The Invisible Assignment

Tuesday. Eighth grade math, sixth period. 

They had various assignments in Google Classroom. One was notes. The teacher had created a video for them to watch while they filled in notes from a worksheet that she had provided. Then they were to practice what had been in the notes. (It was the distributive property.) 

Because eighth graders, Ms. S (also a sub) and I were redirecting the kiddos back to what they were supposed to be doing (all. period. long.). 

One boy had nothing written on his paper. I told him to get to work. 

"I'm doing it." And then he used the flashlight on the pen to show that the pen he was using had invisible ink. 

Deep sigh. 

Then, of course, the invisible ink pen garnered all the attention from his classmates. It had to be passed around and such. (The link goes to WalMart, but if you search "invisible ink pen with uv light" you should find similar in your area.) 

But what the boy didn't seem to get (even though both Ms. S and I both explained it) was that he wasn't going to get credit for having done his work in invisible ink. Because his teacher wasn't going to look that hard at his paper. If she can't see work there, she's going to consider it not done. 

You'd think this would be obvious. Not to an eighth grader. 

World Cup Distraction

Last Wednesday I was back at the continuation high school. English. They were studying the Hero's Journey. 

Well, they were supposed to be studying the Hero's Journey. It was a great assignment with video examples and a flow chart for them to fill in so they could get a feel for the topic. 

"Can I go to Coach's room?" 

I usually get a couple requests a day from students who want to go to PE. The volleyball game is very popular. The students do have work to do, but it's their credits they're not earning. 

I check with Coach to make sure it's okay to send them. 

But on this day, they didn't want to play volleyball. On this day, Coach was playing the World Cup match in his room.

As soon as I let one kiddo go, five others popped up. "Can we go, too?"

The next thing I knew, half the class wanted to go. Sigh.

The next period, half the class came from Coach's room (which was next door) to "check in", that is, get marked present so they could go back to watching the game. 

I made a list of who went and left that for the teacher.

And then a few returned because the room was too crowded. They pulled up the game on their computers. 

Occasionally we would hear cheers from next door. Someone would clue us in to what had happened. 

The game ended a few minutes into fifth period. My students returned. Disappointed. 

Mexico lost. 

One girl who had dressed for the occasion in her Mexico jersey said that she wasn't surprised. She figures France is going to win it all. 

And for the rest of fifth period, they debated which team was the best. They all had their favorites. As many of them are from or have family from other countries, that meant that there were a variety of teams being rooted for.

As for me, I don't really follow sports, so I listened with half an ear. And I hoped that they would get their work done eventually.

Do Not Disturb

Some things never happened while I was working on campus.

Monday. I was covering a tenth grade English class. They were working on vocabulary from their next book, Night. 

There was a tap at my window. 

My window overlooks the front door. On this day, plumbers were coming to work on a leak or something, and water was going to be shut off to our building. We had had due notice. 

The water shut off to the building is in our garage. (Some things were built really stupidly in the complex.) So, the plumbers needed access. 

And, uh. . . Yeah, I was home. But I was working. I was on camera. I couldn't just. . . 

I have roommates. When the plumbers knocked on the door, Luisa answered and took care of the issue. 

I like having my blinds open. It was a sunny day, and I like the light. But, perhaps I should keep them closed? Or, I might just need a sign, a "do not disturb" sign. 

But then again, we really don't get too many visitors during school hours usually. 

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.

Disruptions

Monday at the continuation high school. They had a video. (This was the Monday before the election, so it was about the candidates.) 

First and second periods had gone smoothly, so I had established a routine. I introduced the video, explained the assignment that went along with it (notes followed by three questions), and then I started the video. While watching the first ten-ish minutes, I input the roll (I had two computers going). Then I stopped the video so we could do the notes together before continuing on. 

Third period. A couple of the boys greeted each other in chat, but it wasn't anything major, so I didn't think anything of it. Then I did my intro and started the video. 

We were a couple minutes into the video when one boy turned on his mic and made a noise. 

I looked up from my roll taking to figure out who it was. I went back to my roll taking.

The same boy turned his mic back on and played music. It was something with a strong beat. 

I muted him. (It's a simple thing to do. Usually they mute themselves. And once muted, only they can unmute themselves. But I can mute them if necessary.) 

