Phoning It In

Signs I've been subbing too long:

When I got the keys for the day, the secretary told me that Mr. J was in room 908. But I knew that was wrong. I knew that Mr. J was in room 911. Room 908 doesn't really exist. So, I asked for the key to room 911. 

I got to where Mr. J's room was, between rooms 910 and 912, and sure enough, the door now says room 908. I tried the key for 908, but it didn't work. I tried the key for 911 which did. 

So... why? One day (a day I was on the campus for, it happened last year when I was in that vacant art class) people on campus tried calling Mr. J in his classroom. The number to dial is the room number. But on this day, that 911 ended up going straight to the outside emergency line, and it broke the entire school's phone system. 

They reprogrammed his phone to extension 908 (as nothing else worked and that extension number was free), and I guess they had to make the room number match the extension number. 

Once in the room I found no lesson plans. But as the kiddos were arriving, the phone rang. Mr. J. I knew he wasn't going to leave me hanging, but he was running late, and he let me know to stall until he got there. (He was going to be out of class for a meeting, but he'd be on campus.) 

And after getting the kiddos going (he got there shortly after I took roll), he promised to put another assignment into Google Classroom for the students who were ahead. Alas, he did not do this as once he got to his meeting he got involved in his meeting. 

(I texted him to remind him, but he didn't check his phone until way later. Not in time for that class, but he put the assignment in for the next group.)

The class? Eighth grade science. 

The last class of the day was 8th grade success. It's basically a study skills class. Mr. J had thrown together a plan, and I was in the process of getting them started when another adult arrived. She explained that she was there to do a drug prevention presentation to the group. 

Considering how the day had gone thus far, I was not terribly surprised that Mr. J had forgotten. 

Did the kiddos pay attention? Once the presenter bribed them with candy, they were more receptive to the information. 

Some days... 

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. 

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. 

The Chills

Whenever I find myself dealing with a challenging class, the teacher usually says something about them being "good kids". Only once before has a teacher referred to a kiddo as "evil". (I don't know if I wrote about her at the time, but I had her in a class later. This student.) 

I have encountered another. 

Damien (alias picked for obvious reasons) was noted in the lesson plan as "he won't do any work, but he won't disrupt the class". 

Okay, then. Tuesday. Eighth period. Eighth grade success. 

They were working on a Mission Map. They were to figure out a mission statement (for their life, I guess) and their four pillars (ideals of some sort), and then they were to make a poster with this information. 

They were given a packet of work to go through with setting goals and figuring out where they wanted their life to go. (This is the end of the year, so it was kind of a culmination assignment going over stuff they've been talking about all year.) They had instructions online. Ms. T said she went over all the instructions the week prior, so they should have known what to do.

But eighth graders with a sub for a week. They played weaponized incompetence. 

So, I wasn't much watching Damien. I did note that his desk had brown marker all over it. And he clearly wasn't doing any work. As promised. 

Half way through the period I passed out poster board. They were to make a poster, after all, and while I did not expect them to start the poster yet, I wanted them to have the materials they'd need. 

I warned them that they would only get one sheet of poster paper. (Otherwise the middle schoolers will make a mistake and need another. Not all, but most of them will. This is not my first rodeo. I know how they work.) 

And while most of the kiddos continued with their packets, Damien folded his poster paper into little boxes, and then he proceeded to tear them into little cards. Okay, then... 

I had Damien in class again on Thursday. The first thing he did was to grab the bottle of glue... 

Oh, no. Absolutely not. 

I took that glue from him so fast. (I didn't know what he was going to do with it, but it wasn't going to be good.) Then I noticed he had a blue marker. I attempted to take that away from him... 

And that's when I saw it. He kind of growled at me. 

Not his marker, but I decided not to have that fight. 

I tried to get him on task. I mentioned that he had already destroyed his poster paper. "Oh, was that what it was for?" Someone wasn't listening when instructions were given. 

But, I did give him another packet. (I had extra.) He then did with that what he had done with the poster paper. 

We kind of looked at each other. Damien just looked at me... Yeah, I like to joke that eighth graders are evil, but it is a joke. I know they'll grow out of it. They really are good kids. But Damien... 

Before I could contemplate how to get the blue marker away from him so he didn't make a mess of the desk again, the school psychologist came in and asked to take him for counseling. 

Yeah, I was good with that. Sadly, he returned after a half hour. 

Damien did not do any work. But he did not sacrifice any small creatures, so a win? (And I was able to clean off the desk.) 

