The Usual

Tuesday. Seventh grade science. 

I had gotten the assignment at 1 AM. In their Google Classrooms, the teacher informed the kiddos that he'd had a medical emergency. He left them plenty to do. 

And some of them did the work. 

Others...

Two boys immediately logged onto a game. Fortnite, I think. I told them they had work to do. As I walked up behind them, they showed their screens with the actual work. And no open game tabs. 

They set it up with two desktops. (I think that's what it's called.) I do similar. You can flip between one screen with appropriate tabs, and the other screen has something else. (Usually for me it's blogs.) Somehow, they thought they were fooling me. I don't know why. 

I told them to close the game and get to work. Of course they didn't. 

My philosophy in this circumstance is that it's their grade. If they don't do the work, they don't get the points. I can point out that they're not making good choices, but they're their choices. (I also note who was blatantly not working in my note to the teacher.) 

Considering the time of year, things went pretty well. At least they entertained themselves. Better than what they could have been doing. 

I'm ready for some time off. It's coming soon. 

Modern Problems

Friday. Seventh grade science. Third period. 

The lesson plan had them working on a Friend or Foe paper. (They were given two organisms--plants and animals--and they were to determine if the relationship was beneficial or parasitical.) I passed that out, and they were to fill it out using information found in their Google Classroom. 

Only, the information wasn't in their Google Classroom.

Luckily, this happened at the school I had started the school year out in. You know, the school where I did the long term for the seventh grade science teacher? (She's back now.) So, I knew just who to call for assistance. 

Ms. W didn't have access to Ms. H's Google Classroom, but the three seventh grade science teachers are all friends, so she was able to contact Ms. H to get the issue dealt with. (I actually have Ms. H's cell phone number, too. I was going to text her, but I thought Ms. W might have access, so I thought I'd try the teacher on campus first. Ms. H might not have been easily reachable.) 

Within a couple minutes, the info the kiddos needed appeared in their Google Classrooms. Phew. 

Digital assignments are great, until something occurs and the kiddos can't access them. 

Of course, they also were to start working on their study guides for their final (fast approaching), so I did have a backup in case things went totally awry. But it's much better that I didn't have to resort to that. 

Stealth Mode

(If you haven't seen my Monday post, you probably should. It's here.)

Monday. Seventh grade math, second period. 

They were working on a study guide for their next test. And a review thing online, also for the next test. (The next test was likely the next class period, but I'm not 100% sure.) 

A student asked to move to work with his friend. I said no. The student moved anyway. Grrr. 

So, as I walked around the room, I came up behind the pair. And... 

They were actually working on the assignment. 

The boy who moved was actually explaining the problem to the other boy. As I listened the boy gave a good explanation of how to find circumference. 

Okay, then. I'm irritated, but the boy needed help, so I'll let that go. 

While hovering, boy two turned a bit... and about jumped out of his skin.

"When did you get there?" 

I had been behind him for maybe thirty seconds. Long enough to see that they were on task. But I didn't tell him that. 

"Seriously, how long have you been standing there?" 

I'm not a small woman. I'm not particularly graceful. But apparently I can sneak up on students quite well. This isn't the first time I've startled a student by being right behind them when they didn't realize I was there.

Of course, it might just be that they don't hear me when they have their earbuds in their ears, they're talking to their classmates, and they're not paying attention to their surroundings. 

It was fun to watch him wonder. Once I saw that he was working fine, I moved on to hover over someone else. 

Third Period, Starring Jonas

Wednesday. Third period.

Class started. I explained what they'd be doing. (See Wednesday's post about testing.) They got to work. 

Then Jonas made his entrance. Late. 

He announced that he was late. He announced a couple things. And he loudly asked what we were doing in class. 

The rest of the class was quietly working. 

Some students... They never quite get the memo that when you're late, you don't walk into the room like you're the star walking onto a stage. But some students are the stars, and they behave like this. 

I had already explained what we were doing for the students who were on time. I also had the agenda typed out nicely on a cute slide that was projected on the classroom TV. 

