Final Grades

A couple weeks ago, Mr. B left a message for his students in the Google Classroom. The last day to turn in late work was the Friday before finals week. And so, every day I reminded them of this deadline.

Then Ms. P (the instructional aide) called out sick, which meant I was doing the grading. I told the students this was good for them as I tend to grade easy, and I wasn't sure how many points to deduct for late work (so I wasn't going to deduct any).  

(I didn't expect them to take advantage of this. So, when I wasn't getting loads of late work being turned in, I wasn't surprised.)

It was the last week before finals. And I reminded them that any late work they turned in was only going to benefit them. They turned in their last assignment for the semester, and still many had empty spots where points for assignments should be. I pointed out that any late work was only going to boost their grades.

Still, nothing.

And then I really looked at their grades. A few of them had dropped from a C to an F. 

The problem: I hadn't given the C students progress reports. 

There is a rule. A teacher cannot fail a student at the semester if they did not send out a progress report with the note "in danger of failing". 

I did the progress reports. I sent progress reports out for every D and F student. The students who had Cs, however, I figured would still have Cs at the semester.

But, sub. I don't know why, but students slack off with long term subs. There is a grade dip. I just didn't think the grades would dip that much.

There were five students who now had Fs who had not gotten progress reports. Sigh.

Two of them were just missing the last assignment due to being absent. They turned in the assignment, and their grades popped back up. 

Two of them were up to date on assignments, but those assignments had not been completed thoroughly. I gently suggested to one that if she completed some questions that she hadn't done, she could pull up her grade. 

She did a sloppy job, earned eight points, but that was enough to take her to just above 60%. A D. Whew.

Another boy turned in a missing packet, and that was enough to bounce him into D territory. Whew. 

There's still one, though. I will have to tell Mr. B I messed up and didn't give him a progress report. I imagine he'll end up getting a D at the semester as well.

I did what I could. But I can't do the work for them. And next time (and there will be a next time), I may just have to give progress reports to students with Cs. Because, seriously. They do let things slide when there's a sub. 

Not Very Surprised

It was bound to happen eventually...

This year, the school district has contracted with some agency or other to bring around drug sniffing dogs. I saw the notification of this at the beginning of the school year. I've seen them on the various campuses. They were even going to search one of my classrooms, but they came around on a prep period (no students), so they skipped me. 

Last Thursday was the day.

It was towards the end of first period. US history. Juniors. The class was, as usual, pretty mellow. The door opened, and it was an administrator with a couple other people, one of whom had a big dog on a leash. 

Oh, okay then. 

We all stepped outside. (The class contains seven students. All were present.) We waited. (It was a sunny day, so it was nice to stand in the sun.) Then the door opened, and Alvin was pulled inside.

Uh oh...

It was a few more minutes. Joey talked about how he no longer did "that sort of thing". He also informed me that he had a couple friends (who still did "that sort of thing") who knew when the dog was coming and would warn people. 

Then they let us come back inside. Alvin's backpack was packed up, and Alvin was escorted from the room.

And... I wasn't shocked. 

Currently, Alvin has a 21% in the class. He'd been promising that he was making up the work he was missing. He would bring it "next time". But each following class, no work. He was also consistently late by at least a half hour a day. 

And... Yeah. He seemed like the type. 

(If you had asked me about drug use before this incident, I wouldn't have singled him out. I wouldn't have pinpointed him as someone who was high. Of course, I wouldn't have singled anyone out as I wasn't particularly looking for that issue. But when you call my attention to it, yeah, it didn't surprise me.) 

The teacher next door had noticed us standing outside. When I informed him of who was whisked away (we share students, so he knows Alvin), he wondered if Gerardo would know more, as the two are buddies. (I have Gerardo in eighth period.) Later, Mr. B reported back that Gerardo said that Alvin had alcohol on him. Or, at least that's what he thought.

Will I find out for sure? Maybe. If I learn anything interesting, I'll report back.

Not So Sneaky

Tuesday. US history. It was the end of eighth period, and as per normal, the kiddos had lined up at the door, waiting. (I do try to discourage this behavior, but they ignore me.)

At the front of the line were Percy and Gerardo. I've been having issues with the both of them. They both have F's in the class, and instead of doing any work, they get sucked into their phones or their computers. (Percy and I had a long debate about this. He doesn't care that he has an F and is looking forward to summer school.)