Success (the Class) 13

If I commented on your blog last week, I apologize. I wasn't entirely mentally there. It was a long, hard week in the eighth grade success class. I don't have a lot of good stories, but I have a lot of little things that happened. Which makes this the perfect time for a Thursday 13. 

ONE

The assignment was to make a Mission Map. They had instructions. They had resources online. Ms. T had discussed it the week before. (She said this in the lesson plans, and I believe her.) But they had no clue what to do. More likely, they weren't listening when Ms. T was instructing, and they weren't bothering to read through all the materials to figure it out. 

TWO

Ms. T said they were to leave their phones in a phone box that all the teachers at that school have for just that purpose. They've been doing this all year. But with me? They "got their phone taken away". They "didn't have a phone". Yet, I saw many of them had a phone in their pockets.

I got irritated with this, so I took pictures of the mostly empty phone box each period. And I emailed them to the teacher. Petty, but I don't care. 

THREE

Beginning of seventh period, Monday. I warned students should be in their assigned seats. They said they were. I knew they were not as one of the kiddos I knew, and he was not in the seat indicated with his name on the seating chart. When I called him out on it, four other students suddenly knew where they were supposed to sit, too. (Names were noted.) 

FOUR

The fire alarm went off. Seventh period. As this is not the school where this happens frequently, the kiddos all ran out the door. We barely got down the stairs when an assistant principal shooed us back to class. False alarm. 

FIVE

Allergy season? Colds? Or an excuse... In sixth period they managed to go through a box of tissue as several boys kept getting up to go "blow their nose" outside. In groups. Every couple minutes. (I made a blanket rule that only one person could blow their nose at a time, that's how crazy that got.) 

SIX

Sixth period, Tuesday. Blake asked to use the restroom. (After refusing to sit in his assigned seat and giving me a false name.) He was on the escort list, so I called for security to escort him. He left before they arrived. And then he returned with popcorn. Sigh. (And acted clueless when I told him he was supposed to wait for an escort.)

SEVEN

Third period, Wednesday. Fire alarm went off. I figured it was another false alarm, but no. We evacuated. (Someone *ahem* didn't grab the evacuation stuff: roll sheet, sign, backpack, because she assumed it was a false alarm.) And that was a very long walk for someone who was already feeling the week. At least most of them made it back to the classroom before me. (That's good.) The three that took their time... Well, that's what detailed notes to the teacher are for.

EIGHT

Seventh period. A girl got a hold of one boy's paper, and was very loud about how she could not read it. They passed around the paper. Passed it to me. (Yeah, the writing was bad, but most of their writing is bad. It wasn't out of the ordinary bad.) Announced to the class that the boy had bad writing. And that he really needed to work on it. 

NINE

On Thursday and Friday they had guest speakers. Apparently, the state of California has a fund for students to use as a scholarship fund, and the speakers were walking them through claiming the accounts. 

Sixth period was embarrassing. You'd think they'd know how to behave for a guest, but no. Getting up for no reason. Not listening. Talking over the speakers. Yeah, it didn't go well. 

TEN

There were two kiddos who were tasked with making sure the Chromebooks were all plugged in at the end of the day. Odd day monitor did an excellent job. Even day monitor... Sigh. And I like this kid. Had him in the art class. He'll mature eventually, but right now he's giving in to his baser impulses. (Although, he had the best reaction to how much money he had in his CalKIDS account: "I've never seen that much money before in my life". It was about $1500.) 

ELEVEN

Joaquin, one of my problem kiddos in period one (see yesterday), asked for his work during first period Friday. I assumed he was not eligible for the CalKIDS scholarship, so I was going to send him out of class so as to not disturb the others with the presentation. One of the presenters: "He's eligible". Then why was he ignoring...? Free money for college...? Did he do what he needed to do to claim the money? Nope.

TWELVE

Third period, a student disappeared. Not to restroom (as I was keeping an eye on them). I stepped outside to see, but he was not there blowing his nose. He returned a bit later. Where was he? Oh, he had just gone to take something to his history teacher without asking permission. (I think the history teacher was next door, but still!)

THIRTEEN

If this was a Thursday 20 I could make it work. It was a hard week. I emailed all of this (plus what I couldn't include) to Ms. T. I received a reply. I don't think the kiddos are going to enjoy the consequences. 

Within the first day I learned that the kiddos were being bribed. For a good note they were going to get a pizza party. Most of the kiddos knew that they were not getting a pizza party. (Some tried to get me to "write a good note". I explained that I write an accurate note. It's good if they choose to be good.) 

Ms. T has a note on her board: Be Good Humans. Hopefully they will be. Just not with a sub last week.