I pointed to this in response to Jonas. He could figure it out on his own. 

Sometime during class, Jonas then asked when Ms. B would be returning. Loudly.

The previous week I had said in two weeks. Apparently this was not specific enough for Jonas. He acted like I had not answered the question. 

I had a couple students finishing up their testing. I was keeping a quiet room. If Jonas had raised his hand and asked quietly, I probably would have answered. But he just announced to the quiet room, "When is Ms. B coming back?" 

Yeah, not responding to that. 

Besides, I was going to tell them on Friday that it was my last day. 

Which is what I did. On Friday, I made the announcement that Ms. B would return on Monday. My time with them was finished. 

Jonas? Was absent that day.

Getting It Done

As I started this class at the beginning of the semester, I was not in danger of having grades due. So, of course I would have to do some standardized testing. 

All in all, it went pretty well. For first period. 

For third period, I had absent students and the slow walkers. There are some students who need more time to do tests, and I get that. That's fine. But some students just kind of stare into space and/or sleep rather than getting the thing done. 

Day one I had planned on only testing that day. On day two, I hoped to get the stragglers and the absent students done. And that worked perfectly for period one. 

For third period, I had two students absent. Again. (One had been suspended, so that was going to be unavoidable.) And I had one student who took his time, so he did not finish. 

Which meant that on Wednesday, period three again had to work on the test. 

(This is a very, very long time for seventh graders. The students who were finished had other work to do, but I couldn't change things up a bit until all the tests were complete.) 

I had two students who were just starting the test, and I had two students who had started but were only half way done. 

The two students who were just starting? Yeah, they were playing the slow walking game. And I was not going to have it. 

I started hovering. 

As the test proctor, I had access to what question they were on, but I couldn't see anything else. (The test was online.) So, when the boy was on question 12 for a very long time, I went over and gently asked if the software was stuck. It wasn't. He got going again. 

When the girl was stuck on question 15, I went over to her. She was staring into space. I urged her to get back on task. 

One of the boys who had already started finished. Then the other boy finished. Woo-hoo! 

I went and hovered over the other two again. 

Then the girl finished. 

We had a half hour left of class. Then twenty minutes. Then fifteen...

The boy finished.

And it was all I could do to not throw my arms up in the air and shout "Woo-hoo!". 

I celebrated by putting a video on for the kiddos. One we had started before the testing. 

And then I closed out the software and deleted all the emails about the testing. Because I was done. 

Whew. 

Scissor Emergency

Friday. Third period seventh grade world history. 

Jonas asked for a pair of scissors. I didn't want to give him scissors, so I told him I didn't have any. 

But, Jonas needed scissors. And he wasn't going to do anything without them. 

We had done some testing the prior class period. (It's not state-mandated. It's more of a growth test that the district now requires.) Most of the class had finished, but a couple students needed to finish up, so I was giving them the class period. Jonas was one of them. And he wasn't touching his test because he needed scissors. 

He had some string... It wasn't like he was cutting it off his clothing. (I've had students with that particular issue get distracted.) And I'm not sure what he had in mind. 

He had to get up and get tissue. He whined about scissors. Then some girl offered him a pair that she had. 

Scissors acquired, Jonas did what he wanted to do, and then he finally got going on his test. (While making noises and fidgeting and such.) 

He eventually finished. Class finished. And after the kiddos had left, I did my now-usual clean up after them. 

Over by Jonas' desk was the string, tied around the side of the desk. Sitting. 

Apparently the thing Jonas needed to do was leave a mess. Because, of course. 

Seventh graders *shakes head*

Parsing the Fine Print

Seventh grade world history. Monday, third period. 

Every teacher has one. For this teacher, it's third period. They've been in play mode since I met them. 

For the beginning of the semester, they've started studying medieval Europe. They were given a poster assignment. It's mostly about Joan of Arc, but it's also about the Hundred Years War. Ms. B gave them all the info they needed to include on the poster on slides in Google Classroom. (Apparently they've done this sort of thing before all through the first semester.) 

In the instructions, there was a big warning: do not trace from the computer screen. 