He turned his mic back on and the music was still playing. 

I muted him again. 

We did this one more time. I was just about ready to stop the video and warn him that disrupters would be removed from class (I have the ability to remove anyone from the meet) when he logged out. 

That solved that problem. And with the attendance software I have running in the background, I have a record of when he was there and when he left. 

But, of course that wasn't the only issue. While that boy was entertaining the class, the class was on the chat, commenting on it all. 

A1: who that

i hear a cat

im very confusion.

A2: lol

J1: lmaooooo

A2: im ball of confusion

hate that song

so

god

damn

much

A3: lmfaooo

A1: love is a b****

thats a pretty good song

very soothing

J1: oml

L: *choke me like you hate me*

A1: ew

J1: stop

A2: WAP

J1: lol

J2: lmaoo

J1: you are me

A1: 1v1 mw

J1: i am you

A1: j1 1v1

snipers only

A2: everyone lets play duck duck goose

down?

L: j1 2 good

Rather than come up with replacement names, I've designated them by their first initial. And since those initials repeated, I just designated them 1, 2, or 3. 

With the loud boy gone, I could deal with the chat. I typed in that they needed to stop playing around and that the chat thread would be reported to the teacher. Then I delivered my coup de grâce. I disabled the chat. 

At the beginning of the year, I lamented the goofing off via chat. I came up with a solution for the class I was in that seemed to work. Since then, Google has added a couple dandy little controls for us meet runners. There's now a little "switch" I can toggle to take away their ability to use the chat. 

I had no more issues while the video was playing. (Then I had to restore the chat so the kiddos who were on task could answer my questions, but by then the problem was solved.) 

And how do I have such a precise transcript of the chat? I took pics on my phone so I could email them to their teacher. Because, I don't threaten things I'm not going to follow through on. 

Finals Distraction

The week before winter break was finals week. Due to a teacher taking advantage of the break to recover from surgery, I got to work it.

Eighth grade science. They had finals.

I knew Vanessa from that English class that I started the school year off in. She was fine on her own, but she was also friends with the troublemakers, and she could get loud in concert with them.

My job during a test or final is to keep the class silent while tests are being taken. They know that's the behavior expectation, so once they settle in to the test, I don't usually have issues with them talking. When I have to watch out is when the majority of the class is finished while one or two are still working.

Fifth period. Their final was on Wednesday, first thing.

After they'd gotten started, there was a bit of commotion over near Vanessa. She was having trouble with her left eye. One of her neighbors said she had pink eye.

I pushed them to focus on their own finals. I allowed Vanessa to get a paper towel to wipe her eye. And I watched.

(Pink eye? I don't want a student to have pink eye. That's so contagious. I don't want to catch it!)

One by one, the kiddos finished up and submitted their finals. As they did this, I allowed them to keep their computers and play games or watch videos...

Oh, did I not mention their finals were online? It was a nifty little thing. The final was only open for the two hour window of when their class was. Once they logged in, the final locked them out of doing anything else online until they had completed and submitted it. Because it was computerized, the questions could be scrambled (as well as the answers), so no two students had the same test. And the tests could be individualized, like for the Spanish speaking student whose final was in Spanish.

We got down to four students still working. Then three. Then two. Then just Vanessa. Except, Vanessa wasn't working. She was watching the video of the girl doing her hair on the computer of her neighbor...

I don't usually get in a student's face when they're the last one working. They get all the time they need. But Vanessa wasn't working, so I asked her if she was distracted. I informed her that she was the only one still working, and that if she was distracted, perhaps she should sit somewhere else.

And you know what? She moved. She focused in on her test, and she finished it a few minutes later.

Then she asked to go to the health office because her eye was burning and had been burning the entire time she was working on her final.

Thursday we had all the classes. The teacher had alerted me the evening before that she had finished grading the finals. So, when I saw period five, I let them know that their finals were graded and recorded.

Because everything is computerized nowadays, their grades were posted on Parent Portal. The kiddos all know how to log in and review their grades.

Vanessa was in class. Her eye was fine. Which, luckily, means it wasn't pink eye. (I hope she told her parents and they did something about it, whatever it was.)

She logged in and checked her grade. She got 60%. And she was thrilled.

"I thought I got a 12."

60% isn't great. That's a D. One point above an F. But if she was happy with it...