We had a few minutes left of class. Percy and Gerardo stepped onto the outside ramp. And once I could no longer see them, I went to check. 

Percy was still standing there. I shooed him back inside.

But Gerardo was halfway to the front entrance, too far for me to call back.

*grumble, grumble*

I do not appreciate students leaving class early. And I wasn't having it.

On Thursday, when Gerardo got to class, I informed him we needed to have a conversation. He had his earbuds in, so I'm not sure if he really didn't hear me or if he pretended not to. But I followed up. And I explained the situation.

Gerardo did not have a reason for leaving early. I rather think that he didn't think. He didn't know why he left early (at least that's what he told me), but I believe that it was a matter of no impulse control. He saw the opportunity and took it.

Well, Gerardo needed a consequence for this. (Everyone saw that he left early, so I didn't want to tempt them into thinking that they could get away with it, too.) So, I told him that he owed me three minutes after school. (When I noted the time when he left, it was about three minutes early.) 

He didn't argue with me about it. He didn't complain. And at the end of the period, he remained in his seat while everyone else left. 

Well, okay then. 

I kept note of the time and released Gerardo after his three minutes. 

I was expecting more push back. I'm quite happy that I didn't get it, though. 

I'll have to see if they attempt such things again. I'll be keeping a closer eye on them, too.

Misfiled

Wednesday. Third period. Government.

Of all the classes, third period is the one I'm concerned about the least. While a couple of them have had their grades drop (due to missing the last assignment), there are no F's in the class. And I anticipate each one of them passing the class at the semester.

It was a weird day with Ms. P, the instructional aide, out sick. They came in a little bit more wound up than usual. (We had our weather warm up, so the bright, sunny day might have been part of it.) And Sabrina asked if she could not work that day.

Uh...

The assignments need to be completed at some point. And I don't want to encourage slacking off when semester grades are so close. 

But, Sabrina's grade was fine. Wasn't it? I went to check the gradebook, just to make sure.

Sabrina was missing an assignment. It wasn't one of the big packets that are worth major points. It was one of the "quizzes". 

Mr. B gives them the book's quizzes at the end of each section, but he counts them like an ordinary assignment. Because they aren't weighted as a test, they don't hurt their grades too badly. (Most don't do very well on them, and that's even with the quizzes being open book. This is one of the differences in a special ed class.) 

So, instead of telling Sabrina she could take the period off, I told her she should complete the missing quiz. 

All the assignments are filed in a filing cabinet, clearly marked. I went and found the folder for quiz 2.1 and gave it to her. 

A while later, she returned it. When I went to grade it, I discovered that it said 2.2 on it. I double checked the gradebook. I had a grade for quiz 2.2. 

What had I done?

Upon further examination, I found that the folder for quiz 2.1 contained the quizzes for 2.2. And the person who had been putting things away was me...

(Although, now that I'm writing this, I do recall Ms. P had filed something in the government drawer, so I might not be to blame...)

While I was pulling the quiz, I should have double checked the page. So, my mistake. 

But, it was the wrong quiz. I apologized to Sabrina, but she would have to do the correct quiz. (There were 10 questions. True/false. Multiple choice.) While she did, I graded 2.2. If she got an extra point... She did not. She missed one more than before. I did not change her score.

Sabrina finished. 8 out of 10. I added her score to the gradebook.

And that bumped up her grade from a C to a B.

Sabrina then proceeded to work on the day's assignments. So, I guess getting her to work on something got the momentum going. 

(And now I'll be extra careful when giving them makeup work.)

The Absence

The special ed social studies class I've been covering has an instructional assistant, Ms. P. She does all the grading, and she assists various students with their assignments. (Some need more help than others.) She also is the person the students are used to, so it wasn't so weird having a sub when they still Ms. P.

On Monday, Ms. P wiped down all the surfaces in the classroom. She sprayed Lysol on everything. Occasionally she'd do that, but she hadn't in about a week. 

Tuesday morning, I awoke to a text from Ms. P. She had the flu. 

(And suddenly the cleaning of the classroom made sense.)

While I would miss her presence, I was now familiar with the rhythms of the classes, so I knew I could run everything with her gone. 

On Wednesday, they sent me a sub.

