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. 

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.

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. 

Zzzzzz

Thursday. Seventh grade Spanish I for Spanish Speakers. Eighth period. 

They had a student teacher, so the class went on as normal. For this day, the students were doing oral presentations on various Central and South American countries. In Spanish. 

The student teacher taught the class in Spanish. 

I may have mentioned before that the language I took in school was French. 

So, yeah, I wasn't understanding a whole lot of what was going on. I mean, I got the gist, but I definitely didn't get the specifics. 

I may have also mentioned that I write about what happened last week, so this happened on April 30th. As it was the last day of the A to Z Challenge, I had distracted myself all day by reading blogs. But by eighth period I had completed that. 

And there's just something about sitting there while the kiddos were going through slides about Cuba, speaking in Spanish way better than I could ever attempt, that did not help my drowsiness. 

Sometimes, before bed, I'll play on my phone or I'll read. And there's that point where I kind of blank out, and when I go back and try to continue what I was doing, I'll realize I'm not comprehending anything I'm doing, and it's time to put that all aside and go to sleep. This is what I was feeling while in that eighth period class. 

Not good.

While I was not actively teaching, I was still there as an observer. (It's a legal thing. Since the student teacher isn't employed by the district, a district employee needs to be present.) And I was fading, fast. 

I needed something to wake me up. I checked my email. I flipped through some catalogs. I worked on the note to the teacher (which was largely unneeded because the student teacher would see her the next day). 

Even the fidgety seventh graders couldn't keep my attention. (And they were not behaving well.) 

Did I fall asleep? No. Well... I took a lot of micro naps. I definitely blanked out, many times, but not for long at all each time. 

Not ideal, but somehow I managed to stay mostly awake. 

(I did not stay up too late the night before, and I had gotten a good night's sleep. I should not have been that tired. But some days...)

Seventh Grade

Thursday. Seventh grade math. First period. 

It was a co-taught class, and I was subbing for the special ed teacher, so Ms. G ran her class as usual. The topic for the day was percentages. 

Ms. G explained the formula to them, gave examples, gave them a chance to try some problems, went over those problems so the kiddos knew what to do, and then she gave them problems to work on. Typical math class. 

And typical seventh graders. 

One boy just sat there, kind of staring off into space. Ms. G was doing notes, and he wasn't copying down what she was writing. When I tried to get him to do something, he said he didn't know what to do. Well, start with copying the notes she was demonstrating for him. That's a good place to start. 

Seventh graders think they can talk and work. What they end up doing is going off on tangents and getting no work done. So, while they were allowed to "work together", they weren't getting as much done as they could. 

Well, at least I could help them when they needed it. Mostly. And for a seventh grade class, they weren't too horrible. 

The Stench

Tuesday. Seventh grade English. Sixth period.

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

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

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

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

Enzo asked to use the restroom. 

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

My initial answer: no. But then I considered.

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

Yes, please, take that nonsense outside. 

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

Alas, some of them never learn that particular lesson. 

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

All Excuses

Friday. Period three, study skills.

Study skills is just a fancy way of saying study hall. I mean, technically the teacher is supposed to have curriculum that teaches skills for studying, but most of the kiddos who really want that are in AVID or success. (Or even if they don't but have someone urging them in that direction.) Study skills is the special ed equivalent, and most of the time, the teacher gives them time to work on missing assignments. 

This is a very long-winded way of saying that I had a class that had nothing to do. They were allowed to be on their phones once they were done with all their work. They were done with all their work. 

Except...

I had an instructional assistant, and she warned me of Nick. In semester one, Nick had claimed that he was doing all his work and he had no homework. Alas, his semester grades showed these claims to be lies. Miss B no longer trusted him. 

Miss B then told me that Nick would have many excuses. His work would be on paper, but the paper would be at home. And as it was homework, he'd do it at home. 

Nick arrived. Miss B asked him what he had to work on. He told her he didn't have anything. But Miss B wasn't having that.

It came out that Nick had some maps to complete for his history class, but he had left the papers at home. Miss B sent him to his teacher to get another copy. Upon his return, Miss B sent him to his math teacher to get work from her. 

And then, while he was out, I got a call from the speech therapist. Nick was needed for speech therapy. 

Naturally. 

Miss B set up his computer so the map he'd need was on the screen. She made sure he had everything he needed to complete his work. And when he returned, he did work. Kind of. 

I looked down at his map of the Middle East, and on the Arabian Peninsula he had written "France". He did get Africa and Asia in the right places, though. (My knowledge of geography is pretty terrible, but I can locate France.) 

When I pointed out where various of the list of places he needed to label were, he immediately wrote those down. But he was slow walking the looking up and figuring out where the places were on his own. I wasn't going to do it for him, so I walked away.

If you want to get something done, you find a way. If you don't, you find an excuse. Nick was all about the excuses. Sigh. 

One would hope that at some point he'll want good grades. Until then, he's going to fight us about doing his work. 

