know that Mr. B was out ill, and then I noticed on a side table some worksheets. Score! 

They were simple things, like "about me" and "the importance of education". First day stuff. Okay, then, that works. 

It didn't quite take the whole period. But it was something. 

I had a whole first day thing ready for the class I had been booked for. If I had been thinking I would have brought it with me to that class. But no. 

You'd think by now I would know what to do in any situation. Nope. But at least the class had supervision. 

Mr. B was out all that first week. As I was on campus, I was able to find out. I hope he feels better soon. What a terrible time to suddenly take ill. 

And before anyone says it...

...yes, I know. (Via Jamie at Whatever I Think Of!)

Difficulties or Excuses?

Wednesday. The continuation high school. Computer aided drafting.

Wait. A subbing day...?

Yes, it is still technically summer. The first day of school is in about a week and a half. But the continuation high school starts early (mid-July), so this time of year there's always a chance that I might get to work. If something pops up, I grab it. 

I've covered this teacher's class many, many times, so I knew the drill. They had projects. (They work on Solidworks, completing various drafting activities.) They get their credit upon completion of the assignments, so if they goof around, it's only hurting their own graduation. 

Third period. Joey's task was to program a robot to "dance" to a song of his choice. 

Joey? He explained that he needed Mr. G's help. 

This happens all the time. I asked Joey if there was some way we could figure it out. He booted up the computer (which ran an old Windows because that's what the robot was connected to), and connected to the necessary software. The robot moved. But, as Joey attempted to add to the program, he could get nothing to "stick". Every movement he input disappeared as soon as he tried to get it to work. 

I am sure that we're missing something obvious. But as I'm unfamiliar with the software, I don't know what that obvious thing is. Sigh. 

I'm used to these students making excuses, so I try to push a bit. 

Sixth period. Two girls were "concerned" that I was "standing too close". I was just making sure they could log in. Then Elian had all sorts of excuses as to why Instagram was on his computer rather than the CAD software. 

I gave them time to get their music set up. But Elian was still not working. Why? He said he was done. 

On a Wednesday? 

Generally, the teacher gives an assignment for the week. Most of them slow walk it, finishing by Friday, maybe. The rest of the classes, it didn't look like the kiddos were doing much, but it was the kind of fiddly work that doesn't look like much. They were enlarging their screens to the point that they were looking very closely at detail. And making minute changes. 

I've watched kiddos work in this class before. That is the sort of thing I expect. 

Elian? Done? 

I mean, he could be. It's possible. But unlikely. 

But, if he doesn't complete the project, he doesn't get credit. It's his grade. 

I left a note that Elian said he was done. And I left it at that. 

If he's scrambling in May to get credits done, he can remember the goofing off he did in July. 

And now back to my summer vacation.

Missing Student

And so, I ended the school year not far from where it began. Literally. I started the school year in room 906 and ended it in room 915. (Both classrooms are within sight of one another.) 

Thursday. Seventh grade math. Fourth period. 

It was the last day of school. Each period was about 28 minutes long. The lesson plan was basically "do what you want". As I have been in this situation before, I knew I didn't have to have them do anything. 

What I did have to do was take roll and make sure I knew where the kiddos were. 

At the beginning of the period several students descended upon me to request permission to go elsewhere. I growled at them that they'd have to wait until I had taken attendance. 

(A science teacher three doors down must have been having a bacchanal as that's where everyone wanted to go. But there were a couple other teachers' classes they wanted as well as the art teacher--the one they hired for that vacant class--needed help cleaning her room.) 

I went around the room, checked in with each kiddo asking their name, and I marked each student present. Then I got the names of those who left, and I wrote them down so I knew where they were. 

Roll taken, I had a group of girls request to go outside so they could film a TikTok dance. Others had grouped up and were playing video games. I didn't much care so long as they didn't trash the room. 

Then the phone rang. Was Jamir there? 

