Sex in Scrabble

Seventh grade ELD (English language development, read: English language learners).

The teacher was out on jury duty (first day--I don't know if she got selected for a jury as I worked elsewhere the next day). The lesson plan was a bit of a scramble. This group was to play Scrabble.

If you think about it, it's an excellent way to have them doing something in English. And due to limited boards, the students played in pairs as teams, which meant they were conferring on proper English words.

Things went fairly well. I mean, they got a little loud, but that was to be expected.

Then one group called me over. They were talking as I approached.

"It means gender."

They needed a ruling. Was it okay to play the word "sex"?

Sigh. For that age... But they weren't giggling. It was an actual, reasoned debate. The team that wanted to play it rightly pointed out it had a valid definition that was classroom appropriate.

Considering the tenor of the conversation, I allowed it. They weren't being silly. They were treating it as a word. I appreciated that.

Besides, using X was going to give them issues anyway.

Pencil War

It was one of those classes that I'm only grateful for because it's good for the blog. Freshman math. On a Friday. With a quiz.

Girl: "Give me back my pencil."

Boy: "It's my pencil. I was using it in first period. Everyone here will back me up."

And sure enough, those around the pair did agree that the boy had the pencil in first period. To which the girl asserted that she had lent him that pencil in first period...

All I wanted was for them to stop talking and work on their quiz. This was the latest distraction to keep the kiddos from behaving. (I demand silence until all the quizzes have been turned in.)

It was a light blue mechanical pencil. Very nice. And if they couldn't decide between themselves whose pencil it was, I was going to take that bone of contention and let their teacher decide. On Tuesday.

(I believed the girl. In these situations, the person with the item who claims it's theirs is generally lying. But, the liar gets very vocal, and at this point all I wanted was silence.)

Once that was settled, there were other issues to demand my time. The day was bad. And in a bad day, this class (second period) was the worst.

So, of course, as they're leaving, the boy said to the girl: "Did you get your pencil back?"

Because, naturally. To my face he swore up and down it was his. Just to mess with the girl, I suspect.

Not a Word

"That hurted me."

Tenth grade English. It was the Friday before Thanksgiving break. They had a project having to do with Macbeth, and so they were talking and working.

If I had a dollar for every time a student used the word "hurted", I would not need to sub. Normally, I don't say anything about it. There are many of them who are English language learners, and I don't feel the need to correct every one of their grammar errors.

However, this didn't start with me. Another student pointed out that "hurted" isn't a word.

The boy who had said it said of course it was.

Um, no. No, it's not proper usage. And now it was time for me to jump in and point that out.

Oh no. He apparently knows English usage better than I do. He informed me that it was correct.

We went back and forth. I told him to go ahead and look it up. He got out his phone. He found this entry from Wiktionary...

And somehow he seemed to think this proved his point. I asked him what century we were in. He got it right on the second try. I pointed out the "archaic" part.

Still, he would not be dissuaded.

Okay, fine. You can't convince someone who won't be persuaded by proof. So, I walked away.

I did, however, make a point of telling the teacher all about this at the end of the day. (She was on campus, so she returned to the room after school.) I mean, it's an English class, after all. Teaching proper usage is part of her job.

She knew exactly who I was talking about. And I have a feeling "hurted" is going to be on the agenda upon their return from Thanksgiving break. If only I could be a fly on the wall on that day...

(If you want a good laugh, look up "hurted" on Urban Dictionary. Apparently this issue is more widespread than I thought.)

Figuring it Out

High school chemistry. It's the beginning of the year, so they were learning about significant figures. I thought the assignment much easier than they thought it was. It helps that the topic isn't new to me.

As I did my first walk around, one girl was explaining to a fellow student something about the assignment. I stopped and listened for a moment. As she was explaining it correctly, I didn't interrupt. Then I moved on.

(I like when students help students. Both students get something out of it.)

A bit later in the period, a boy raised his hand.

"Who's right, me or her?"

As the girl he was indicating was the one who had been helping another student earlier, I assumed the girl. But when he showed me which problem and I looked at it, I was surprised to find that the girl was actually wrong.

The boy gloated. I pointed out that he was still figuring things out too. (Not all his work was 100% correct.)