He's young. He may grow out of it. 

Finishing Reward

Last week I ended up with an unexpected vacation. There were just no sub jobs to be had. So, when on Thursday night I was able to snag a gig, I didn't even mind that it was a middle school class for a teacher I've heard the students complain about. And according to the calendar, an assembly was scheduled. 

It turned out to be a dual language immersion class, so while it was a middle school history class (world history for seventh grade and U.S history for eighth grade), it was taught in Spanish. 

Of course, this isn't an issue on sub days. It wasn't a class for Spanish speakers; it was a class for students who were working on being fluent in Spanish. I'd had many in other classes. They spoke English fluently. 

Fifth period. Seventh grade world history. 

It was after the assembly (Olympics-themed) and after lunch. So, basically everything for a crazy period. But, they were actually not too terrible, for middle schoolers. 

I was to sign off their packets (per the teacher's instructions) when they finished. When I explained the assignment, one boy asked, "What if I already finished?" Because naturally. 

I couldn't check his work because it was in Spanish, but he had written something for each question. From what I had seen earlier in the day, it appeared that he had, in fact, finished the assignment. And at times like that, I let them have free time. (No reason to give extra work to the one student who is ahead.) 

I walked the room. Ended up behind the kiddo who had finished. He was playing a game on the Chromebook. It took me a moment to recall he was finished so as to not growl at him for being off task. I moved on. 

"You're not going to say anything about him playing a game." 

This was from another student. (No one complained about a student on a game while I was at the front of the room.) I shrugged and said he had finished his work. 

"Does that mean we can play games in class?"

Without coming out and saying yes, I heavily implied that I wouldn't care, once they were done with the day's assignment. 

I did sign off most of the students' papers, so apparently they didn't get too distracted by games or such. 

It's really all I want most days in classes like that. It was nice things didn't go the way I had feared. 

Not Seeking Help

Wednesday. Seventh grade English, special ed. 

A couple of the students had to finish their district writing assessment. The rest had a grammar packet to work on. 

I had been warned that the class could be "chatty". Most days that's not a big deal, but the students who still had to finish their writing assessment needed a quiet room. Luckily, I had an instructional aide who knew the kiddos and was able to call them out when they wouldn't settle. 

But seventh graders. 

Mostly the room was calm. But then Dante started talking to his neighbor Garfield. Not loudly, but it was distracting enough. So, I meandered over there. 

I stood between Dante and Garfield. Hovering. Dante looked up at me. And asked me a question. About the assignment. He was stuck. 

Okay, then. That's something I can help with. 

I answered Dante's question. I helped him enough so that he could continue on with the assignment. I went back to the teacher's desk. 

A few minutes later Dante's talking again. Again, I meandered over. And again, it turned out that Dante was stuck. 

By the third time I asked Dante why he didn't just raise his hand to ask for help, rather than turning to his neighbor. (They were not discussing the assignment. The energy of the conversation was playing, not academic.) Dante replied that he thought that if he contemplated the question enough, he could figure it out. 

Well, clearly not. Clearly when he got stuck, he distracted himself with talking to his neighbor. 

This is not unusual. Nowadays, kiddos rarely raise their hands. They rarely ask for help. Unless I'm standing there. If I'm in front of them, they'll take that opportunity to ask a question. But they won't seek me out if they're stuck. They'll stay stuck. 

I'm not sure why this is. But it's something I can work with. 

Their Instructions

Friday. Halloween. Seventh grade science...

(If anyone recalls how I started last school year--long term for a maternity leave for a seventh grade science teacher--this room might look familiar. Yup, this is Ms. S's class, the class I covered last August/September.)

Because Halloween, Ms. S left a movie. Wall-E. Since the classes are 90 minutes long (block schedule), the kiddos started with a vocab assignment. 

The definitions were written on the white board. Then they were to illustrate the terms and use the terms in a sentence. They've done this before. Several wanted computers to look up images, but Ms. S said no computers. 

(I covered the class about a month ago, and I severely limited computer access per instructions. Those students who managed to find a good enough excuse to get permission to use a computer proved why no computers was the better way to go.) 

It was time to start the movie. But, while many of them had finished the assignment, many still had not completed copying the definitions of the terms. I warned them that I was going to pull down the screen, so they had only a couple minutes left for that task. 

Ms. S had left the movie on DVD and had that hooked up to her projector. 

The projectors were new technology a short time ago. They have been supplanted by the big TVs, but some teachers prefer the projectors. And in some cases those work better for some applications. 

I had not had a chance to test the equipment, but unlike with yesterday's post, I was sure this DVD player actually worked. But I wanted to have everything ready to go before I told a class of seventh graders that we were starting the movie. 

I turned on the projector. Then I turned on the DVD player. It immediately went into starting the movie... 

"You have to pull down the screen." 

"Turn out the lights." 

"I can't see the movie."

"Six seven..."

"We passed this part already." 

