Returned

By the luck of the app, I happened to catch a day in the art class I had started this school year in. (If things hadn't been so dead lately, I probably would have "missed" it, but I couldn't afford to miss another day as there was no guarantee that anything else would pop up.) 

First period. Tuesday. 

They had a shading assignment. I was given instructions to go over with them, so it was a more labor intensive day for me. (Not a bad thing, but it meant that I was pretty busy engaging with students, and I had less dead time than usual.) 

And, of course, I had many restroom pass requests. 

I don't give this a lot of thought. If no one else is out of the room, the kiddo can go. I write down their names and the time they left (so I can track how long they were gone). 

Joshua was out of the room. I had three other students who were waiting to go. And the phone rang. 

"Did you let Joshua out to go to the restroom? Security found him out wandering..." And this is where I got reprimanded for letting Joshua out of class, because Joshua was on the escort list. 

Escort list? 

Okay, so some students take advantage of restroom passes. They leave their class, and instead of doing their business and getting back to class, they wander campus. They meet up with their friends. They share vapes in the restroom. I don't know what they do out there, but it's not something they should be doing. 

Students who take too long out of class get added to an escort list. That means that if that kiddo asks to use the restroom, the teacher has to call security to escort them to the restroom. They hate this, but they've demonstrated that they can't be trusted to leave class on their own. 

They provide subs with the list. It's in the folder we get. Although, usually the teacher will leave the names of who we need to call security for. It didn't even occur to me to check the list, not that I had time to do so. 

(Oh, and the list is a mess. It's mostly alphabetical by first names, grouped by grade level, but there are a few with last names listed first. And then half the list is a jumble of I don't know what, because it's not quite alphabetical and it's definitely not grouped by grade level.) 

Joshua returned to class fifteen minutes after he left (yes, I was keeping track). Surly. Ah well. 

Ms. D was on campus (they were doing some curriculum planning) and stopped by after first period. I told her of the incident. 

It turns out that Joshua was on the escort list for a week a while ago. Otherwise she totally would have left his name. And there were no other students on the escort list (as far as I could tell; I went through the list and compared it to the class rosters, and... well, I mentioned that the list was a mess). 

There has got to be a better way to deal with restroom passes and wandering students. I don't know what it is.

Repeats

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A Polite Mob

It had been a while since I caught a day at the adult transition center (February 2023, in case you wondered). And my year at the ATC ended in June 2022. 

(For those of you relatively new here, in November 2021, while we were back in school but under Covid restrictions, I caught a long-term assignment for a class whose teacher suddenly retired--because she refused to get vaccinated--at a school for 18-22-year-olds who are very special ed. Here's a link to my "atc" tag where I've collected all the posts from my experiences there.) 

Since it's been a while, I saw many new faces as many of the students I'd been with had finished or "culminated". Or were in other classes. I had one of the instructional aides from Ms. S's class. And Pizza. (Leanne was also in the class, but she was absent this day. Her mother had passed away the previous week.) 

It turned out to be CBI day. That stands for community based instruction, but what it means is we go off campus so the students can practice doing things in the community. Specifically, ordering lunch and paying for it. 

There were eight students and four staff (including me). 

We headed out to the mall. We caught the city bus. We walked the mall (it was busier than normal because December, but it wasn't crazy busy). We had lunch in the food court. (Unsurprisingly, Pizza went to Sbarro for pizza.) They all got to choose what they wanted from the various vendors. 

As we headed out to catch the bus to get back to the school, we stopped in Macy's to kill some time. (We headed out a little early to get Starbucks, but those lines were shorter than expected.) We headed upstairs on the escalator as Pizza needed a restroom. 

As we took over the escalator, Ms. D commented that we were a mob. I replied, "Yes, but we're a polite mob". Because they were. Very polite. Letting others go first. Waiting in line. Doing what one should in public.

I mean, that's the point of these trips, after all. 

It's good to get back there from time to time. Of course, this was the easier class. And it was good to get off campus.