The girl and I debated for a bit. But once I found the rule she needed in her notes, she was able to figure things out. (She had her notes out. The boy did not.) She had been looking at the wrong rule.

(I had not realized how much of this I had internalized until I'm hit with seeing the "rules" written out. It's amazing how much one can retain.)

How Not to Wear a Ribbon

I saw the small bag with the ribbons in them when I arrived in class. The Post-It said I was to pass them out to first period and why. But, being a middle school class, I figured passing the ribbons out at the end of the period would be for the best, so I set it aside.

But then, midway through the period, one of the assistant principals came over the PA to say something about the ribbons. Now the kiddos were clued in to their existence, so against my better judgment, I passed the ribbons out.

These were the standard small lapel pin ribbons that celebrities wear on the red carpet. These ribbons were orange, and they had provided a small pin to attach them to clothing. (Alas, not a safety pin...)

If you know middle schoolers, you know what came next.

They couldn't figure out how to attach the ribbons. I tried to demonstrate, but they were mostly not listening. One girl just had me attach the thing to her shirt.

The boy next to her, however, decided to pin the pin through his finger.

The girl was grossed out. She asked him to take the thing off his finger. Knowing it was bothering her, the boy, of course, now made a bigger deal out of the pin sticking in his finger than he had before.

I'm squeamish. I objected to this display as well. When the boy wouldn't relent, I informed the boy he had now lost the ribbon. He handed it over with minimum fuss.

The rest of the class managed to attach the ribbons to their clothing. One boy put it on his pants. Another put it on his backpack. The other boy who attached it to his finger put the ribbon on something else.

At the end of the period, the boy wanted the ribbon back. They were having an assembly that day, and all the students were encouraged to have them on. I explained that if he attached it again to his flesh, he would lose it completely.

He attached it to the hood of his sweatshirt. Well, I said it had to be on his clothing. So, good enough. He argued that attaching it to his hair would work as well, but I vetoed that idea. And then they left.

Why were ribbons being distributed to the students? They were in honor of the student who passed away over winter break. Cancer. They were honoring her with a moment of silence at the assembly.

Video Bargaining

It's testing time. While not all classes test, the whole school was on block schedule to accommodate those that do. For me, this meant two hour classes.

Mr. W had planned things out well, though. His 10th graders were reading Shakespeare's Julius Caesar, so we started with 40ish minutes of listening to the end of Act III (with breaks for them to answer comprehension questions). Then they had some end of act questions, some vocabulary, and then we started Act IV. We were to finish with the last half hour watching a movie version.

Not that they really watched the movie (even though it was the part where the senate murders Caesar--go to about the 49th minute to see that scene if you're interested). Nor were they really following along with the audio. But they'd rather have the video so I wasn't hassling them about answering questions.

"Let's watch the video for the last hour of class," one boy requested.

The lesson plan was clear. "We'll watch it for the last half hour."

The boy would not be dissuaded. "But the last hour will be better."

Me: "We'll watch the video for the last half hour."

Still, the boy would not take my hint. "We'd rather watch the video for the last hour."

At a certain point, I lose patience with the argument. "Okay then. We'll watch the video for the last fifteen minutes..."

"Oh, ho, ho, ho..." He saw what I was doing.

"So, the last half hour, cool?" And the argument was finished.

I don't know why they think they're going to talk me down. Do they think I'm really going to negotiate? Well, when it gets to this point, I do negotiate. Just not in the direction they'd like. (This trick works every time.)

Have you ever tried haggling with someone? How did it turn out? Have you ever read Julius Caesar?

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

Early Bell

I do keep an eye on the clock. At about two to three minutes until the end of the period, I announce to the class that it's time to clean up. But this day for fifth period, the class was packed up, cleaned up, and waiting by the door way before I made any sort of announcement. So, I asked...

"Why are you lining up at the door now? We've still got five minutes left of class."

"No we don't. We get out at 1:15."

"Nope. Class ends at 1:17." I pulled out a class schedule and showed him.

"But the bell rings at 1:15."

At a certain point the argument gets pointless, so we waited it out. 1:15... 1:16...

And the bell rang.

I was right. Well, sort of. Just because the clocks in the classroom were about 30 seconds slow does not negate this.

The Backpack Scandal

Never argue with a teenager. It doesn't matter how many reasonable, well-thought-out points you make. If they feel they are right, nothing you say will convince them otherwise.