At least she was trying. That bodes well for the future.

Bouncy Kids

Eighth grade math. It was a team taught class, so I spent the day in support mode. But it's also how I learned about the new toy they had in class.

It's to help with fidgety middle schoolers. Imagine bouncing your feet on these. (I kind of want one.)

The teachers received a grant to outfit the classroom with them.

I don't know if the kiddos like them or not. The other teacher kept them busy all period, so I had no chance to ask.

However, one student pulled it back and released it, creating a low note vibrating through the air.

Ms. V: "If you're going to deliberately make noise with that, I can move you to a desk that does not have one."

After that, all vibrating bands were clearly accidental. I guess they didn't want to be moved.

Ten Minutes' Rap Battle

Yesterday, I mentioned the sleeper is at the continuation high school. Of course, I had him in class. And, of course, he wasn't doing much in the way of working.

The class is computer aided drafting. They "draw" various objects in a computer program. But, this being the continuation high school, many of them don't really apply themselves to classwork.

Ten Minutes (I'm stealing Mr. T's nickname for him) had a buddy in this class. Elliot and Ten Minutes challenged each other to a rap battle. (I'm not sure who instigated this.) At least, that's what they told me later.

I became aware of the situation when Ten Minutes started rapping. Now, he wasn't loud, but in a quiet classroom, even a quiet speaking voice rapping is noticeable. First I dinged him on his language. Because, rap. Every third word or so was inappropriate for a classroom setting.

But then I understood what they were doing. Namely, they weren't doing the assignment. So, I put the kibosh on the rap battle.

They were upset. What? They couldn't talk? I said talking was fine, but not getting any work done... Oh, and there was the whole how-do-they-rap-without-cussing thing. They didn't see the problem. (That they didn't see why having a rap battle in class was inappropriate tells you quite a lot about these boys.)

Once they accepted the rap battle was called on account of substitute teacher, they had to figure out who won. They asked for my ruling. Which was rather ridiculous as Elliot didn't get a chance to compete, and I interrupted Ten Minutes' rap.

I declared a tie.

I told them that they could totally have a rap battle... after class, outside, and/or after school. If they did this, they did not tell me about it.

(It's amazing the things they have to do that suddenly aren't so important when they're not in the classroom.)

The Crayon Box: The New Watercooler

Seventh grade science. It's nearing the end of the year, so they were working on a major project--The Body Book. (It's a review of all the human body systems--like respiratory and skeletal--in an illustrated booklet.)

On this day they were to complete pages for the integumentary system and the endocrine system.

However, I had fair warning--this class was horrible.

As the assignment required colored illustrations, the teacher had provided a tub of crayons. Used, abused, broken crayons. (The kiddos don't treat provided materials with respect.) The students could borrow colors as needed.

A girl and two boys hovered over the crayon tub. When I queried them, they claimed they were searching for specific colors. But they weren't digging through the tub as vigorously as I'd expect. Or at all. No, it was clear they were having a conversation. (I definitely got a flirting vibe.)

I told them to find their colors and take a seat.

I would have hovered over them, but the class needed more attention. I had roamers to chase down. One girl decided she's rather sit on the floor. Another boy was arguing with a fellow student, and the pair needed my intervention.

I returned to the crayons to find the three still there.

Okay, fine. Time to put a timer on it.

I found the teacher's timer, set it for two minutes, and told them that was their time limit. They left before the timer went off--without crayons.

On the bright side, this assignment is worth major points, so the goofing off will impact their grades.

Whodunit?

Eighth grade English. It was the class that stole my clock. On a Friday. With an assembly scheduled.

Basically, I was doomed from the start.

I had gone over what their assignment was. They were doing the settling in thing, where they get their work out, they figure out what they need to do, and they get started. I turned away for a second (I think I was getting the roll sheet or some housekeeping thing like that), and that's when a sharp "pop" sounded.

And the class reacted to the stink bomb that someone threw.

Chaos ensued. Those closest to the offending smell fled the room. Others complained about the smell. Someone pulled out their perfume and sprayed. (It never fails. There's always someone who does this, and I always go after them as we don't know who might be allergic.)

I called security. (Well, I called the office and they called security...)

Victoria arrived. She got the class back in their seats and told them all to write down on a sheet of paper (without putting their names) what they knew of the incident.