There are substitute aides. When I was at the ATC, they were vital whenever one of the aides was out. For this class...? Ms. P asked if I wanted her to get a sub, and I said no. Because I knew.

But, this aide is a one-to-one, and his student was absent that day. (I encountered this frequently at the ATC. Those one-to-one aides would fill in someplace when their student was out.) 

As I had his student for two periods, Mr. C was familiar with the routines of the class. I told him to assist students who needed assistance. He took Ms. P's desk.

What I expected to happen happened. Not one student asked for help.

There are certain students who always work with Ms. P. I specifically offered them assistance. I specifically pointed out that there was an aide who could sit and work with them all period. They declined the help.

(It might be the whole stranger thing. It might be that Ms. P insists that they work with her. But I can understand why these students might not wish for help while Ms. P is out.)

At least Mr. C had brought a book. (His student tends to not need him for long stretches of time, so Mr. C is used to dead time.)

When they didn't send me a sub on Thursday or Friday, I wasn't terribly concerned. While Ms. P is necessary to the running of the classroom, her absence didn't cause a disruption. (Well, I mean, me grading their work isn't ideal, but I can manage if I have to.)

The Quiet

Last week was kind of a quiet week at school. As I predicted, the fairly well-behaved classes don't give me very many interesting stories to blog about. My major issues have to do with students not turning in work (and earning F's). 

One day Jasper came to my desk to ask for a restroom pass. Although, "ask" is too strong a word. He pointed outside and kind of motioned.

And that's when I realized, had I actually heard Jasper talk? 

Yeah, I had. But quietly. He whispers. Barely talks.

But suddenly, he's not talking at all.

The students have book work. They read the chapters. They write outlines. They answer key idea questions. (It's the way Mr. B has the class set up.) Occasionally I'll read with them. 

The room tends to remain pretty quiet.

And Jasper has gotten quieter. It's not like he was loud before. But now...

I was tempted to make him ask me in words what he wanted. I think I did. But then I realized, if he doesn't want to talk, why should he? 

We're getting into the end of the year. It's getting darker earlier. I think we're all tired.

Maybe it's time to let some of us go quiet. Just for a bit.

Routines

It was the Tuesday after Thanksgiving break, and I was rolling into school per normal. (See yesterday's post.) I had taken a few steps onto campus when Onyx again fell into step alongside me.

After Monday's encounter, I was less concerned about Onyx's motives. She again followed me into the classroom, but this time, she put a can of soda in the teacher's fridge (as opposed to removing one). Then she left.

She removed the can after her class period. I did not hear of any mishaps, so I assume she got to drink the whole thing.

So, Wednesday morning, I looked for Onyx. I expected her to appear. She did not.

But, I did see Mr. B, my teacher neighbor. (He's in the classroom next door. He teaches special ed English.) He had gotten to school just before me, and was ahead of me on the trek to the classrooms. 

Onyx had fallen into step alongside him.

Well, okay then.

On Thursday, I saw Mr. B but not Onyx. On Friday, I again spied Onyx in step alongside Mr. B. 

I guess I just need to get to school a bit later. Or something.

Denied

It was the Monday after Thanksgiving break, and I had just arrived at school. One of the nice things about being on a long-term assignment is that I was able to check out keys. So, rather than having to head to the front office, I could let myself in the gate from the parking lot and head directly to the classroom. 

It was about a half hour before the beginning of the school day. I wasn't quite ready for people yet. I had walked a few steps past the school gym when Onyx fell into step beside me.

It took me a minute to get back into teacher mode. Onyx began a story about some party she'd gone to that she didn't want to be at because she wanted to go to bed. It was "too late" at 11 PM or something. And then there was other drama having to do with another party over the break.

Onyx followed me up to the classroom door.

I didn't want Onyx in the room to stay. She wasn't in the first class of the day. (I had conference period immediately, so I wasn't going to have students for a bit.) But I didn't want to be rude.

I opened the classroom door, and Onyx walked in ahead of me. She went to the teacher's fridge, and she pulled out a can of soda.

Onyx had brought the soda in before the break during her class period. She had headed out "to the restroom" and returned with the soda. I don't know where she got it. But I do remember that she hadn't retrieved it before I closed the room before the break.

Once Onyx had her soda, she left.

Ah. That's okay, then.