But alas, seventh graders. Tracing things has become de rigeur for them. They whine that they can't draw, that their work doesn't look good, and that they need to trace pictures. 

I point out that this is not an art class. We're not looking for perfection. We just want them to use their own creativity. 

So, on Monday, I was again pointing out that they were not to trace their pictures...

Student: "Can we trace from our phones?"

Deep sigh. 

The middle school rule is phones are put away in backpacks. If I see them, I get to confiscate them. And, I reminded them of this rule the previous week. I would think that if phones are forbidden... But seventh graders. 

Student: "It says no tracing from the computer. It says nothing about phones. Ms. B lets us..." 

So, I reiterated NO TRACING, pointing out that phones aren't to be out during class. 

But no, that wasn't good enough. The student said he'd email Ms. B. 

Later that day, I got an email from Ms. B about other things, but she mentioned getting an email from a student about tracing from his phone. Her take? They shouldn't have their cell phones out ("they are sneaky") and no tracing. 

Exactly what I said. Well, mostly. 

They really shouldn't doubt my word. (If I'm not sure about something, I will hedge, then clarify with the teacher. But if I give an instruction, I'm fairly certain I'm making the right call.) But middle schoolers. 

So, no one tried to trace again, right? A couple class periods later, I found a student tracing the pictures from his computer. Sigh.

(I'm still learning the students, but I'm about 50% sure it was the student who emailed the teacher. Because, of course.)

Can't Sit Still

For the last three days of the semester (the last three days before winter break) I caught a special ed assignment. Ms. D is a co-teacher, so I was expecting to be all over the place. What I got was a day in one classroom proctoring the final for two different seventh grade math classes. 

(Ms. D co-teaches seventh grade math with two different teachers. On test days she takes the special ed kiddos to another room. The special ed students test in a different room to help them focus.) 

Fifth period. 

I had seven students testing with me. They could have spread out in the room, but they sat in groups of two. The final was online, so once I verified that they had logged in, I sat back and watched. 

Calvin couldn't sit still. He changed position a couple times. He found a loose chair, pulled it up next to him, and then twisted so he was half in that chair and half in his desk. Then he started humming.

I warned Calvin that they were taking a final and he shouldn't be humming. He found he did not like the seat he was in and he wanted to move. I had a classroom of more than thirty desks, so I told him to pick another one. He did.

Then the humming started in earnest. "Last Christmas". I reminded him that not only was he testing, but the other students in the room were testing as well. 

Eventually, he finished his final. I was to keep the kiddos with me (rather than sending them back to their usual classroom which is usually what happens, but finals), so I allowed them to be on their phones. 

Calvin? Found "Last Christmas" and played it. Sigh.

I told Calvin that the room still needed to be quiet for the other students who weren't finished. He didn't get my point. And the shifting and squirming and such he was doing before became constant movement. 

It was a long, long period.

The next day when I talked to the general ed teacher, Ms. M, she asked how the final went. When I mentioned some difficulty, she had one reply. "Calvin?" Yup. She got it in one. 

I asked if he had ADHD. Because, seriously. Of course he did. 

I hope he matures out of some of these behaviors. Because special ed doesn't necessarily mean difficult kiddos. But seventh graders? Yeah, some of this is his age.

A Smooth Transition 13

It was one of those weeks...

Well, yeah, I do mean that, but really what I'm talking about is work--the substitute teaching of it all. And luckily, it wasn't a bad week, which I kind of needed with the state of the U.S. and all.

It was one of those weeks where I don't really have any good stories for the blog. This is good for my mental health, but not so much for the blog. Which makes it a good time to do a Thursday 13. (The "smooth transition" is number nine.)

1. "Puppies with hormones." That's how my fellow sub co-teacher referred to seventh graders, and I find the description apt.

2. That was Tuesday. It was a co-taught eighth grade English class where both teachers were out. (It was "collaborative scoring" which meant all the eighth grade teachers in the district were at the district office reading student essays. It's the best time of year for subs as we have plenty of work those days.)