Stupid Eighth Grade Games

I caught a week-long assignment in an eighth grade success class. And it was as bad as I anticipated. Oh well. 

Ms. T left me a packet of instructions with students who were likely to be issues and places to send them to. Many of the kiddos I had met in other classes, starting with that vacant art class at the beginning of the year. 

First period. Monday. 

Six boys spent the period in play mode. 

If I wasn't spending the period putting out (figurative) fires, I would have written down a list of their random conversations. They were at various parts of the room, so their conversations involved the whole class. And nothing would make them settle. 

So, when I had them again on Wednesday, I had a hair trigger. (The school is on a block schedule, so each period meets every other day.) 

Class hadn't quite started when Royce dropped an f-bomb loud enough for me to hear it. I didn't hear the conversation, but Royce had spent Monday joking with Antonio, and that was a good enough reason to send him out of class. (A neighboring teacher had offered to take a kiddo if need be.) 

Once Royce was gone, Ignacio started in. Well, not started. He sat in a corner, and he didn't do all that much. I had had him in the art class, and in the times I've seen him since then, he's only behaved worse. He was on Ms. T's list of students to look out for, and I was already irritated. So, out Ignacio went. 

As Ignacio was packing up, Joaquin decided it was a good time to start a rock-paper-scissors competition with Ignacio. I went to stand between them. Joaquin tilted a little so he could continue to see Ignacio on the other side of me. Okay, then, Joaquin just volunteered to go, too. 

I told Joaquin to go to the room directly below the one we were in. At this point Joaquin remembered he was on the escort list. (A fact he denied on Monday.) He refused to leave the room without an escort. 

Luckily, I had already called one for Ignacio (who was being sent to the in-house detention room), so I just asked her to escort Joaquin downstairs. She agreed. 

Three down. The class got very quiet. 

Then, Antonio started to talk... 

Me: "Do you want to work in another class, too?" 

I had three more classrooms to send kiddos to. 

Antonio wisely decided that that conversation was not one he wanted to have. 

It was amazing how peaceful things got once they were gone. Well, for a little while. 

The students complained of some high pitched tone. "Can't you hear that?" 

I didn't hear a thing. I closed the door. They said it didn't help. 

That's when I remembered the tones that only teenagers can hear. I spent a class period playing the tones several years back. 

So, I mentioned that someone was probably playing tones on their Chromebook that only the kiddos in the room could hear. As I am old, I was deaf to it. 

Kiddos were plugging their ears. Complaining. But as I couldn't hear it, I couldn't determine where it was coming from. 

The kiddo managed to annoy their classmates and their classmates only. 

I sat back. Watched for issues I could deal with. 

The kiddo must have decided that me not reacting at all wasn't any fun. The rest of the class no longer seemed to have an issue with a noise that I could not hear. 

Not too terrible. Sadly, Friday did not go as smoothly. 

(I'm writing this Sunday afternoon. I already got an email response from Ms. T. She is not pleased. The kiddos aren't going to be having a nice time upon her return to class.) 

The Conversation

Thursday. Eighth grade math, special day class. Eighth period. 

To start every class, Mr. R has them do "Good Things". This is special ed, so the classes are small, so each student gets a turn. 

When it was Alonzo's turn, all I heard was something about going on a cruise. Well, that's cool. Only, as Alonzo continued speaking, the explanation went into Hantavirus and something about bombing the ship... 

Eighth graders... 

We moved on from Alonzo and finished Good Things, but when it was time for them to start working on their math, Alonzo circled back to Hantavirus. 

He had all the questions. I have not been following the news. I heard part of a report in passing about a cruise ship and Hantavirus, and that's really all I know. I suppose I could have looked this up, but they had math to work on, and I wasn't in the mood to humor Alonzo with this random topic. 

Alonzo? He found other topics to discuss with his classmates. Because I was of a mind to, I listed as many of the topics as I could for their teacher as they happened. As the topic changed, I added to the list. The list wasn't exhaustive, though, as some things were said in passing that I felt didn't merit inclusion on the list, and some things I just didn't get. 

So, what do eighth grade boys discuss when they should be doing math? 