I did have Onyx in the next class. She told me that soon after opening her soda, she managed to spill it all over. (I believe she was outside.) 

Bummer.

Trapped

It was the last twenty or so minutes of first period on the Friday before Thanksgiving break. (I saved all my subbing stories for when school was back in session.) My class of six was working quietly. (We had spent the first half hour of class or so reading the current section in the textbook.)

An announcement was made to the whole school. "Teachers, lock your doors..."

Lovely. We were on lockdown.

I removed the blocker from the door as it was already closed. As no students were out using the restroom, it was just a matter of waiting. 

Because I am a sub, I don't get school-wide emails. I asked Ms. P (the instructional assistant who does get the emails) if something had come through. As she told me nothing had, a student informed us that she had learned (via her sister) that someone had hopped the fence onto campus. (The description was a male Hispanic not wearing a shirt.) 

We heard a helicopter overhead. From the classroom, I could see the front of the school. Deputy sheriffs arrived through the front gate. Ms. P got a photo from her daughter showing the outside of the school with police cars lining the curb. Another student got a message with the description of the incident posted somewhere. 

We waited. 

At about the point in class when the students usually clean up, a couple of them got up. 

"We're on lockdown. We're not going anywhere. Get comfortable."

They still put their stuff away, but the teacher had some games in his cabinet, so two girls got out an Uno deck. 

Then, at about two minutes before the bell would have rung, Alvin (who had clearly been not aware of anything) put on his backpack and headed for the door. I repeated my explanation that no one was going anywhere until the situation had been resolved. (Although I couched it as good news. I let them know that we were losing time in third period as they always give us the full break when something like this happens.)

Suddenly, Alvin was not happy. (He had been oblivious before. He also had had a restroom pass shortly before the lockdown was called.) He wanted to leave. Although, his complaints were mild, and they only lasted a short time.

The sound of the helicopter stopped. 

There was a knock on the classroom door. Because the room has windows, I saw a couple sheriff deputies outside. Before I could get to the door, security opened it from the outside. (That security person actually used to be a cop. He told me this on the day my car battery was stolen.) 

They were checking the room for anyone who wasn't supposed to be there. As no one had come in or out, I gave the all clear.

A couple minutes later, the principal made an announcement over the PA system.

A passing motorist had seen someone hopping the fence and called authorities. The individual was a student. A female student wearing a tan shirt. 

(Oh, you should have heard the howls during the following snack break. They were not pleased.)

The end of the period was called. They got a snack break (which is the usual after first period) and then they were on to third period (we have a block schedule). 

Students hopping the fence is a problem, but I am unclear as to why a student would hop the fence to get onto campus. (They usually are leaving.) Sure, they have to go through the office, but it's not like we don't know they're late anyway.

Ah well. We had to have some drama on the Friday before the break. It isn't a proper day before the break otherwise.

Walks Like a Duck

Thursday (before Thanksgiving break). Fourth period.

Onyx: "I'm not high. But my keyboard is moving."

The computer in question was sitting stationary on the table.

This is my second full week in the class. I have Onyx in two different classes. She's been pretty mellow. But on this day... 

Not high? I doubt it.

She started off by telling another student to back off. (He didn't want to listen. He felt it was his duty to not give up and help Onyx with whatever it was that was bothering her. In this I intervened letting him know that this was not the time to push.) So, to keep the peace, I had Onyx sit closer to me.

It was a drop drill day, so when Onyx got under her desk, she accused it of stabbing her in the back. (She fell on one of the table legs.) How one can fall when one is sitting on the floor... 

She spent the rest of the period listening to her music. There was a bit of seat dancing. But I don't think she got much of the actual work done.

Not high? Perhaps. But something was definitely going on with her.

And she can't understand why she has a D in the class. (I attempted to explain where the problem was, but she didn't quite grasp my explanation.) 

Caught Unprepared

Wednesday. (This was the Wednesday before Thanksgiving break.) It was the end of first period. And the kiddos were standing at the door, waiting for the bell.

Instead of itching to get out, they were looking outside in horror. It. Was. Raining.

Me: "You all remembered your umbrellas, right?"

They looked at me blankly.

Me: "This has been all over the news. They've been forecasting rain for today for a week. Do you ever check the weather on your phones?"