3. Tuesday's classes were challenging. But we had an easy lesson plan. They were watching The Birds. Yes, the Alfred Hitchcock film. The class has a unit on suspense where they read excerpts from Cujo and they had just finished reading "The Tell-Tale Heart". 

4. Wednesday I was at a different middle school but I again had eighth grade English. Same reason. And I again, I was in co-taught classes with another sub. Alas, this sub wasn't as helpful as the co-teacher I had the previous day.

5. At least the classes weren't terrible. (Not that Tuesday's classes were "terrible". Just "challenging".) I'll talk a bit more about Ms. N tomorrow.

6. Thursday I ended up in a Spanish class. The teacher was chaperoning a field trip that was supposed to take place the previous week. But it got postponed due to the Dodgers. 

The field trip was to a Day of the Dead celebration in L.A. But when the Dodgers won the World Series, they got a parade and celebration in the city. That fell on the Day of the Dead celebration. So, the Day of the Dead celebration got postponed. 

7. The Spanish classroom was opposite the classroom where I covered that seventh grade science class at the beginning of the school year. (So, if the science classroom had been room 101, the Spanish classroom was in room 102.) I could wave to Mr. H from the door (and, in fact, I did). 

8. And between those classes (in the equivalent of room 122) was the history classroom I had covered a couple weeks back. Which also had a sub covering. Who I know. It was a big sub day. 

9. The students were so excited when someone mentioned seeing Ms. S over in the science classroom. Because, this happened to be the day of transition. Mr. H had finished his thirty days as the long-term sub, and the next one was due to begin. 

Before I left that gig, Ms. W had lined up the third sub for the class, and it was an English teacher who had retired at the end of the last school year. So, when the students were ready to descend on the class, I let them know that Ms. S would be there for the next six weeks (thirty school days), and they could say hi at any time. 

10. I had subbed for Ms. S several times, and in fact, a couple times last semester. 

11. Friday I had a ninth grade English class. For another teacher I have subbed for in the past (but had not this school year until then). 

12. Fourth period was really happy to see a sub. Although, they won't be so happy when she returns, as several of them wasted the period, and I left names. 

13. What was their lesson plan? They were prepping to write their essay. (That is, they were reading the articles that they would use as their sources for the essay they would write the next week.) This would be the essay that the ninth grade English teachers will then all score at the district office at some time after. And we subs will again all have a day of work covering those classes. The cycle begins again.

More Seventh Grade

Wednesday. I was covering seventh grade English. (This was a different school than where I did the science long-term, so no familiar faces this day.) 

The kiddos had read a piece in their books by Maya Angelou called "New Directions", and their assignment for the day was to answer two questions about it. 

Only two questions? Yes. First, that was not the plan for the whole period (this was to take them about twenty minutes). And second, they were to answer the questions in a specific way, using textual evidence.

They had done something similar in sixth grade (the sixth and seventh grade teachers meet once a year to coordinate things), but not to this extent. But this is the natural progression as each year the English teachers have them build their writing skills by taking them to the next level.

Ms. L left me slides to go over, and we did the first question (of three, they did two on their own) together.

Oh, the whining...

It's nice when the teachers leave me something to do where I get to teach as opposed to giving the kiddos independent work. Instead of dealing with bored students not wanting to work, I got to do something with them. 

But still, seventh grade. Keeping their focus is a challenge.

Somehow, this has become a year of seventh grade for me. So far, anyway. Funny how these themes find me, depending on the year. 

(Want to feel old? This year's seventh graders are the class of 2030.)

Familiar Faces, Part 2

When I left the seventh grade science class, I told the kiddos that it wasn't goodbye. It was "see you around". Because I would see them again. And again. And again.

Friday. I was asked to cover an extra period, seventh grade history. And of the class of 33, I counted 18 names that I recognized (and once I was in the class, I noted a couple more faces that I recognized without remembering their names). Oh, and the history classroom was basically next door to the science classroom.

The good news was I knew more than half the class. The bad news was I knew more than half the class.

They were wound up, but it was the last period on a Friday of a minimum day, so I kinda knew that was coming. 