I checked my roll. He was marked absent. No, he was not. 

"His mom is going to be pissed..." 

Just to be sure, I called out, "Jamir..." Nope. Not there. 

Groups of students were coming in and out of the room. (Teachers called to ask if they could send kiddos. I had given permission.) There was one boy in a Lakers jersey who I thought belonged in class, but he did not check in with me, and then he left again. 

Towards the end of the period (so, about fifteen minutes later), I went to check on the TikTok girls. Who should have been back in the room already. Security drove up and stopped the boy in the Lakers jersey. "Jamir, your mother is looking for you," and she gave him a paper. 

Security gave me a hard stare. "You're marked absent," she told him. I protested that he was not around when I took roll and he had not checked in with me when he arrived. 

I mean, seriously? I'm a sub. Most kiddos know to check in with me if they arrive after the bell. But last day crazy... 

I did fix the attendance. Growled at Jamir. He asked to go to his PE class. Well, now that I knew where he'd be... 

And just like that, the school year is over. 

Next week I'll share my year stats, and then the summer schedule shall begin. 

Arranging Chairs

Tuesday. Eighth grade history. Second period. 

It was finals week, but the eighth graders were done. I was to take roll and then escort them to the gym. So, that's what I did. 

Many of the eighth grade kiddos I had taught at the beginning of their seventh grade year in that science class. (And if you click on that link, the Mr. F I reference in the post is the teacher I was subbing for on this day.) It was kind of a full-circle moment for me. I liked getting just a small taste of the end of their middle school career as I had gotten the small taste of the beginning. 

Anyway, we were there to start promotion practice. Mr. S (yes, the same Mr. S as from the linked post) was getting them in the order they were to enter the gym for their actual promotion. And that took a while. 

Me and the other eighth grade teachers (who know who I am and knew that Mr. F was out) helped arrange chairs. Yes, chairs. They were all seated in the wrong arrangement, so as Mr. S called them up, they brought the folding chair they were sitting on, and those got put in the correct arrangement. 

Tedious. 

But that's how these things go. I didn't get to see any practice as the bell rang for the next period, and I had seventh graders, so I had to go back. 

The seventh graders (it was a leadership class) were making candy leis for the eighth grade promotion. I had been in this situation before, too. They were to make at least twenty. They made twenty. 

And then, the eighth graders returned to class for the last class of the day. To do nothing. Sigh. 

But I knew what I signed up for when I took that assignment. I am appreciated, though. Mr. F replied to my email about the day with, "With all the chaos of the day, I was really happy to see your name covering my class." 

Signing Shirts

Monday of the last week of school. Eighth grade English, co-taught. Fourth period. 

The eighth graders were done. Their grades had been submitted the prior Friday. Eighth grade promotion activities started Tuesday. So, the lesson for the day was a streamed movie. 

As it was a co-taught class, Ms. R was there. (I was subbing for the special ed teacher.) And she was really done with them. She wasn't going to permit them to sit next to their friends, but she was going to permit them to sign yearbooks. 

After going over the agenda for the rest of the week (she made sure to stress that the quicker they followed directions on Tuesday, the quicker they could be done with promotion practice), she put on the movie. 

A boy pulled out a red Sharpie...

The kiddos are not allowed to bring Sharpies to school. The kiddos have not made good choices with regards to where they write with that permanent ink marker. 

Ms. R, exasperated, reminded the kiddos that she had spent a lot of time at the beginning of the year warning them about having Sharpies at school. She was not in the mood to deal with it, though, so she told the boy to put it away. 

He explained that he brought it so that people could autograph his shirt. 

Okay, I might need to back up here a bit. It was tradition in my elementary school, and likely many of the elementary schools in the area, that on the last day of school, the sixth graders got to wear a white t-shirt that everyone could sign. I still have mine. Someplace. 

He was in a white t-shirt. In fact, there was a good portion of the class that were in white t-shirts that had various writings on them. (This is the first time I've seen it in the middle school.) Okay, then... 