They were all in long sleeves. Some had sweatshirts on. Some had hoodies. They weren't going to freeze. But they were going to get wet. 

Ah well. Maybe they'll learn.

We even got thunder and lightning.  The next period a lightning bolt struck so close that it knocked out the school WiFi for a bit.

The Vanishing Student

The long-term special ed social studies class I'm covering is all juniors and seniors. And I haven't had any major behavior issues so far. The classes are pretty mellow, and the students mostly do their work. Kind of.

But there is some drama.

Elena is a student I met in success seminar last year. She's bright. But she's got some issues. 

On Wednesday, Elena was on time for third period. She was all ready to work. Problem was, she was enrolled in fifth period, not third. 

She didn't want to leave, but I figured her science teacher would be missing her. I sent her on her way. (I even called her science teacher to tell her that Elena had come to the wrong class.) 

She did return fifth period. But she wasn't so much in a working mood. She finished quickly, or she didn't do the work, I'm not sure which.

And then, towards the end of the period, she went to "get some air" just outside the classroom. 

Then I saw her through the window, walking away from class.

Sigh. 

***

I don't usually do this, but right now it's Tuesday the 14th, and I'm editing this post to add information. (I wrote the above on Sunday.) Because I just got a call from the attendance office. 

The attendance clerk called to verify Elena's attendance on that Wednesday. See, I was the only teacher to mark her present (although that mark was a tardy), and Elena's grandmother was calling the school to verify.

Luckily (or unluckily) for Elena, her presence that day was now memorable, so I could relate to the attendance clerk the above story. (Although, now I see that Elena never did make it to her third period class.) 

This leaves me with questions. Elena came to school, but only attended one period? I know she was on campus third period (as she had been in the room), but since she didn't go to her third period class, where did she spend the rest of third period? 

I'm not sure exactly what's going on with Elena. I get a sense that she's going through some things. Some major things. 

I'm used to not getting the whole story. I hope Elena gets the help she needs.

Grades Due, Naturally

The start of this new long-term assignment has gone pretty smoothly. The classes are pretty mellow. There's an instructional aide to clue me in on what I need to do. The lesson plans are complete.

My first day, the secretary in charge of subs was out sick, but I knew who checks out keys so I got that done. I even managed to talk to one of the assistant principals about getting access to the gradebooks. (It was the wrong assistant principal--the other one had that access. But Dr. T told Mr. C, and it got done.) 

I started on a Friday. On Monday, I knew there was one thing I needed to find out.

When were progress reports due? 

Because, I knew.

It had been about a month since the end of the quarter. And considering how for my last three long-terms grades had been due almost immediately after me beginning, I knew it had to be very, very soon.

(I even mentioned this here on the blog: the vacant English class, the English class last spring, and success seminar.) 

I called the secretary in charge of subs, but she was again out sick. Who could I ask? I figured I might as well ask one of the assistant principals.

He got back to me right away. I asked on a Monday. Grades were due Wednesday. Naturally.

Before Mr. B went out, he left current grades. So, it wasn't a big deal.

At least this time I was on top of things.

And I know the next grades due are the semester grades, which won't be due until after Mr. B returns. So, I should be safe. *knocks on wood*

The New Gig

A couple weeks ago, I was offered a long-term gig in a special ed social studies class. That job started last Friday.

I'm vaguely familiar with the class. I covered it in December three years ago. Yes, 2020. At that time I was subbing from home.

On Friday I started off class by introducing myself. The classes knew that Mr. B would be out as he was having surgery. (He's due back the last week before winter break.) They were a bit surprised that he was already gone. (I'm sure he told them when he'd be out. This is kind of standard when it comes to student reactions.) 

It was sixth period. I did my intro, mentioning that Mr. B was out until December. One of the students remembered that he was having surgery.

"So, when he comes back, he'll be able to walk?"

Mr. B is in a wheelchair. I don't know what caused his paralysis. (I've never asked.) And I don't know what he's having surgery for. But I highly doubt that some surgery (that he's only going to need a few weeks to recover from) is going to miraculously make him no longer wheelchair-bound.

And I don't think Mr. B even part way hinted that this would be the case.

I had the student repeat the question for Ms. P, the class' instructional aide. I let her answer. I didn't want to ruin my rapport on my first day.