I caught two students with phones. Myles was there, but he kept his head down this time. Edgar kept calling me over for various reasons, ending with telling me he really wanted to learn to speak Korean. 

(And Keith, who was referenced in yesterday's post, was in this class. Without his twin.)

I'm rather surprised at how many names I learned in my thirty days in the science class. But it's helped me a lot. If I keep getting to cover seventh grade classes, I may even remember their names for longer than a school year.

Familiar Faces

Friday. Seventh grade English.

I glanced at the class roster. Yup, I knew many of those names...

Fourth period. Out of a class of 22, 12 had been in the science class I had left just one week prior.

Immediately, Julian pounced. "Why did you give me a 13 on my lab safety poster?"

Julian is one of those overachiever-type kids. Good student. Anxious. 

I graded the posters by rubric, 20 points total. (So, 13 is 65%.) 

And... I don't really pay attention to names when I'm grading. And 175 students. Do I remember what each student got on the poster? Nope. I don't even remember what Julian's poster looked like.

I said something of the sort. I'm sure his grade is still just fine. (And I gave Mr. H carte blanche when it came to adjusting grades on the posters if he wished. That he didn't tells me he wasn't going to bother.) 

Once class got started, there was a dispute between two boys. Myles and Clayton (I'm talking about Clayton in #8 of this list). Clayton had stolen Myles' water bottle and drank from it. (Clayton said he pretended to drink from it.) Myles was upset as the bottle was now nearly empty when it hadn't been before.

Oh, Myles could not be consoled. Then he said that Clayton had put grass in the bottle. (As Clayton had never left the room, I wasn't sure how he accomplished this.) Myles dumped out the remaining water, and now he was upset that he had no water. I pointed out that the school had water fountains made to fill water bottles. But the school water was warm and didn't taste good. Myles had had "good" water that was cold.

Deep sigh.

It was one thing after another with Myles. His table mates were antagonizing him. He couldn't do something else. On and on and on. (He's that kid. So, none of this surprised me.)

Then, Corbin. "The teachers at this school all hate me."

I told him I was sure that wasn't true. 

"What? You hate me."

I denied this. Because, I don't hate him. He annoys me. But hate? Nope. 

It was a day of constant motion, keeping the kiddos contained. But many actually did the assignment. (They were completing a storyboard based on a story they read: "Thank You, M'am" by Langston Hughes.) Typical seventh grade stuff.

One Last Thing

A sub credential only allows me to cover one class for up to thirty days. This was extended to sixty days the last couple of years, because *gestures to everything*. But it appears that we are sufficiently back to normal, and the number of days I can cover one class will remain at thirty.

Last Friday was day thirty of the school year. 

We all kept an eye on this, and the teacher next door (Ms. W) who's been supplying me with help and lesson plans kept an eye out for a sub to replace me. 

Ms. W realized that Mr. H might be a good next sub. (I wrote about him a few months ago.) And so, those that do these things got him all lined up. 

I asked for and got two days of transition. So, Mr. H started on Thursday. We had two days in the class together so I could pass off everything to him. 

The one thing I wanted to get finished before I left was grading the students' lab safety posters.

In about week three, the students got an assignment about lab safety. There were rules to read and activities to complete. The last activity was a poster they were to create about one of the lab safety rules. 

This particular assignment kept getting pushed back. The kiddos would get ten minutes to work on it, and then class would be over. I'd plan to give them more time for it, but the other lessons would take too much time. After three tries to find time in class to do it, I gave it up. I figured they just wouldn't get it done, and we could skip it.

But then it was test day, and there was about a half hour of class time to fill. Lab safety poster.

The whole thing was a mess, so leaving that mess of grading to Mr. H? Nope. Didn't want to do it. 

But, time just evaporated. I had a hair appointment Tuesday afternoon. Then Wednesday I got pulled into something else. And it was Thursday. The moments I might have stolen to do some grading were the moments I used to go over things Mr. H needed (and when Mr. H asked me questions about what he was unclear on). 