It was Friday at the continuation high school. The counselor followed Juan into the room to retrieve his backpack. She left with two.

(The continuation high school does not permit backpacks. I've always assumed the ban was to discourage the bringing of weapons and/or drugs to campus, considering the makeup of the student body.)

Juan was incensed. It was one of those drawstring bags (kind of like this one), and it only contained a folder, his cell phone charger, his keys, and some hand sanitizer. (Which he pulled out before the bag was taken away. Which he could retrieve at the end of the day.)

Why, Juan wanted to know, couldn't he bring that to school when girls are allowed to bring purses?

And he grilled me on this.

(Because I am somehow responsible?)

After ten minutes of his haranguing, I explained that complaining to me about this policy was about as useful as arguing with the wall.

The policy is, I agree, a bit sexist. I understand the distinction, but the girls do take advantage of the purse exception. Some of them carry bags that hold about as much as a backpack does. But there are some things that a girl does need a purse for.

I tried to argue the distinction with Juan, but he shot down every one of my points. I don't know why I bothered. Even if I could find a good argument, Juan would have found a way to argue against it.

(This is not the first time I've been in this sort of situation.)

Somehow the class finally settled. But Juan was still upset. He decided to write a letter to the principal. He even suggested starting a petition and asked his classmates if they'd sign it. Even the girl in the room with the offending purse agreed.

I did not know Juan was writing this letter until he brought it over to me. He asked me to read it. I offered a few notes. (I checked the grammar. It was a bit rambly and had just a basic argument, but it made his point, so I told him it was "good".) By the end of the period he had it ready and he said he was going to take it to the office.

It'll be interesting to see if he gets anywhere with this. (It's within the realm of possibility that he could get the administration to make some sort of a change. Probably not everything he wants. Several policies have changed in the past, so it's possible.)

What the Girls Said

The continuation high school has a school newspaper. (They have a yearbook and they hold a prom, too.) Occasionally, I get to sub the class as I did last week.

Some days they are working on articles for the school paper. But when they're kind of between issues, they get current event type assignments. This time, they had to write up a report on an article that the teacher provided.

The article was on recycling bins that could take data from smart phones to generate targeted ads to passersby. Well, that is, these data sniffing recycling bins had been disabled. (I can't get a good link to the article they were using, but the link provided gives you the gist of the story.)

It was a writing assignment, analyzing the article and picking out the pertinent information. I got the usual questions about what they needed to write. And then a girl in the back of the room had a different comment. She felt the recycling bins were wrong--they were an invasion of a person's privacy.

Then a girl two seats over disagreed. She felt that data gathering wasn't a big deal. She'd rather have people looking in an effort to keep us safe from the crazies out there. Her argument was that if you aren't doing anything wrong, you don't have anything to hide, so why should you care if people are gathering digital information on you?

In circumstances like these, I like to keep my personal views out of it and let the students debate their own viewpoints. It turned into a good discussion, with both girls making valid points. A couple other students added their thoughts, and while they should have been writing, I figured that the discussion was a good educational use of their time.

Interestingly enough, a couple boys in class got very uncomfortable with the conversation. I wasn't sure why as the girls weren't rude, only offering differing viewpoints. The girls explained to the boys that they were allowed to have a discussion, and if that sort of discussion made the boys uncomfortable, they might have issues with their future wives.

One boy claimed he'd marry a mute girl. (I pointed out that she'd probably use sign language.) Another claimed he'd never marry.

The girls eventually finished their discussion and got back to work. One of the boys asked me what significance the article had. I pointed to the two girls. "What they said."

I'm a Hologram

As with most student conversations that lure me in, I joined late. The thing that caught my ear was the statement, "I'm a hologram."

Huh?

Reggie was arguing with three other students. Reggie reminded them that Tupac was dead. The others disagreed. They all claimed that they were holograms too. (How this proved that Tupac was still alive did not get explained to me.)

Reggie touched one of them. He told them that if they were really holograms, his hand should pass right through them. Hands passing right through? The three started giving Reggie the proof he needed.

"See, it passed right through my hand."

Yep, the pencil did pass through the student's hand--between his fingers. He tried the trick again using another pen, but Reggie pointed out the obvious. The other student seemed to think his point was proven.