So far, this class seems pretty mellow. Which is good news for me, not so good news for the blog. We'll see. Hopefully I can find something interesting to blog about for the duration.

Not Entirely Wrong

For the class I was covering before the break, economics was sixth period. Which meant that it was the last final I gave. 

Mr. B emailed me their final. I uploaded it to their Google Classroom. Mr. B also sent me the answer key, so I was able to grade it. 

"Identify the income group that will receive the most benefit under a flat tax." 

I remembered actually reading this in their textbook with them. (The final was only over the last two sections they had covered; it wasn't a comprehensive final.) And the test was open book/open note, so they didn't actually have to remember the answer. 

Mathias had a rough time with the question. Now, I'm not supposed to "help" with tests, but sometimes they just need a hint. 

The correct answer was: individuals with high incomes. 

Mathias, however, was thinking that the answer needed to be more complicated than it was. He, in fact, said he tended to overthink things.

So, I told Mathias (and, by extension, everyone else in the class, as virtual learning doesn't really have a whisper-to-one-kiddo mode) that the answer was an income group. I gave three examples of income groups (high, medium, low). Mathias was still kind of hesitant, but I really couldn't give him more.

After class I got to do the grading. The way that Google sets up the tests for grading makes things really simple. I can grade all the students' responses to one question at a time. So, when I got to this question, I got to see what everyone answered as a group. 

Most of them got it correct. The wording was different. Some said "the wealthy" or such. Close enough. Some chose the wrong income brackets. Of course those were wrong. 

But the best answer? "The IRS." 

I mean, they weren't wrong. But sadly, I had to mark it incorrect. 

I consoled myself with adding a comment to that answer. "LOL." I appreciate comedy when I find it in the wild.

Making Up a Final

The week before winter break, I gave finals to the class I covered for the majority of December. 

Finals week is one week students try not to miss. So, I was rather surprised that Miguel didn't show up to virtual class. 

There was one student, Lazarus, who I saw maybe once in the two-and-a-half weeks I covered the class. (Mr. B told me that his attendance had been an issue, and discussions had happened with his family.) 

So, while there were a couple absences, the only one that surprised me was Miguel. 

After logging off for the day, I got an email from Miguel. He apologized for missing the final. The email was about four minutes old, so I replied quickly, hoping to get a chance to talk to him. He logged into the class meet so we could discuss. 

Miguel said that he had had a personal emergency. When I inquired further, he told me that his dogs had run away, and while he had been able to locate one (who was barking in the background), the other was still MIA. 

Now, I'm of two minds about this. I can see how a student might not be able to concentrate on a final. But, it was a final. 

I asked Miguel if he could make it up right then, and he said yes. 

But then, a couple hours later, I got an email from the assistant principal at the school saying Miguel didn't make up the final then because he had an IEP meeting. 

Which. . . I mean, seriously? I asked him if he could do the final then. He said yes. If he had just told me no. . .  

(I wasn't remaining "in class" with him for the make up as I had other things I had to do. So, if then was a bad time, I would have understood.)

So, for two days I'm watching my email, waiting on Miguel to return his final. Then, the last day of class, I found it in Google Classroom, already graded. (He emailed it to Mr. B instead of me. Sigh.)

Ah well. It got done.

(As for Lazarus, he also got an excuse for missing class for his final from the assistant principal. He never did make up his final.) 

The Final

The last week before winter break was finals. The last week of the semester. 

I started covering the special ed social studies class two weeks prior. That first day I received a copy of the finals schedule. As soon as I saw it, I uploaded it to the classes' Google Classrooms. Over the next two days, I made sure to tell each class where they could find the schedule. 

For the whole following week, I made mention of the finals schedule at least once a period. One day I even presented it to each class to make sure they looked at it. On their last day of the week, I made special mention of what day their finals were on, as some of them would be meeting on the "wrong" day. 

(The schedule is staggered. Periods 1, 3, and 5 meet on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Periods 2, 4, and 6 meet on Wednesdays and Fridays. All classes meet on Mondays. So, while it wouldn't be weird for periods 1 and 2 to go to class on Monday, it is odd for period 4 to meet on a Tuesday.) 

So, they should have it, right? 

On Sunday as I was going through my email (mostly to clear out the clutter), I ran across a student comment: "I was at a funeral. i missed other classes today  2 wonder how can i complete my final"

This was in response to the teacher's posting of what would be covered in their final. 