(On Thursday Mr. H taught about half of the lesson. On Friday he did all of it. He's good. The class is in good hands.) 

So, it was Friday. Class time was busy. (Sure, Mr. H taught the lesson, but I assisted. And they were doing a rotating stations thing, so having two adults was a good thing.) Finally, at the end of the day, I said I had to get those posters graded. 

Mr. H offered to do some of it. I observed that there were other assignments the kiddos had turned in. (Sure, I would have liked to have gotten those graded, too, but they were technically on his watch, so I felt less guilty leaving them to him.) 

In the end, I got five of the periods graded. Mr. H graded the last one. And I was able to leave the class having mostly gotten the grading from my time done.

And now I am once again free to join the subbing pool. Back to the day-to-day. And I don't feel even a little worried about the classes I left as I know they're in capable hands.

The Retest

The prior week the kiddos had their first test. And it went rather well.  

One of the things the seventh grade science teachers have been doing, though, is offering a retest. Any kiddo who wants to gets the opportunity to redo the test, keeping the higher of the two scores. 

There's a catch. They have to do a review paper before they can take the test. 

Wednesday, first period. I had five students (out of a class of thirty), turn in the review. 

When I mentioned the review, several students who probably should have attempted a retake decided not to. "Too much work." Okay, then.

One student who wanted a retake? She got nineteen on her first attempt. Out of twenty. 

She wanted that perfect score. 

And she got it. 

(I had a few perfect scores. Many nineteens. And eighteens. Like I said, the test went rather well.) 

Fifth period. I had two students who had been absent on the day of the test, and four students who wanted a retake. 

Then, at the end of the period, a boy approached. He wanted to know what he could do to raise his grade. He had a C. His mom had threatened him with consequences if he didn't get his grade up to an A.

(One of the consequences was giving away his dog to his aunt. Which seems a bit harsh.)

His grades weren't bad. He had a few assignments where he didn't get full points. He had gotten a C on the test. (The test was 40% of their grade. This will dilute a bit once they've had more tests.) 

I guess I'm a soft touch. I said he could retake the test even though he hadn't done the review. 

And? He scored two points lower than his initial attempt. 

Ah well. He tried. (And he kept the higher score, so he didn't lose anything.) 

Of the retesters, about half gained a point or two. The other half lost a point or two. 

Urgency

These middle schoolers...

There's this boy who asked to go by K3 in class (so since that's anonymous enough, I'll use it here). He has his moments of being a reasonable student and then he has other moments of play. So, typical seventh grader. 

I've had issues with getting the kiddos to turn in their work. I tell them when it's due. I call for it. But many don't have it done even though they had time in class to complete it (or I let them finish what they didn't finish in class for homework). 

But, the general rule is they can turn in late work, and I'm okay with this as I'd rather they turn it in and get credit rather than taking the F. (I want them to succeed.) 

So, last week K3 gave me a stack of four or five assignments that he was missing. Okay, fine. But then he follows it up with:

"You need to grade these quickly. My dad won't let me play sports until I get my grades up."

Um...

Wisely, I did not reply. He handed them to me at the end of class, as he was leaving. And I chose not to give him a piece of my mind.

Because, really? Him not turning his work in a timely manner makes it my responsibility to input those grades immediately? 

*taps sign*

I knew I'd need this image someday.

Over the weekend, I took home some grading. I got it input into the gradebook and everything. (It felt great to be caught up Monday morning.) First thing Monday morning I found an email from Nadia. 

Nadia stated that she was missing an assignment in the gradebook that she had turned in. 

I don't normally lose student work. (I don't even lose pens or socks. It's freakish, really.) But, I took a quick look just to make sure I hadn't overlooked it. Nope. But, I did have one paper missing a name.

I emailed this back to Nadia. The next time she was in class, she checked the paper. Yup, it was hers. She put her name on it and gave it back to me.

I'm lucky in that I have a last period conference period. When my last class leaves, I have a full period of time to close out the day and get prepped for the next one. I have made it my habit to go through the stack of late turned in work right after I've noted any things I need to note from the day (keeping track of who was tardy and who had a cell phone, that sort of thing). 