While they were doing this, Anisha warned them not to be "snitches" and say anything.

Whether they listened to Anisha, they didn't know anything, or they just didn't want to say, it's hard to tell. But every single page had a variation of "I know nothing" on it.

Victoria pulled three students from class, one of whom was Anisha.

Upon Anisha's return, she informed the class that one of the boys who had been pulled had "taken the fall" for the incident. Apparently, he had stink bombs in his backpack. But it was clear that Anisha was telling the class it wasn't actually his fault.

I kind of wonder who the culprit is. Although, I was more concerned with getting the class back to some semblance of proper classroom behavior. This did actually occur, but only after several students who couldn't stand the smell fled.

I rather think it was one of them.

Those who remained were nose blind to the smell after a short while. And they know what's coming to them upon their teacher's return. They rather think they deserve whatever is coming.

What is your vice of choice after a particularly hard day? What is one way you tortured the substitute teachers you had in your classes? 

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

Quite the Handful

When I called ahead for subbing assignments, I was offered this middle school special ed math class for two days. After the time I had with sixth period, you'd probably think I'd turn it down. (There were other teachers out, so I did have options.)

But the instructional aide, Ms. S, said the rest of the day wasn't so bad, and I knew Ms. S was there the whole day. How bad could it be?

Ms. S and I arrived at the same time on Thursday morning. She clued me in to how things needed to proceed. She'd run things. She knew the kiddos. She knew the routine. I'd just have to follow her lead.

But... Oh, by the way... Ms. S had to leave early that day. You know, right before sixth period.

First through fourth periods went pretty well. They were working on solving inequalities and then graphing those answers. We had to take it slow as they were having difficulty. But that was to be expected. That's how things go in a special ed class.

I got to watch what Ms. S did all day. My job was to replicate that for sixth period. I've done that sort of thing before.

Sixth period arrived. And they were pretty much as I remembered them. (Samuel still won't sit. Ashley still won't focus. Edward had been moved, so he and Ashley didn't have issues.)

I attempted to get through the lesson. And I kind of did. It took longer than the other periods. There were all sorts of distractions (*ahem* Samuel. Ashley. *ahem*). But for the most part they let me teach. (Classes don't always. I appreciate it when I am allowed to get them through the lesson.)

So, a win. Sort of.

I was told they were the brightest group of the day. The were also the largest. Put them in sixth period, and that's why they were the most difficult.

Do you remember what classes you had at the end of the day? Were you burned out by then, or did you have a class in play mode?

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

Too Fast

Friday. Middle school. Fundamentals of engineering.

Their assignment was to sketch out an alphabet that looked roughly like this:

I projected the alphabet on a screen at the front of the room. But I could only get two to three rows on screen at the same time, so periodically I'd have to scroll.

About half the class was diligently working. The other half of the class was playing. (This is typical in middle school electives. This is typical in middle school required subjects, too.)

At about the middle of the room, there were two girls who were all about the games. They started off by finishing off their lunch. (The diligent workers confirmed that they weren't allowed to eat in class.) Then they were gossiping, checking out their phones, chatting with the others in class, and pretty much doing things that were not on task.

But they remained in their seats, so while I kept an eye on them, I didn't do much more than periodically remind them that they had an assignment.

As the workers finished up the first row of letters (after like 20 minutes), I moved the screen up...

"Hey, wait. I wasn't done yet."

One of the girls wanted me to move the letters back. She had only finished the "A". She told me I was moving too fast.

Hmmm... So, scroll back so the goofing off girl can get caught up. Or keep things moving forward for all the students that were making progress. Difficult decision...

When I wouldn't move the letters back, the girl asked if she could go to the library to print out a copy of what she needed.

(The letters were on the teacher's website. Those who had phones could access the example that way. The teacher didn't trust them with Chromebooks when she wasn't in the room. After seeing the classes, I completely understand why.)

She returned without the hard copy. The library was "too crowded" and she couldn't get access. Her friend then decided to try... And also returned without a hard copy.

Now, they could have worked ahead. So what if they missed A-D? They could still continue with the other letters on the screen instead of wasting their time...

Oh, what am I saying? It was all about wasting their time.

I went ahead and signed up for the A to Z Challenge starting April 1st. (I'm #514 on the sign up list as I write this.) Not that anything is really going to change. You'll just notice how each day goes one further in the alphabet.