• Hantavirus: Alonzo really couldn't let this go.
• History class assignment roles: apparently their history teacher had assigned them roles for some Civil War project. One boy was a spy. One boy was a slave. And the third boy's role was kind of unclear. There was a long conversation about how they liked/did not like their roles and how things got assigned.
• McDonald's: this was a weird ramble about food that turned into some VR chat that was McDonald's based. I was again unclear on what exactly they were talking about. 
• Tigger: yes, the tiger in Winnie the Pooh. This was more a rhyming thing where they did go there (starts with N...), but they were also wondering if they got the correct name for the tiger in Winnie the Pooh. 
• TikTok Challenges: they went from Tide Pods to a bunch I'd never heard of. 
• Mall food: food is always a popular topic. It ended up being a thing about various things they could get, and then Alonzo said he could also get food when he went to the mall for something else. Somehow this segued into how Alonzo needed to go to the bookstore to pick up a new book coming out (the kiddos were amazingly well-read). 
• Fake dice: they acted like they were playing craps. Without dice. For about a minute. 
• "Why are you rubbing your belly?" He was not rubbing his belly. 
• Movies: Hoppers and Project Hail Mary. They liked both. 
• Someone started whistling.
• "Jesse called some girl 'slave'", which then turned into Alonzo saying that he could say all sorts of career-ruining things about Jesse. 
• Alonzo said that some teacher said that because he did something with his thumbs, that he was double jointed.
• Alonzo pulled out some money and a receipt he had. The receipt got passed around. The money was counted. (After they left, I found a nickel on the floor.) 
• Somehow the money led to them talking about various gum flavors. Mostly listing and stating whether they liked them.
• Video games: a brief mention of some games they liked.
• They circled back to Tigger and words that rhyme with it.
• Kool-Aid pickles: and then pickles in general. 
• Six... seven... Yes, sadly, that's still a thing, and it just pops up at random times.
• And then some sidetrack into Zuckerberg. Why? I have no idea.

So, you won't be surprised that I rated the class as "some made better use of their time than others" and that I doubted they had finished their assignments. Because, seriously? 

Taking Down the Notes

Wednesday. Eighth grade English, co-taught. Seventh period.

I was in for Mr. S, the special ed teacher. Ms. R, the general ed teacher, was present, so the class proceeded as normal. And on this day, they were reading the play, The Diary of Anne Frank. 

(I have covered this class before, this year even.) 

Ms. R got them started. They were in the middle of Act 1, Scene 2. 

My job was to make sure the kiddos were following along. Which they were. So, I roamed around the back of the room, looking for issues. 

I knew Oscar was going to be an issue. 

Students had been assigned parts, so the reading went fairly smoothly. Mostly, the kiddos were following along and read when it was their turn. Occasionally a student would lose their place, but that's normal. 

Then, Ms. R would pause them to discuss what had just happened. There were nuances that the kiddos weren't picking up on as they don't tend to closely pay attention. So, Ms. R pointed out some of the conflict going on between Anne and her mother. She explained how Anne was more outgoing while her sister, Margot, was more reserved. And such.

While Ms. R was discussing, she reminded the kiddos that they were to be taking notes. 

They had sheets in front of them. There was a column entitled Plot. And a second column with Characterization, Conflict, and Setting. 

As Ms. R discussed how Anne was reacting to something, she pointed out that this was something that would work for Characterization. When she mentioned Anne getting upset at her mother, she pointed out that this was Conflict. And so on. 

Oscar? Yeah, not writing anything. 

I went over to point out that while Ms. R was talking, he should be taking notes. Problem: he had no pencil. 

I told him to ask Ms. R for one (as I don't normally carry supplies). I walked away. He got Ms. R's attention. They discussed something, but I could tell it was not about acquiring a pencil. Ms. R went back to instructing the class. 

At the next discussion point, I found Oscar had a pencil. But now his neighbor did not. She informed me that Oscar had taken her pencil. Oscar said he got the pencil from Ms. R. I watched them. Ms. R had not given Oscar a pencil. So, I made Oscar give the pencil back to his neighbor.

Oh, while Oscar had the pencil, did he write down any notes? Of course not. 

At the next break, Oscar did, in fact, ask Ms. R for a pencil, and she gave him one. So, I wandered over. Was Oscar writing notes? Of course not. 

Was the rest of the class taking down notes? Yes, mostly. There was one boy who wasn't. He claimed he was reading the play so he couldn't take down notes. And yet, when Ms. R would break to discuss, was he writing then? But he was in the minority. 

I stopped going over to check on Oscar. He wasn't trying. If he was just having trouble figuring out what to write, I could have helped him with that. But he was just playing.

Class over, and they left. I said something to Ms. R. Her response: just like every day. Yup. Oscar did this every day. 

Ms. R was a bit perplexed, though. She said that something happened in January. In January and February, Oscar was actually doing well. Attentive. Turning in work. She made him her student of the month for January. And then, sometime in March, he went back to this. 

Deep sigh. 

That Oscar did improve is good news. I wonder what made him revert. I wonder if he'll improve again. He's an eighth grader. He's bound to mature. Eventually. 