I didn't respond as they all shouted out instructions. Because really? I had it. Everything was working. And I was still waiting on one or two students to finish copying down the definitions before I pulled down the screen. 

So, I waited. I haven't quite figured out how to shame them into calming down. I can't compete with them all shouting instructions at me. But if I say nothing, they seem to think that I'm not hearing them or I don't understand what they're telling me. 

Eventually I was ready to get it all started. I explained that we were about ready to go, and that's when I pulled down the screen and fast forwarded to about the 20 minute mark (which was where Ms. S said they left off). 

That age just loves to explain things. They make sure the sub knows how things are supposed to go. Even though this sub did know what needed doing. 

As far as Halloweens go, this one was relatively sedate. 

Some previous Halloweens: 

• Bubble Gum Physics
• How to Address a Postcard
• A Gig on Halloween

One Small Detail

Wednesday. Seventh period success, eighth grade. 

Success is about teaching the kiddos study skills. There's some social/emotional stuff as well. (I've talked about covering this type of class before.) 

The class was across the way and a couple doors down from the art class. There were some familiar faces. And I knew what I was in for. But the teacher, while small, is mighty, so I wasn't anticipating any issues... 

They had an assignment online. I had them log in. They found the assignment, only the assignment didn't contain any assignment. 

That is, the assignment existed, but the teacher had forgotten to attach the slides that the students needed to do the assignment. 

It was a good-sized class. Full. And these sorts of students don't take to waiting too well. Let's just say they came in loud and not having something to focus on meant that instead of settling down, they got louder. 

I don't like to bother teachers when they're out, but this was a time when I was glad the teacher had left her cell phone number. I texted her... 

Before I went to text her, I had told the kiddos to work on missing assignments. Were they? Of course not. They were treating the time like free time, with half the kiddos sitting on the floor, and others were roaming around, getting into mischief. Sigh. 

Eventually, we got me logged into her account, and I was able to upload the slides to the assignment. Whew? Well, not so fast. 

Usually, when we assign the kiddos something, we "make a copy for each student" so they can edit the files. They each do their work and submit. But (something I learned the hard way a couple years ago) you can't give each student a copy when you attach something to an assignment already assigned. You can only do this when the assignment is being created. 

But earlier in the week (or was it last week? it's all starting to run together) I covered a class where they made their own copies of an assignment and attached it. So, I went to talk the class through what they had to do. 

As I explained, I got a couple good questions, so those who were following along were able to get the assignment to work. But after I got them started, I got more questions... 

Some students were able to get this to work. Others needed me to walk them through it. Individually. Sigh. 

Eventually I got to every student who couldn't figure it out on their own. Or, at least the ones who were asking. So, hopefully, they were able to complete it. 

Technology. Makes some things easier, makes other things harder. 

At least I knew enough to take away the excuse that they were unable to do the work. 

Keeping Up with the Cool Boys

Friday. Sixth period seventh grade science. 

They had an assignment on geology. It was done in stations. That is, the class had three different activities to complete with a third of the class doing each activity. I timed them, having them move on to the next activity after 15-20 minutes had elapsed. (I was familiar with the assignment as it was the last thing I did with seventh grade science class last year as I finished up my 30 days.) 

Because Ms. W said it didn't matter who was in which group, I asked for volunteers to start the rock measuring station. (There were rocks that they were to "observe". They had to draw them, use a ruler to measure them, weigh them, and roll them.) Of course, the boys who volunteered... 

Yeah, so it didn't go well. The boys played around. They should have been measuring rocks. They were making jokes. (Not that you can't joke and work, but seventh graders. They can do one or the other, not both.) They were running. They were mock fighting. You know, the usual. 

I reminded them they had limited time. And when the timer went off, I told them it was time to move on to station two. 

But no. They weren't finished... 

Yeah, they weren't finished. Not shocked. But that was their fault for wasting time. 

I stood over them and shooed them back to their seats. Time. Was. Up. 

Hugo wasn't happy. Hugo had been trying to work, but the other boys... It's hard to work in that kind of chaos. I was sorry, but time was up. I told Hugo that he had to go back to his seat. He burst into tears.

Hugo pulled it together and went back to his seat. As did the other boys. I got a new group to the observing rocks station (a much calmer group), and we moved on. 

What I had forgotten was that Hugo had a one-to-one aide. Before going on his lunch break, he told me that if something went wrong, I was to send Hugo to his case carrier. Which I didn't do, because forgot. (There was lots going on. I am not shocked I forgot.) 

When the aide returned from his lunch, he asked how things had gone. And I told him. 

The aide proceeded to take the rest of the period to get reports from the other students as to what went down. Sigh. Apparently, Hugo's meltdown was a level 1, which was good, as Hugo has been known to lash out when he gets upset... 

I guess I dodged a bullet. 

Of course I let Ms. W know what went down. Her response was that Hugo "wants to work with the 'cool boys' but does not actually handle the chaos very well". 

Those are the "cool boys"? Yikes. Seventh graders really have terrible taste. 

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.