The Grade Reports

For summer school, we weren't assigning grades. We teachers got to write little paragraphs about each student that then went home on a little progress report. The only number score was the words they read in a minute, both on the first day of school and towards the last. 

(Don't ask me how long that took. You don't want to hear me whine about it.) 

We were to send the progress reports home with the students on the last day. 

As I was in a borrowed classroom, I had no supplies. My aide went and found me a stapler. I went through and folded each progress report, wrote on the outside "to the parents of", and I stapled them shut. 

Near the end of first period, I passed them out to the students. 

And, of course, the inevitable happened. 

Every single student opened their progress reports. Every. Single. One.

Sigh.

Why did I bother to staple the things? 

What did the numbers mean? One student was trying to make a 74 into a percentage. But another student's 126 then didn't fit that narrative. 

"Remember sitting with me and reading those paragraphs for a minute? The score is how many words you read in that minute." 

They had done their post assessment the previous day, so it wasn't like they didn't remember. 

It wasn't like there wasn't anything in the reports that they shouldn't see. However, I could not explain their math grades. (I didn't know what assessment they had done for that.) 

Summer school is now over. Now I really get to take a summer vacation. 

(Maybe. The alternative education center starts up next week and the continuation high school starts the week after that.) 

Surprise A

On the penultimate day of summer school, I gave the students a figure-out-your-grade assignment. I wanted them to spend some time looking at how not doing the work (or doing the work) impacted their final point total.

Well, actually, I needed them to work on something while I was calling them up and individually having them do their post assessment reading. (Yes, I gave them busy work.) 

After everyone had done their reading, I went through the assignment to see what everyone had come up with. 

There was a note from Delilah. "I don't know if my grade is an A I don't think I added right?" 

I glanced at her totals. The A looked reasonable. She had turned in most of her work. 

After calculating their grade, I had questions for them to answer. First I asked if the grade surprised them and if they were happy with it. Delilah: "I'm happy about it but I don’t think I calculated right?". 

Then I asked what they could do to improve their grade. Delilah: "Calculate correctly, I think i'm just saying this because I never had an A in english!"

She did, indeed, have an A in English. (I double checked with a calculator while writing this post. Yup, it's an A.) 

Alas, we weren't assigning grades for the summer school. They got written progress reports. Having them calculate what their grade would have been was more so they'd get an object lesson in what doing or not doing their work nets them grade-wise. 

But they did get bragging rights. Delilah could totally tell her parents that she got an A in English in the summer. Just because it wasn't recorded anywhere doesn't mean it doesn't count. (It's not like middle school grades remain on their transcripts anyway.) 

Illustrating the Lesson

I pretty much put the entire summer school class on Google Slides. It's way easier than writing things on a whiteboard. I could project examples and do work with them. It made many things easier. 

I have been learning all sorts of interesting tricks to Google Slides. One of them was how to put gifs into the slides so there's movement on each slide. As soon as I figured out that trick (or rather as soon as I looked up how to do it), I put up some gifs every day. 

Gifs like: 

The last one was the gif I used with the question, "What would you like to be famous for?" 

And it was up on the screen when Mr. V, the summer school principal, walked in. 

Is South Park middle school appropriate? Probably not. 

I mean, I wasn't showing South Park. If he read the rest of the slide, he'd have seen how it went with what we were doing.

Mr. V did question the gif. He questioned if the students knew South Park. One of them said they had heard of it. 

But then Mr. V went on to make the announcement to the class that he had come to do. And he left. 

I guess I should be more careful of what gifs I use. 

I mean, the gif itself wasn't inappropriate. I wouldn't put up an inappropriate gif. 

Why didn't Mr. V walk in when I had up the gif of the flag? Or the ice cream cake? Or the car driving along a road? I had plenty of innocuous gifs.

The Holiday

Juneteenth is a brand new holiday. (It only became a holiday last year.) It's so new that it took the summer school administration completely by surprise. 

June 19th was a Sunday. A lot of places took the holiday on the following Monday. We did not.

The summer school principal came to see me at the beginning of Monday. He said he had gotten five calls already about whether the day was a holiday or not. It hadn't occurred to him to send out an email saying that we would have school. 

He wasn't sure how many students would show up. 

I actually wasn't missing very many. And because summer school is so short, it wasn't like I could really skip the lessons for the day. 

I assume they'll be better prepared for Juneteenth next year. They'd better be. It will actually fall on a Monday.

And Yet Another New Student

I said it out loud. I was truly asking for it...

On Tuesday, a girl arrived a good fifteen minutes late. She informed me she was joining my class. With eight days left of summer school...

I should have 26 students in my first period and 19 in my third. (Because summer school classes are two hours, they're numbered funny.) I've only had 22 students show up to my first period (although, not all at the same time) and 11 in my third. 