I had just gotten through the stack of late work, and I was checking email before moving on to the next thing that needed my attention. Nadia had sent me an email. I noted the time of the email. 3:01 PM. I looked at the clock. It was 3:04 PM. 

Nadia reminded me that she had resubmitted her assignment and it needed to be entered into the gradebook. 

Ahem.

I was sorely tempted to go into the gradebook and erase the score. But I am an adult. I resisted.

I went back to the email as I was going to add it to this post. Reading it now, it doesn't sound as bad as it sounded when I read it the first time. The first time, I was a bit put out. Because, I had just entered her grade into the gradebook. Right when she sent the email. 

I mean, I get where the kiddos are coming from. And I'm keeping up with the grading. Really. I am. 

But when they insist I take care of their stuff immediately? That they got to me late?

*shakes head* Middle schoolers...

The New Cell Phone Rules

Because cell phones are an ongoing problem, at the end of the last school year the teachers at the middle school got together to come up with a school-wide policy. 

When I started this long-term assignment, I was filled in on the policy, and I've been enforcing it since the beginning. 

Basically, the students must leave their cell phones in their backpacks. (In the science class, the rule has been that the students leave their backpacks in the back of the room during class.) If I see the phone, I can take it. Depending upon how many infractions the student has, they can get it back at the end of class, or they must retrieve it from the main office. 

(I hear the 8th graders have really hated this policy, but the 7th graders don't know it was ever different.) 

I have not had to confiscate many phones. I remind the kiddos to keep them in their backpacks, and most have complied.

Thursday. Sixth period.

It was test day. We did a review Kahoot! I decided to award the winners prizes. Second place winner came up to get her prize... with her cell phone in her hand. Deep sigh.

It was her first offense, so she got the phone back at the end of the period. On the one hand I felt bad. She got punished for getting a prize. But then again, her phone wasn't where it was supposed to be.

A bit later, another student was called to the main office. The rest of the class was taking the test. When the student returned, I went over to her to let her know what she needed to do with the test. That's when I spied her cell phone sitting on her chair...

So, I got to confiscate another cell phone from another girl who hadn't given me any issues. Another deep sigh.

I guess I have to remind them daily to put their cell phones away in their backpacks. (I do actually announce it as the students arrive in class daily.) At least they're not using them in class, but it's a matter of time.

Because, they're not "forgetting" to put them away. They're sneaking them. They want the phones on them "for emergencies". And I understand. But I also know they don't have the maturity to leave them alone, so they really need to keep them away during class.

While the class was taking their test, I walked the room. I heard music. It was a phone ringing. From a backpack. 

I left that one alone. The phone was where it needed to be. And the ringing stopped after just a bit.

Bad Timing

Monday. I arrived early to get some stuff done. That's when I saw the email about the "social media threats". It was non-specific, and I really didn't want to know any more. We were assured that administration was dealing with the issue.

But, "threats". 

I wasn't terribly surprised when first period arrived and a third of the kiddos were missing.

And now I had a dilemma. The next class session they were to have a test. And while I had hinted at this test the prior week, I hadn't officially announced it. 

Luckily, they do have a Google Classroom.

So, I posted the study guide assignment in Google Classroom for the missing students, and we went on with our day.

(From what I've been able to pick up, the threats were directed at another school, but then picked up on social media towards other schools. Law enforcement was notified. Nothing happened at school that day.) 

When test day rolled around, some of the students who had missed were a bit surprised by the test. But, when I started the class back in August, I read through the syllabus with them, and I explained that it was the responsibility of the student to find out what they missed if they were out of school. 

I reminded them of this, and then I told them, "A good place to start is to see if I've put anything into Google Classroom." 

(I keep a list of the daily agendas in Google Classroom. I have since week two. I showed them all this.)

When I went to collect their study guides, I got a surprise. A couple students who had been absent actually had papers to turn in. They were a bit worried about having done it on paper (rather than the worksheets I had passed out that they didn't get because they were absent), but I assured them that paper was perfect. 