Um. . . I. . . 

I just. . . 

What I actually did was to reply to the student's comment. Calmly. "Your final is on Wednesday. You haven't missed it." 

Privately, well, you can see what I'm doing privately. Shaking my head. Wondering. 

They don't listen. I mean, I knew this, but still. I can't say I didn't go over it with them and explain.

Teacher's Pet

Yesterday I blogged about screaming siblings in the background while students were reading over a Google Meet. That was not the only distraction some of them had. 

It was the beginning of class, and I greeted Adrian when he joined the meet. (As I do.) He turned on his mic to reply, only to have a barking dog in the background. 

He apologized to me and tried to shush the dog. 

But I was having a similar situation. . . 

I was alone in the house, so Buttercup (the landlady's dog) joined me. And she's a barker. (She looks so innocent and quiet there. But get someone outside, like the gardeners that day, and you can't get her to stop barking.) 

While Adrian's dog was barking, so was Buttercup. 

Sigh. 

I had to kick her out for a bit, but when she calmed, I allowed her back. For a while. 

The distractions of working from home (and teaching from home). 

Today is the last day before winter break. For the next two weeks I'll be on the "summer schedule" and I'll save my subbing stories from this past week for when we return to class, just after the new year. 

If you're taking a blogging break, enjoy your end-of-year festivities. For those of you just plugging along, I'll see you around the blogosphere. 

Background Noise

For the last two and a half weeks before the end of the calendar year, I am covering a social studies class, special ed. Their assignments have been to continue reading through their textbook and outlining/answering questions. 

Their teacher sent me links to online versions of their textbooks, so we could read together in class. They read a paragraph or two. Then "we discuss", which basically means I ask questions and clarify things that weren't necessarily clear in the text. (Or, in the case of their 15 year old government book, are out of date.) 

Mathias volunteered to read. (I was calling on students, but I rarely turn down volunteers.) He turned on his mic, and. . . 

As Mathias started to read, his little brother screamed in the background. (At least, I assume brother. The age of the child made it hard to determine, and he/she is pre-words. Just screams.) Mathias tried to shush him, but sometimes babies scream. And this baby wasn't going to be calmed. Especially while Mathias couldn't focus on him while trying to talk to me. 

He apologized, while I assured him that wasn't necessary. Some things are just beyond one's control. 

Theo's younger brother was a bit older than Mathias'. But he was yelping in the background, too. It sounded like it had something to do with school. 

It's amazing what you can sort of tune out. I focused on the students. With things how they are, they can't help when their younger siblings are loud. 

But it's not all loud younger siblings. 

Imani volunteered to read. She had no screaming siblings in the background. As she read, though, when she'd mispronounce a word (this is frequent and normal), a male voice quietly corrected her. Brother, father, uncle, or other friend? No idea. 

It's nice to know that some of them do have some help at home.

These are strange times.

The Honor System

Two weeks ago Wednesday I started covering a special ed. social studies class. The teacher was going to be out for the rest of the calendar year, starting from Tuesday. But on Tuesday, I was already covering the band class. 

So, they got a different sub to cover the class that Tuesday. (I don't know why that other sub wasn't given the gig for the next couple weeks. I'm just grateful that I got the work.) 

When I went to take roll for the first class of the day, I noticed the big red note: "Attendance not submitted". This note pops up all the time because the time in the attendance software for the classes isn't the time they're actually meeting. But in this case, the note was letting me know that attendance hadn't been submitted for the previous day. 

Sigh. 

One of the main functions of a substitute teacher is to take attendance. Sure, we're supposed to teach the lesson plan and make sure the kiddos don't get up to no good (very easy to do virtually), but attendance can't be forgotten. 

I could, of course, just ignore this. I wasn't there on the Tuesday, so I didn't know who had been there. Not my problem. 

But I hate red notes in attendance. 

The virtual schedule has each class meeting on alternate days. So, on Thursday I did the only thing I could do. I asked the classes for honesty. I asked them if they had been "in class" on Tuesday. 

The students were seniors. Yes, they could lie. But I rather thought they wouldn't. And didn't. 

I haven't heard any complaints about students being marked absent that were present since then. So, I think I'm safe. (And I could go in and fix that if necessary.)