(It was really good for me as I needed to pick up a Christmas gift, and we went right by the place I had planned to hit after work that day. Suddenly, I didn't need to make an extra trip on my way home. Hooray!)

Memory Lane

Monday. Auto shop.

(Yes, one of the schools I work at still has an auto shop class. It's been years since I had a chance to cover it, but last school year I had a chance to interact with them when my car door's lock broke and they installed a new one.) 

It actually was a pretty chill day. Because sub, the kiddos were assigned bookwork. (Auto shop 1 was studying the cooling system while auto shop 2 was dealing with wiring schematics and circuit testing.) 

Shop classes tend to have bookwork with a sub because a sub isn't trained on all the safety concerns, so it's just safer and easier to not have them work with equipment. Which is fine with me. (Although, you should have seen their book. It's huge. I don't know how they lifted that monster, it was so big.)

The auto shop 2 class had a couple familiar faces. Remember Adriel from the math class I covered in the spring? He was there. 

And there was a girl (well, there was more than one in the class...). And she just seemed familiar. I did a quick calculation, and yup, it had to be her. See, I recalled this now senior from when she was in seventh grade. It seems London is all grown up. Time flies... (Click on the links for the posts where I talked about her at the time.) 

But not only did I know many of the students. The class also has an instructional assistant that's been with the class for years. She also works with the district's occupational program. She's also made the blog before, as Ms. E is the IA who Harmony threatened to trip a couple years back. Whether my warning helped I can't say, but I can say that Harmony never managed to make good on that threat. And since she's left the district, I think Ms. E is safe.

(Ms. E brought up that incident. We talked about Harmony. I asked if she graduated. She ended up on independent study towards the end, so maybe? Probably? Some day I might ask, but I likely won't think of her next time I'm around the people who would know.) 

This is what happens sometimes. I run into students (and staff) who I have history with. It's nice to see the kiddos grow up. 

Unexpected Familiar Face

I finally got back to the continuation high school last Monday. 

It used to be that the sub caller would put me over there, as she knew I was fine with working there. But ever since we went to the computerized scheduling app, finding and catching those days has been harder. And with the long term I started the year with, I just haven't seen the school since about February. 

February? Let me go back into my posts. I'm sure I wrote about the last time I was there...

Nope. The last blog post I have from the continuation high school is from August 2023. According to my year end stats, I only spent three days there last school year. Ouch. No wonder they barely remembered me.

(Not true. They remember me. The staff, anyway. The students were more like, "You subbed at [insert home school's name here]".)

I was in the English class. They were either working on their district essays (the district has them write essays every quarter to measure how well they can write) or reading (We Were the Lucky Ones) and answering questions. And, it went pretty much how I expect the classes to go. That is, many did little to nothing while a few got done what they needed to do.

Fifth period, as I was walking the room taking attendance, the students did their usual, "Don't you sub at...?" bit. 

Then one boy said I had been his math teacher last year. 

That's when I placed him. I mean, I recognize the kiddos when I see them as knowing I've seen them before, but where had I seen them? Yeah, it's not always there. But this boy? Yeah, I remembered him from last year's long term in Mr. J's math class.

And... I did not expect him to be there. There were a couple students who I would not be shocked to see there as they did little to nothing in class. This boy? As far as I recall, he was doing fine in math. He had a passing grade. He did the assignments. 

Deep sigh. At least he doesn't have to make up his math credits. Clearly, he did need English credits. 

But that's why the continuation high school exists. It's for students to come back from whatever setback led to the possibility of them not graduating. 

Familiar Faces

Friday. Seventh grade English.

I glanced at the class roster. Yup, I knew many of those names...

Fourth period. Out of a class of 22, 12 had been in the science class I had left just one week prior.

Immediately, Julian pounced. "Why did you give me a 13 on my lab safety poster?"

Julian is one of those overachiever-type kids. Good student. Anxious. 

I graded the posters by rubric, 20 points total. (So, 13 is 65%.) 

And... I don't really pay attention to names when I'm grading. And 175 students. Do I remember what each student got on the poster? Nope. I don't even remember what Julian's poster looked like.