What would you guess Oscar's problem is? Do you prefer to write in pen or pencil?

Today's A to Z Challenge post brought to you by the letter...

Behaved Well, Actually

While I was happy to work, I kind of was dreading the day. 

Friday. Eighth grade science. 

Science is my jam, but eighth graders... My tag for days with the eighth graders (8RE) is code for "eighth graders are evil". Because they can be. 

And then... 

They went and surprised me. 

The day's assignment was an animal adaptations project. They picked an animal. Then they were to find three adaptations that help the critter survive... 

Student: Can I pick a unicorn?

Me: No mythical creatures, please.

They were to draw a picture. Write about three of the critter's adaptations. Illustrate the critter's closest relative. And they had the whole period to do this. 

And you know what? They actually did the work. 

(Well, mostly. I had a couple kiddos who played more than they worked. But that happens everyday. It would have been weird if I didn't have a couple of those kiddos.) 

There was a good selection of animals picked. They went from axolotls to sharks to sloths to horses. Orson had a meltdown until I calmed him by mentioning different animals he could pick. And most of them finished or nearly finished the project in class. 

Now, can all my days with the eighth graders be like that? Please? 

If you could do a project on a mythical creature, which one would you pick? I think I'd go with a dragon. 

Today's A to Z Challenge post brought to you by the letter...

Observed

Thursday. Eighth grade math, special ed. Third period.

It was a complete-the-online-assignment day, and half the class said they were already done. (On a newly-assigned assignment? Not likely.) I noted who said they were done and left that information for the teacher. 

The phone rang. It was the health office letting me know they were sending over someone to observe the kiddo in the class who already had a one-to-one aide, but they didn't want the student to know. Something about a seizure disorder. 

I don't question when staff shows up in class. We have various observers for various things all the time. One day the new principal showed up while I was doing something with a class. I didn't know who he was or why he was there, but he was with another staff member I did know, so I kept doing what I was doing. Another time, the new district superintendent showed up in class. Again, she was with a staff member I did know. And again, I kept doing what I was doing until we had a moment to talk. 

So, when the staff member, who I did recognize from seeing around campus, showed up, I just kept doing what I was doing. (Read: watching the kiddos play games on their computers rather than do the assignment.) 

But, now there were two other adults watching one kiddo. And they questioned what he was supposed to be doing. So, he dutifully found the actual assignment. And then got stuck. 

Well, that part was my job. 

They were turning word problems into equations. It wasn't too hard, but the kiddos were having trouble deciphering whether they needed to add, subtract, multiply, or divide. 

The kiddo did not have any seizures while in class. (They don't usually.) But at least he got some math done. 

Unsettled

Thursday. Eighth grade English, co-taught. 

I was expecting a two sub day, but nope, Ms. C was there, like the last time I covered this class, just a couple weeks ago. 

They were doing the district writing assessment. Every quarter every student is required to write an essay. The prompts are standardized by grade level. They're given some source material (usually articles, but sometimes videos), and then they have some sort of question to answer. 

For this essay, the eighth graders were writing an argumentative essay on the media. (They could choose pro or con.) 

This was day two of the essay, and Orson had taken over the couch in the back of the room, stretched out. He had a computer with a game on it. Okay, then, Orson had finished the essay. 

The rest of the class, however... 

Ms. C gave them instructions. They basically already knew what to do. Ms. C had already explained the structure, and they'd been over things like citing evidence and creating a hook. Then Ms. C took a group of the students to work in another room, leaving me alone with the remaining group. All they had to do was to start writing...

Yeah, no.

While I hovered, helping those that had questions (mostly things to get started), the rest of the class started talking. And got louder... 

Then a boy arrived, late. He joined two others at the front of the room, and those three got into play mode. 

As I tried to figure out who the late boy was and settle the class, Cedric suggested that I adjust their seats. (Cedric was the boy from this day, unnamed the the post, but he was the one who played that entire period, at least until he left and had to be shooed back by security.) 

Just when I thought I was going to lose the class, Ms. C returned. And the whole class settled. Sigh.

(She apologized for being gone so long. There was a group of eighth graders roaming the school, including the boy who arrived late, and she was helping the principal corral them.) 

The three boys at the front? Ms. C stationed herself in front of them, and they still needed constant redirecting. 

And before you ask, one of the boys was not supposed to be sitting there, but Ms. C let him when the late boy wasn't there. Then when the late boy appeared she just left it like that rather than disrupt things during assessment essay time to move him. 

Ms. C told me that was her worst class. Me: "Really? I couldn't tell..." 