The girl was on my roll sheet. She should have been there the whole time.

She gave me a story about how her mother had not informed her that she had summer school. Likely? Perhaps. The students chosen for this program were of the type that make this plausible. 

So, I added her in. 

But I decided not to do the pre-assessments for her. I mean, I could. But with about a week left, it seemed silly. She will definitely get the post-assessments (if she shows up), but I doubt there'll be much of a change with only a few days of instruction. 

Sigh. Just when I was almost caught up.

Rainy Day of Chaos

It doesn't rain in southern California after about April, so the rainstorm on this particular Wednesday in June was unexpected. (It was forecast, but no one believes that we'll actually get rain in June.) 

And there was thunder and lightning, too. 

I was not surprised that the class was missing a few students. I was surprised when my projector wouldn't connect to my computer. 

More like panicked. I was quite panicked. 

I have set up this entire class on Google Slides. I project everything we're working on. 

I did get the thing to work, but it kept blinking out, which was distracting to the kiddos. But somehow we made it through. 

Until the thing completely died towards the end of the period. 

But they had something to work on, so I had them do that while I fought with the electronics. That had worked perfectly every day up until this day. 

My next class was doubled in size. The teacher next door (Ms. B) felt like death warmed over (her words), so she left early. As they couldn't find her a sub, the only thing to do was to combine her class with mine. 

I had the room.

And, at least I figured out how to get the projector working. 

Her class worked on their stuff individually. I was able to instruct my class with a working projector. 

While in class, a car pulled up outside. It wasn't until after school that I was able to verify my supposition (I was right). 

At the beginning of the school year, I covered a vacant English class. The teacher (Ms. W) had taken a sabbatical. Ms. B had been hired to replace her. 

Well, Ms. W has tendered her resignation. She had left some of her supplies in the classroom. She had been coordinating with Ms. B for a time to come and get them. This was the day she arrived. In the middle of the school day. 

But the students were with me.

They wondered about the car. I didn't explain. It would have taken too long, and I didn't want to go off on that tangent. 

I was really glad to see the end of that day. 

As for the projector, it worked perfectly the next day. And the day after that. I wonder if the electrical storm was the culprit.

Ace, Not Josue

On the first day of summer school, I gave each of the students an index card. I asked them to write their full name in the corner. And then in the center, I asked them to write the name they wanted me to call them by in class. 

Mostly, they wrote their first names. A couple wrote a shortened version of their first names (think Nick instead of Nicholas). But a couple had a different name they wanted to be called. 

The boy's first name was Josue. He had written "Ace" in the center of his card. 

Okay, then. 

I wrote the preferred name on the seating chart. And I've been calling him Ace the whole time.

On the second day of school, I got an instructional aide. She worked in the ELD classes during the school year, so she knew many of the students. She's been doing most of the grading for me (as I've been busy keeping the classes busy with lessons and stuff). 

Last Friday, realizing that I was never going to get to it, I asked the aide to grade the first assignment I gave them, an "About Me" exercise. I asked a lot of general questions in it about who they are and what they like. 

Third period. About half way through class. 

Aide: "You want to be called Ace? I've been calling you Josue all year. Why did you never tell me you wanted to be called Ace?" (The tone was kind, like she was upset at herself for calling him a name he did not like for a year.) 

Apparently Ace is his name at home. For some reason, he never spoke up. 

I'm not sure when I picked up the card trick, but I've been using it in similar situations for a few years now. The kiddos will write their name on a card, but they won't speak up to say, "call me xxx". I mean, a few will, but the vast majority won't. 

The aide then gave me a list of students who had different preferred names. I looked over the list. I knew them all. They had written them on the cards. 

This is why I keep doing the index cards. (Well, that and I use them to call on students randomly.)

Another New Kid

As third period walked in, the class cheered. 

"We have a new student," they informed me.

When we started, the class had seven students. On the second day, we got an eighth. The following week, we got two more, bringing our class total to ten. 

They felt a little too "seen" with such a small class. So new students joining was cause for celebration. 

The majority of them have the same math class the previous period. (There are two periods and five teachers. That they have their whole day together was going to happen.) So, they would have known there was a new student as he would have been in their first period class. 

Now, I don't mind getting an extra student. A class of eleven isn't a big deal. But I had just gotten caught up...

The class is "graded" on two assessments. I did the pre assessments on the first day. As new students joined, I had to then test them each as they entered. 

I had finally gotten all the assessments done. Graded. (It took the aide days to get the spelling assessment graded.) Input into the spreadsheets provided by the district. 

And then one more student...

*shakes head*

This is, of course, normal. But it doesn't make it any less irritating. Fingers crossed that I get no more new students starting. It's almost time to do the post assessments.