And... Happy birthday, Chris. (Feel free to wish my little brother a happy birthday :)

Hiding the Phone Prank

Advanced eighth grade English. So, I figured "the good kids" and no problems, right? Ah, not so fast...

Third period. They had just finished their warm up (defining the root word of the day: mort/mor, and fixing the grammatical errors in a given sentence). I was passing out their assignment for the day while another student was stamping their homework.

There was a commotion on the other side of the room.

A boy was chasing a girl.

Girl: "I didn't take it. Here, check my backpack."

Boy: "Give me back my phone!"

Oh crap. And, of course, these are eighth graders, so the whole class was now into this. Several students were looking for the phone while others were enjoying the scene. One girl in the back far corner couldn't stop laughing.

Somehow, I got the two of them seated. I reminded them that their teacher, Ms. R, was not going to be happy when she heard about this. That seemed to quell most of the merriment. Although, the boy still wanted his phone.

Well, the girl in the back far corner who enjoyed the show way too much? Yeah, she had it. She hadn't taken it, however. No. That was the girl who protested her innocence.

I've seen this show before. One student steals item. Then she deposits it somewhere else. Student two plays dumb, because she didn't take it. She's just hiding it.

Whatever. All I want is peace for the period. Ms. R can sort the rest of it out upon her return. Because, you know I did tell her all about it.

Bad Choices

The lesson plan warned that the Earth science classes were "immature". That's putting it mildly...

The teacher had left enough work to fill up the two-hour summer school block easily. Most decided not to even attempt it. A couple said that it was "too much work". So, instead...

• I explained to one boy that using his external phone speaker was not appropriate for class. He was broadcasting some video for him and his friend, and the whole class could hear.
• One girl explained to her seat partner how to "see" their auras. Then she looked up what those colors meant. 
• One girl danced over in the corner. When I explained that dancing in class was not appropriate, she questioned me as to why. 
• Two boys sniped at each other, one calling the other "rat" and the other calling the first boy "whale". Among other insults. 

And that's not even including how attached to their phones these kiddos were. I'd swear some would have to have them surgically detached the way they seemed to be attached to their hands. 

I should not have been surprised. These students are a select subset of the population. In order, they 

1. Failed (or got a D) in 8th grade science. (If they had gotten a C or better, they would have taken biology in 9th grade.) And,
2. Failed 9th grade Earth science. I know this because they are now in summer school for it.

You'd think they'd wake up and realize there's a problem, but they aren't self-aware enough for that yet. 

Anyway, towards the end of the day I got to perusing the class rosters. And I burst out laughing. (I didn't bother to hide it. They weren't paying me any attention.)

I was looking at the students who had been dropped from the class. (If they are absent three times, they get dropped from summer school. Period.) And one name popped out at me immediately. 

Blaine. (I also wrote about him here and here.)

Figures. 

I'm not surprised that he failed Earth science. And I'm not surprised he stopped coming to summer school. 

I have a feeling I'll be seeing him at the continuation high school in the not too distant future.

Blue Slime

It was the 3rd time I'd covered the advanced ELD class at the middle school in four weeks. 5th period was... challenging...

The teacher expected them to work silently, and while the rest of the classes did, 5th period would not.

There's something about this age. Emotions are heightened. Brighter. And impulse control is nearly nonexistent.

When Alex went into his backpack and pulled out a container of blue goo, I knew where this was headed.

(The slime/goo stuff has been around for a bit, now. I've seen it before. Not as often as I see Rubik's Cube. A calmer class on a different day explained the recipe to me. You can find that here.)

I told Alex to put the goo away. He refused.

It was passing period, he said. He just wanted to look at it, he said. He'd put it away at the bell, he said.

via GIPHY

By the time the bell rang to begin class, Alex had a portion of the goo stuck to the carpet on the floor... (And, of course, two other boys were also distracted by other issues at the same time.)

Somehow, I got the rest of the class settled, passed out the day's assignment, and got roll taken. Alex still had the slime out and by now it was all over his hands.

15 minutes later he was almost ready to get to work. The goo was back in its container. He just needed to go to the restroom to wash his hands. They were now blue.

via GIPHY

You know that old sign? "A lack of planning on your part does not constitute an emergency on mine"? Apparently, this was Alex's first exposure to the idea. 