Repeats

Wednesday. I was expecting to cover eighth grade math only to discover once I got there that the assignment had been cancelled. Sigh. But, because it wasn't my error, they put me to work covering classes where the teacher wasn't out all day. 

Which meant my first period of the day I got stuck covering PE. Sigh. 

Lots of familiar faces. "My class" combined with another PE teacher's class, so I just had to take down how many laps they ran. Chilly day, but otherwise not too terrible. 

Then, for seventh period, I ended up covering a success class. Of the class of fifteen, three had been in the PE class that morning. (This is a frequent occurrence when I'm covering more than one teacher, so I was not surprised.) 

Mostly my issue in success was with one student who was doing anything but the assignment. I kept circling back around to him, pointing out that he hadn't done anything on his paper. He took twenty minutes in search of a pencil. 

When he asked to use the restroom, against my better judgement I let him go. He took along his drone. (Why he had a drone with him, I don't know. It sat on his desk all period, so at least that wasn't a distraction.) And the rest of the class informed me that he wasn't going to return to class. 

He did return. After twenty minutes. And after I called security to shoo him back. (He claimed he had gone to the office for reasons, but he didn't tell me that before he left.) 

The next day I was in a co-teaching situation with Mr. H. As we chatted, I mentioned my roving the prior day. We got to talking about how terrible the success classes were. And as I told him about what they'd done, I realized he'd know them, too. I told him that Simon was in the class as was Orson. 

If you recall, Mr. H was the one who took over that seventh grade science class when I hit my full thirty days, so he had all those students, too. 

Working Hard (or Not)

"Could you cover a sixth period..."

Wednesday. Sixth period. Eighth grade English, co-taught. Which meant that the general ed teacher was there. All I had to do was follow her lead. (I've covered Ms. C and I've worked with Ms. C many, many times.) 

Ms. C started with an apology to me and a warning. The room was infested with fruit flies. Someone had left bananas under all the desks before they left for winter break...

Eighth graders... 

They were taking a standardized test (one I've given many, many times), and one of their teachers was there, so I just sat back. The room was filled with familiar faces. Several of them had been in that seventh grade science class I started the year in last school year. (Like Simon.)

At one point Orson called me over. As I search through my previous posts, I see I did not mention Orson before, so let me explain. 

Orson is weird. Probably autistic. I recognize his concerns. Anyway, he speaks very deliberately, and he likes to make sure things are situated as they "should be". He's not a bad kid, but he doesn't fit in well with his classmates. Which sucks, really. 

We're about a half hour or so into the test. The two other boys at Orson's table are clearly not applying themselves. But they weren't talking, so I leaned in to Orson so he could ask his question. 

"Some students are only on question number four," Orson told me. 

I looked down at Orson's test. He was on question 37. The boy next to him was on question four. 

At that point, they totally should have been on at least question twenty. Orson was making decent progress. 

Me: "That's not anything you need to worry about." (I said it kindly. It wasn't his problem and it wasn't anything he needed to do anything about. I was aware the kiddos weren't applying themselves, and when they're still working while everyone else is finished, they'll realize how they wasted their own time.) 

Shortly thereafter Orson informed me he had finished. I told him congratulations. He moved to a different seat and started playing a video game. (There wasn't another assignment after they finished, and the computerized test just closed when he finished, so there was nothing I needed to do.) 

Orson's neighbor? Still working on the test. 

Orson had quite a bit of time to play his game before Ms. C called time. Several students had not finished, so they would be testing the next class period. Including Orson's neighbor. 

And I am not at all concerned. The ones that weren't applying themselves have to keep working until they finish. Those that were got free time. The punishment fits the crime.

Phantom Cramp

Thursday. Eighth grade English. 

I had covered this about a month ago (and I have covered Ms. R's class many, many times), so I knew what I was in for. I also knew that her co-teacher was going to be out. The night before I made a silly wish. "Wouldn't it be great if Ms. S was subbing for the co-teacher?" 

Guess who ended up subbing for the co-teacher? 

It made for a way easier day. 

Third period. The class had just finished their warm up, and I explained their assignment. They had chosen a story or article the previous week (there were a limited number of choices, but they did get to pick amongst them), and Ms. S and I had passed out the stories to the students. They were to annotate the story they picked, and then they'd have questions to answer about them. 

While they were getting started on the assignment, Russell "fell" out of his chair. He was lying on the ground, not moving, just lying there. 

Ms. S and I conferred. She remarked that Russell should probably be kicked out of class. I concurred. Having known Russell from the art class, I knew that his behavior wasn't going to improve. This was the perfect excuse to send him out. 