The Brick Wall

A few years ago (in the before times), I was covering a math class. The teacher was on campus (for a training or such), and she popped in to make sure we all had what we needed. 

The class was working silently. Everything was going smoothly. 

But the teacher's reaction... She was not happy with them. She explained to me that the class was kind of dull. The students were half asleep. And they were always like this. 

I didn't get what she was getting at.

Now I do.

My first period class is exactly like what she described. And now I get why she wasn't happy with them.

Quiet groups are great. But then there's too quiet. 

Part of the curriculum for this class requires student participation. I read something and they repeat. I go over something and have them answer questions. I ask for them to respond to various topics.

Do they? Nope.

I mean, if I call on someone directly, they'll answer. They do the work put in front of them. 

But when I ask an open-ended question, I get no response. No one volunteers. 

And these are middle schoolers. I should be able to start a topic and have them go wildly off into random reminisces of things that only tangentially touch on that topic. (That's what my third period does.) 

Instead, I start topics, and they stare at me. Waiting. 

Now I get why that teacher didn't like her first period class. It's kind of like teaching to a brick wall, or a virtual class. Sigh. 

At least I'm not dealing with behavioral issues. 

Spelling Test

High school summer school is mostly about credit recovery. If a student fails a class, they need to repeat it to get the credits they need to graduate. 

Middle school is not like that. They generally get promoted whether they passed or failed their classes. So, summer school is generally not held for middle school students. 

But the district got money from the state (I think) to help those students who were "falling behind". They identified students who needed some extra academic help. They put together a program to work on those areas most needing attention. (They started this last school year. This is the second summer for the program.) 

The classes don't get traditional report cards. They get progress reports. So, to measure their progress, we were to start out the classes with some pre-assessments. 

First, we had them read a passage to measure fluency. Then they were given a spelling test. 

Ah, but this was no ordinary spelling test. This was a spelling test of nonsense words. 

On the first day of summer school, I informed them that they were taking a spelling test. 

I explained that the words weren't real. I explained that we wanted to see if they could figure out how these words should be spelled from the sounds of the syllables. And I told them not to sweat it too much. 

But still, I had way more fun with this thing than they did. Because the words...

Oh, the words were fun to say. They were mashed up syllables of recognizable words, changed just a bit so they had no meaning. (I think my favorite was grapherence.) 

It was an interesting little assessment. (I'd share more of the words, but we want to keep them off the internet as I'm sure they're going to use this assessment again.) I wonder who comes up with these things.

The Tech Works

About a month ago, I was going through my work email saved files looking for the calendar for the next school year. As I was digging through that, I found a bunch of emails I had saved for various reasons that I no longer needed. 

Well, I'm sure you know what happened next. I spent some time (it was a moment when I had some time) going through and deleting a bunch of things that I no longer needed. There was the email which contained the calendar for the previous school year. There were various COVID testing emails. There were links to PowerPoints for student testing that had long passed.

And while I was at it, I found the email that contained a link to a PowerPoint on how to connect the school-issued computer to the classroom projector remotely.

What were the chances I'd need that information again? 

Pretty good, I thought. I mean, the last time I was covering a class at that school, it was September. And I didn't need to remotely hook up the computer. But, I figured that there was a good chance I'd need that information again, and since I didn't use it daily, I'd need the resource.

On the first day of the trainings for this summer school class, I patted myself on the back. One of the things that I did do that day was to check out a school computer from the library, and I got it hooked up to the in-class projector. I absolutely used that PowerPoint to get the thing going. 

And I thought about that day when I found that email. 

I'm so glad I was thinking ahead. I just didn't realize how soon I was going to need that information again.

Here We Go Again

A couple weeks before the end of the school year, I got an email from the sub caller. Would I be interested in teaching a summer school class? 

No. Absolutely not. Nope. Not a chance. I want some vacation time...

And then two weeks into summer break, what am I going to be feeling? Will I regret not having taken the gig? 

I dithered. And thought. And replied that yes, I would take the gig. 

School ended the previous Thursday. On Monday we were to report to school for professional development days. 

I was told I'd be teaching ELD (English language development) to middle schoolers. The first day of trainings, I went to the ELD trainings. (They were held virtually.) But, I hadn't received the materials that they were discussing. 

I asked the summer school principal. He looked into it. Turned out, I was supposed to be in the English trainings.

Argh!

(I actually didn't miss anything as the training I didn't need to go to didn't overlap with the training I did.) 

I'd say I was surprised, but I've worked for this district for a lot of years. This sort of thing is kind of standard.

The last day of summer school is June 30th. Then I'll get some vacation time. Maybe. (Don't let me take any more gigs, at least for a couple weeks, okay?)