Then a second student showed how his finger went through a piece of paper. After he poked a hole through it.

Reggie was beside himself. I couldn't stop laughing.

"I can walk through that wall."

The door was open.

"See, that girl just walked through that wall."

She left the room to use the restroom. She left through the open door.

I told Reggie that it wasn't worth getting worked up about. He should enjoy the show as much as I was. (I normally keep a straight face when such things go on, but this time it was just so ridiculous that I couldn't.)

Eventually, the conversation turned and Reggie found other ways not to do the assignment. (They were to write two facts per page from their reading from the textbook. Reggie wrote: "Jupiter has gravity." I thought that was a bit general and vague.) The class ended without further reference to holograms...

Then, after lunch, I opened the door to let the students in. As students passed outside, I heard calls.

"I'm a hologram."

Okay. Fine. Whatever.

Freshmen!

A Light Problem

I used to have a MySpace account.  I started my blog there.  But after I had a few too many technical difficulties, I moved the blog here.  I have since closed the MySpace account.  I hate to lose all of my blogs from that time, so from time to time I repost them here.  

This was originally posted March 26, 2007.  

I covered a physics class today. Kids who take physics tend to be fairly self-reliant, so I was more in babysit mode than anything else. Though, I did get one interesting question.

Two students were working on the assignment (book work). They started arguing about one of the problems. The girl called me over to mediate.

They were working on a light unit. The question had to do with a three-way light bulb, the power output, and the luminosity. The boy explained that their teacher had told them to do it this one way. He worked out the luminosity of each setting of the three-way bulb and matched it to what that problem was asking for.

The girl explained that she figured the problem out on her own. She calculated the power output that the problem asked for and matched it back to what they had been given.

So, who was right? They both were. They both got the same answer. Each of them just did it a different way.

I explained this. It took some time before I could convince the boy (and explain to him what the girl had done--he didn't understand). Finally the (excuse the expression) light bulb went off over his head. He got it.

Not Stupid

I was back at the continuation high school today.  English class.  4th period was journalism.

The assignment was to read through a student news magazine, and then they were to answer questions on the back cover.  I've done this with them before, so I knew the drill.

I had seven students in class.

We read through the short news stories at the front.  Emily had not heard about the oil spill.  Then we read through the short articles in the back.  Everyone knew about the upcoming Karate Kid remake.

Then we got to the Debate article on the new Arizona immigration law.  I read through the article (it was my turn to read), and then we discussed.  The discussion ended up becoming a debate with good questions asked.  Emily wasn't sure what the big deal was, and her classmates tried to explain (I jumped in to help as well).

After we had exhausted the topic, Emily observed that the school could use a debate team.  Her friend replied that the school wouldn't because "they" thought the students were stupid.

I said that no one thought that the students at the school were stupid.  Just unmotivated.  I can't recall what words I used, but I phrased it nicely.  The girls boiled it down.  Most of the students just don't care.

See, not stupid.  They're perfectly aware of what got them to the continuation high school in the first place.

Then the girls realized that no one would join a debate team, and trying to get one started could be a waste of time.  That's when we moved on to the cover story of the magazine, and soon the period was over.

To Makeup or Not to Makeup

I was back at the continuation high school. Today was their first day back after a three-week break.

I don't get the whole apply-makeup-in-class thing that many of the girls do. I always thought that it made more sense to do that at home, before school. And who wants to do touch ups all day? But many of the girls pull out their makeup during class.

One girl was doing her makeup. She was seated next to a boy. Neither were working on the assignment. The boy was talking to the girl, and he was doing it loudly enough for me to hear. He wanted to know why the girl had to wear makeup.

The girl didn't get much of a chance to give him an answer. The boy kept talking. He complained about how when his family is going out, he has to wait for his sisters who take forever to get ready. He explained--an hour in the shower, an hour to do makeup, and hour for hair... His thought: this stuff was unnecessary.

The boy tried to get the other boys in class to agree with him. (The rest of the class was working on the assignment.) The other boys remained silent, focused. "Agree with me. Just say yes, you agree." No one did.

I don't know if anyone won that argument. The girl finished her touch ups and put her makeup away. And the boy moved on to other topics.

Did either of them turn in any work today? Of course not.