Ms. S called another classroom to find him a spot. Russell complained. "But I have a cramp!"

Uh huh. Sure you do. 

Ms. S escorted Russell away. And when she returned, neither of us had to deal with his shenanigans for the rest of the period. Bliss.

Did this scare the rest of the class? Of course not. But at least they mostly read quietly. 

I do not kick students out often enough. There's a part of me that wants to give them one more chance. Maybe they'll actually "be good", which is what they always promise when I go to assign a consequence. The thing is, they never do. They just get worse. 

No Return

Wednesday. Eighth grade English, seventh period. 

When I left the art class, I didn't say "goodbye" to them. I said, "see you around". I explained that while I might be leaving the art class, I was still a district sub, and I would most definitely see them in other classes. I wasn't surprised to see many familiar faces in Ms. R's classes, but some of them were surprised to see me. 

The day had gone fairly well as Ms. R is one of the strict ones and her lesson plan specifically stated that they were to work independently and quietly. (They were reading chapter ten of Lord of the Flies, and then they had questions to go along with it.) 

But this class contained Oscar and Calvin. 

I have mentioned Oscar on this blog before. Calvin was another student who couldn't sit still. He had been another of the students whose name I knew from repeated use. 

The assignment was finishable, but I doubt either boy finished it. They were out of their seats way too frequently. 

I was once again over by the boys, urging them to get to work. 

Calvin: "When will you return to the art class?"

I explained that I wasn't going to. I had been the interim teacher until they hired Ms. D, but now that Ms. D was there, she'd be there going forward. She's an actual art teacher where I was just filling in. 

Did Calvin even hear me? I kind of doubt it. He was on to another topic almost immediately. 

They did not like me much when I was their teacher. But now? Now they miss me. Apparently (Although, not very much as since I've left I've covered two classes that some of them have and I've been on campus two or three other times in the two weeks since I left the art class.) 

The Snitch

Wednesday. Eighth grade science. In a classroom directly across from that art class I just left. 

Several of the students had been in the art class. And many students in the art class had to say hello when they passed by me. It's funny how they hate me when I'm there, but they miss me when I'm gone. Sigh. 

The kiddos had plenty of work, but of course several of them didn't make good use of their time. Typical middle school stuff. 

Jorge was seated directly in front of me, and all period he was doing as little as possible. The usual stuff. But when he picked up his Chromebook by the screen...

I remember as a kid being instructed to hold library books a certain way as to not damage them. These kiddos handle Chromebooks as if they're cheap and indestructible. I gasped, and then I warned Jorge to be careful with the computer. If the computer breaks due to his handling of it... 

"You would snitch on me?" 

I attempted to explain that as the adult in the room it was my responsibility to look after the materials in the classroom, and making sure he had a consequence for mishandling the materials was part of my job. But he wasn't listening. 

Jorge howled about me being a snitch. Sigh. 

Eighth graders... 

He did not, in fact, damage the Chromebook. So, I did not have to leave his name for damaging classroom materials. 

The Mystery Assignment

Now that I'm entirely free of that vacant art class (as it's no longer vacant), I went back to working at the whims of the subbing app. On Monday, I caught a job at a school I hadn't been to since the previous school year. 

I've been subbing a long time. When a name appears in the subbing app, I generally have a pretty good idea of who it is and what they teach. But for Monday, I had not ever heard of Ms. V before. It gave her subject as English, and I wracked my brains for which English teacher might have retired after last school year. I came up with nothing. 

And, it turns out I was right, as Ms. V didn't teach English. She taught success...

(I do not know why success isn't a class they can list in the subbing app. But I had run into this issue before.) 

Success is a class basically about becoming a better student. On this day their lesson was on Cornell notes, as in teaching them a better way to take notes in class.

(In the class they talk about grades. They give them time to work on homework, with assistance. They teach them how to use a planner and encourage them to organize their backpacks.) 

In the past, success has been code for "terrible class". The students that they encourage to take it are the students who need it, and the students who need it are the kinds of students who act up in class. 

But this year, due to a change in how the students are scheduled, most of the middle school is taking it. 

It turned out that I knew many of the students. About a third of them had been in the seventh grade science class I began the year with last school year. Which was good and bad. 

Bad, because the students I had issues with before I still had issues with. Good, because I already knew who many of the kiddos were. 

And now that I've been to this school, I now have the current teacher list. Which may or may not help me in determining future assignments. 

It's not like I would have turned down the assignment knowing what I know now. They weren't horrible. 

They were eighth graders. And it was kind of cool to see how many of them had grown since I had seen them last. 