A Burning Question?

7th grade science. The teacher had a meeting for the last period of the day, so I came in to cover on my prep period. As he was on his way out, the teacher warned me that the class could be a little difficult, and I was to leave him the names of any troublesome students.

Surprisingly, they managed to settle fairly well, although many weren't getting all that much work done. Too much talking. After they "finished" their warm up, I was to explain their assignment. I passed out the paper...

"Where do babies come from?"

The boy was on the other side of the room. I continued to pass out paper.

Now, while this is not an unreasonable question, the timing was awful. The class was loud. I was in the midst of getting them ready to do the next thing. And reproduction was not the topic for the day. So, I ignored the boy.

I finished passing out their paper. I turned on the projector (this was the sort of assignment that needs an example). But before I could get going, the boy doubled down...

"If they don't want us to know, why is this in our textbook?"

The boy held up a page showing... well, it's a life science class, and the end of the book has a unit on organ systems. I'll leave it to your imagination.

I picked up the standards for "causing a disruption" and gave it to the boy. (Standards are where they make them copy lines as punishment, in this case for disrupting class.) Then I attempted to explain what they were expected to finish by the end of the period.

Some students will do anything to get out of doing work. This boy was an amateur.

The Stench

It happens in middle school classrooms with alarming regularity. Someone farted.

You know how you react when that happens in your vicinity? Multiply that by a factor of 13-year-old hormones.

Also, this class was on warning. This was a Monday. On Friday with the previous well-respected sub, they had been so unruly that two teachers on opposite sides of the hall could hear the class. With their doors closed.

Yeah, so a smelly event was the last thing this group needed.

I had the usual loud complaints. The two students who had to jump out of their seats and flee. One girl even went outside. And recriminations at the culprit.

At least that boy was sitting near a door. We opened that. The air conditioning was on, so we had air flow.

Still, getting them to settle back down...

Middle school. Always an adventure.

Rearranging the Books

It was Thursday (or day four) of my week in the 11th grade English class. Period 4 was the creative writing group.

Like many English teachers do, Ms. E has a bookcase filled with various novels. Students are allowed to borrow these novels on reading days (Mondays) or after quizzes (when they're supposed to be doing something silently). Ms. E's bookcase looked like it got many borrows, with various books stacked haphazardly when students returned a book without fitting it back into the shelves as neatly as it had been when they took one.

I didn't think much of it. But, apparently, someone couldn't stand the look of it.

London walked in, took a look at the shelves, and decided that she could stand it no longer. She was going to fix them. The period hadn't yet started, but she did. She pulled books off the shelves and onto her table. Her tablemate arrived, and she pulled her into the task as well.

They did have an assignment. (Of two short stories we had read, they were to figure out how to adapt one into a movie.) London promised she'd get it done.

(I could have stepped in and said no. But I didn't see the harm in letting her straighten the books.)

They'd barely started their task when I noticed something. I mentioned that when one alphabetizes books (as the girls decided to do), they're generally alphabetized by author's last name. But they had started alphabetizing by title, so they kept on doing it that way.

Well, it wasn't like there was any rhyme or reason to it before...

It took them about half the period. (If I had known the bookcase was going to get a makeover, I totally would have taken a picture of it before. Ah well...) At least it turned out neat...

This is a vast improvement over how it was before.

The girls hope that Ms. E is going to notice, but they think she might not. She should. Things like this get mentioned in my note.

Have you ever been so annoyed by someone else's clutter that you took it upon yourself to straighten up? How are your bookshelves organized (or are they)? 

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It was two days before their winter break. I had an 8th grade English class (with Blaine!). And they were... well... kind of how you'd expect.

The period started. I had just gotten them settled enough to explain the assignment. As I began explaining about the story they were about to hear, a voice from the side of the classroom announced:

"How many of you like Kool-Aid?"

Half the class raised their hands.

I glared at the boy. Abraham. Why? Where had that...?

I just about got them settled again when Abraham asked another question.

I growled at him. That's when I noticed he wasn't in his assigned seat.

First I told him to get to his proper seat. Then I had to explain the inappropriateness of shouting out non-sequitur questions while I was trying to get class started.

8th graders. *shakes head*