Some of them are paying attention. And some of them are trying. (Actually, more than some.) 

When I went to check, some of the absent students had actually done the assignment digitally. (Which was fine.) 

I mean, there are a whole bunch of students who didn't do it. But I was pleased how many had figured out how to take care of what they needed to do. (And as I accept late work, those that missed out can still turn it in.) 

This is excellent for seventh graders. I'm rather pleased.

And as for the test, it went rather well. The grades were pretty good on average.

Flying Objects

In the introductory unit for the seventh grade science class, we were studying the engineering design process. To really understand it, they got to do an activity using it. 

Building catapults. 

Ahem.

There are three seventh grade science teachers at the school (I am covering for one of them). We got together to discuss what project to do (they have four that they rotate through depending on the year), and the other two decided it was a catapult year. 

And I could just see the chaos. 

I mean, the actual assignment was for them to build something that would send a small object flying across the classroom. 

It was a very long, loud day. 

I mean, I'm sure it was fun for them. They were only allowed to use five items to build the thing (and five of each item), so they could use five popsicle sticks, five pencils, five rubber bands, a spoon, and something to launch. They were to make something that could launch the cotton ball a meter. 

Some managed to make catapults that launched their projectile across the room. 

They were allowed to use computers, so many found some great designs online. (To get an idea, many made this one.) 

But it was not fun for me. I'm glad it's over. 

I can see the end of my thirty day stint approaching. (My credential only allows me to teach a class for thirty days. Then I will pass this class off to another sub.) While I'll be sad to leave, after this lesson, I won't be that sad. 

No more catapult lessons in the offing, though. The following week they got their first test. *insert evil grin here*

Absolutely Not

Archie and Alvin. The boys I talked about last week. So, this was fifth period.

I had swapped Alvin and another boy, but that other boy was absent (and has gone on independent study, so he won't be back for a while), so at the beginning of class a day after I had made the switch...

"Can I move back to that seat? We'll be good..."

Alvin was practically sitting in Archie's lap. The two would not stop talking. Even after I asked them to. Repeatedly. 

"We promise. We won't talk."

Um, right.

I would have made the joke that the two of them act like they're in love, but I wasn't going to humiliate them in front of their peers. And it might be the truth.

Because, seriously, the way they were together... Yeah, I can see a spark. They work as a couple.

But, seventh graders. Things are more open nowadays, and there's less of a stigma, but seventh graders. 

Anyway, I did say no. Pretty emphatically. I wasn't even tempted. I didn't feel even a little badly about it. 

I'm doing them a favor, really. 

Because, seriously, they could not focus on the lesson and sit next to each other. I'm protecting their science grade.

That Middle School Attitude

It was the end of first period. Corbin approached. He couldn't figure out how to get into the student portal to look at his grades, so he asked me to pull them up for him. 

(One of the great things about long term assignments is full access to the gradebook software. I can click on any of "my" students and pull up all of their current grades. Honestly though, I rarely look.)

He had mostly A's with a D in PE...

Me: "Have you not been dressing out?"

Corbin: "Ms. B hates me. She says I have attitude." And he looked genuinely perplexed. 

So, let me back up a minute. Corbin... Well... When I gave him back an assignment as it wasn't completely done (and we still had half a period to go, so he had time), he complained that he always gets A's in science, and he did the assignment well enough.

And he's the one who actually did the whole, "When does my real teacher start?" to me. (He's only met me. As Ms. S doesn't return until February, I've been non-specific about how long she'd be out. That's a long time for seventh graders.) 

So, uh, yeah, I can confirm Ms. B's assessment. Attitude.

To Corbin's look, I gave a look back. 

Me: "Well, uh..."

He genuinely has no clue that he acts like he knows everything. Which... tracks, really. 

What's funny is once I separated him from the other boy in class who's a disruption, Corbin's been okay. (Other than his smugness.) I kind of like him. And he does do his work. 

As for the attitude, well, he'll likely grow out of it. Or decide to become a surgeon. One or the other, really.