Finishing the Leis

Tuesday. Eighth grade U.S. history. 

But, um, well, the eighth graders were done. It was technically finals day, but not for eighth graders. They had taken their finals the previous week so that they knew who was eligible for promotion. Grades had been turned in. 

The eighth graders who were eligible for promotion and who wanted to go went to see a movie. (Lilo & Stitch). Mr. F, their teacher, was one of the chaperones. Hence the need for a sub. Because not all the eighth graders go. 

And, well, the other eighth graders didn't really need to be there. But we can't just up and say, "Don't come to school," so it gets hinted, but every year many eighth graders still show up. 

My actual lesson plans (given to me directly by Mr. F before he headed out): Don't let them burn the building down. 

No worries then. 

Most of them found things to do on their phones. But, there were a couple girls (who were not in the class) who had to finish making candy leis. They were doing a fundraiser for the middle school leadership class, and so they had to put together 75 of those things. They had 60-odd done already. 

Found on the internet. If you search "candy lei diy", you can see many different versions as well as instructions on how to make them.

At the end of first period, the girls weren't quite done. I was quite willing to let them continue working during third period even though I had a prep period. It wasn't like I had anything to do. But then, of course, I got asked to cover a different class. Uh... 

I couldn't leave the girls in the classroom on their own. I offered to let them come with me to the other class I had to cover, but it was a lot of stuff to haul across campus. One of them got the idea to ask a counselor to supervise them. That would work. 

Before I could find out if they found someone, I had to head out. I returned to the room (for seventh period) to find all the lei making stuff neatly stacked. Hopefully it was all finished. 

As I was leaving for the day, Mr. F caught up with me. (They all enjoyed the movie.) When I explained about the leis, he said that explained the weird text he had gotten from a counselor. Because, apparently, the girls found a counselor to supervise them. And they finished the 75 leis. Well, that's a relief. 

The leis could be purchased to give to eighth graders to wear during their promotion ceremony. And then after they could eat the candy. 

The joys of the last days of school. So much stuff going on. 

Outside

Friday. Integrated math I, eighth grade (read: the advanced group). 

The day's assignment had them taking a survey online, then completing a "banner" with advice for next year's eighth graders. And then free time...

It's the end of the school year. The eighth graders' grades were due the previous day. (The grades have to be turned in early so the school knows who gets to participate in promotion. Those who failed classes do not.) And they all knew this. They were ready for their free time. 

As soon as they completed what they needed to complete... 

"Can we go outside and play volleyball?" 

Two girls asked me this. Then two boys asked as well. 

Any other time of the year, the answer would have been absolutely not. But now? 

The four students turned into ten. Somehow. Security drove up and through the group a couple times and didn't bother to stop them. (Of course, I was hovering near the door, watching.) 

The next period, it got hotter. But another teacher had his class set up an actual volleyball net. Well, okay then. Again, half the class was outside. 

The last class of the day was the not advanced group. And by that time it was about 90℉ (that's about 32℃). The first boy that asked was in a long sleeve black hoodie. I pointed out he'd be hot. That didn't bother him. 

Of course, by the end of the period, he was panting and complaining of being hot. It was too hot for him to walk home... 

I mean, I warned him. (The co-teacher texted his mom, and apparently this was an ongoing thing.)

It's a weird time of year. The rules get very relaxed. Many of them got good grades and they're just about high schoolers. (I mentioned they were days away from being high schoolers, and I could tell they're a bit nervous about this.) It's almost summer vacation. 

It was good to get outside. 

Unpopular

Tuesday, fifth period. 

The period goes by a couple names. Conference. Prep. It's the period I have off from students. 

So, I was sitting in "my" classroom, doing what the period was intended for. I was doing some lesson planning. Some grading. And eating my lunch. 

The phone rang...

Ms. L, who I sort of co-teach with second period, called. 

In a prior second period, Ms. L used her document camera so that her students could copy down some notes. Only that day the thing wouldn't work. As I am familiar with the technology, I managed to get it going. 

And this is what Ms. L called me about. She couldn't get her document camera to work, and could I help her out? Well, sure, I was without students. 

I popped on over there, and in a couple seconds I got the thing working...

This success was greeted by a loud round of boos from the eighth graders. 

I'm not sure what they thought would happen if the document camera didn't work. It's not like they were going to get the period off. They might have had to do something harder than copy notes. Really, they should have thanked me. 

Ms. L did thank me, though. Profusely. 

And I was then off and back to my lesson planning and grading. 

(It was a beautiful sunny and warm day. It was nice to get out and walk in the sun for a bit.)