So, people were signing shirts. A few of them had yearbooks, but more had shirts. (They were complaining about the price of the full-color, hardcover yearbooks. Their yearbooks were much nicer than my junior high yearbooks were.) 

I mean, it is a Title I school. I'm sure some couldn't afford the yearbooks. 

Graduation Season

Friday. Integrated math two, honors. (Read: advanced freshmen and sophomores.) 

They weren't actually having a final the next week. They were taking a quiz on the latest unit. (No cumulative final. I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing.) They had review work on it. (Factoring and solving quadratic equations.) 

Ah, but it was the last Friday of the school year, and it was the day of the senior farewell assembly. (Their teacher was the advisor for the senior class, ever since they started at the school. So, she was involved in doing all the graduation things, hence why she was out of class.) We had activities that were going to interrupt class (not that anyone truly minded). 

Towards the middle of the period, we all stopped and stood outside as the seniors in their caps and gowns walked the campus. They've been doing this for several years, and I've been present for it several times. In previous years the kiddos weren't all that enthused about this, but this year these students had friends in the senior class, so the seniors stopped and gave hugs or fist bumps. 

(I recognized many faces. Several from various long terms I did last year and the year before that.) 

After the seniors walked the campus, we all went to the gym for the assembly. I had not gotten to go to one of these before, and it was emotional. Mostly for the staff. I'm sure some of the seniors were upset, though. As the festivities started, one girl ran for the restroom. One of the senior teachers followed her to make sure she was okay. 

I warn the kiddos that this is going to happen. Throughout the year I tell the seniors that it's going to go fast, and they're going to feel it when it happens. They don't believe me. Well, some of them believe me. 

After the assembly, we went back to class, but I had the next period group. Back to work... 

Although, the seniors were wandering campus. In their caps and gowns. It's a good reminder to the underclassmen that this is what they're working towards. 

The last day of school was yesterday. Next week's posts will wrap up the school year with my last working days. And the week after, before summer schedule goes into effect, I'll do my annual stats post for the classes I worked this school year.

Finishing Up, Part 2

Friday. Middle school leadership. They were creating "mission statements". 

(The success classes a couple weeks ago were doing a similar assignment.)

I was to remind the eighth graders that this was their final and it was due that day. Their grades were due by 4:30 PM. I mean, some of them could probably afford a zero, but their grade would take at least a letter grade hit, I assume. 

(The seventh graders still had a week, but I don't think their teacher really wanted to grade the assignment twice.) 

And the kiddos? Pretty much worked on the assignment. This was a leadership class, after all. Student government. There are GPA requirements, besides the fact that a kiddo has to be pretty motivated to choose to run for an office and serve the year doing all the various activities that go along with that. 

Today is the actual last day of school. Whew. Made it another year. 

Finishing Up

Tuesday. The penultimate week of school. I managed to catch an English class for seniors. 

Their finals had been the previous week. Their grades were due the prior Friday. They were effectively done. 

Not quite half the class showed up. For the first class. For the second, it was more like a third were present. 

There was no actual lesson plan. "They can play games." The teacher had some board games left out. 

The first class played the games. The second class, well, there were maybe ten of them. 

Three students came up to me to ask if they could hang out in their photography class. Any other day, I'd hesitate. But seniors? Now? No problem. 

I didn't even blink when a random student asked if he could hang out in this class. (His friend was in the class. They spent the period chatting.) 

Then that same student asked if he and his friend could "wander" campus. 

And that's where I had to draw the line. 

While the seniors were done, the rest of the students were not. Some teachers might have been doing early finals. (The finals week schedule is not great, so some teachers start or just do the whole final early.) And if they weren't doing early finals, they were preparing for finals or doing actual school work. 

I could not permit roaming students. 

The student understood. He sat back down and continued talking to his friend. 

I do love the easy days.