I said something of the sort. I'm sure his grade is still just fine. (And I gave Mr. H carte blanche when it came to adjusting grades on the posters if he wished. That he didn't tells me he wasn't going to bother.) 

Once class got started, there was a dispute between two boys. Myles and Clayton (I'm talking about Clayton in #8 of this list). Clayton had stolen Myles' water bottle and drank from it. (Clayton said he pretended to drink from it.) Myles was upset as the bottle was now nearly empty when it hadn't been before.

Oh, Myles could not be consoled. Then he said that Clayton had put grass in the bottle. (As Clayton had never left the room, I wasn't sure how he accomplished this.) Myles dumped out the remaining water, and now he was upset that he had no water. I pointed out that the school had water fountains made to fill water bottles. But the school water was warm and didn't taste good. Myles had had "good" water that was cold.

Deep sigh.

It was one thing after another with Myles. His table mates were antagonizing him. He couldn't do something else. On and on and on. (He's that kid. So, none of this surprised me.)

Then, Corbin. "The teachers at this school all hate me."

I told him I was sure that wasn't true. 

"What? You hate me."

I denied this. Because, I don't hate him. He annoys me. But hate? Nope. 

It was a day of constant motion, keeping the kiddos contained. But many actually did the assignment. (They were completing a storyboard based on a story they read: "Thank You, M'am" by Langston Hughes.) Typical seventh grade stuff.

Noted Bravado

Thursday. Eighth grade English. Third period. 

Their final, the next week, was going to be on The Diary of Anne Frank. They had been given a study assignment on it (flash cards on the computer and a brief quiz) and they had an extra credit assignment with questions that went along with watching a video, After the Annex. 

Because eighth graders at the end of the school year, I was circulating to make sure things didn't get crazy. 

"You told Mr. C I was using ChatGPT."

It was Axel. He was not happy. 

So, yes, I absolutely included Axel's name and the incident I wrote about last week. And I said so.

Axel: "He lets me."

Me: Then it wasn't a big deal, was it? 

Because, seriously, when I mention something to a teacher that they do, in fact, allow, I may get a reply that it was fine. If I sub for them in the future, there may be a note in the lesson plan about how such-and-such is allowed. 

Axel: "It, uh, wasn't, but I didn't appreciate that you wrote about me in your note."

I pointed out that that incident was maybe two sentences in a note that spanned three pages. (I was in Mr. C's class for a week. Some things needed to be noted.)

Axel continued to make his displeasure known. Mr. C had gone through my note with the class. (Some teachers do this.) And he didn't like getting called out. 

I moved on. 

Ms. S, the English teacher, had said that they weren't allowed to use cell phones. I told them that they had plenty of work to do. But many still were trying to sneak their phones. They're not very good about being sneaky, but as it was individual work, I wasn't really policing them on it other than to sidle up to them and meaningfully look at their phones. They mostly got the hint.

I passed Axel on my classroom circuit. 

Axel: "I'm not on my phone." As he hid his phone in his pocket. The phone that he was clearly just on. "Please, don't report me."

I think Axel had more of a consequence for his ChatGPT usage than he cared to admit.

(I didn't report him. If I had, I would have made a list of all the students on their phones. I only call out individuals for notable occurrences, like loudly proclaiming that ChatGPT is how they're going to do their work.)

Make Ups

Remember Jordan?

Jordan is in Mr. J's second period sophomore math class. She pretty much took the month of February off. And much of March. And April. She merited a blog mention when she was surprised her grade had dropped because of a missing test (that I didn't just cancel for her). 

Since I last mentioned her, we had another test in the math class. That put her two tests behind. 

Just after we took the second test (with me), Jordan managed to come to class and... gasp... make up that first test. And she did pretty well on it. (She didn't get an A, but she didn't fail it, either.) 

Tuesday. Jordan showed up to class. And she asked if she could make up that second test.

Well, of course she could.

While I was teaching the last lesson in our current unit, Jordan finally got caught up on her missing test. 

At the end of the period, Jordan turned in her test. And then she asked me, "Will this be in the gradebook right away?"

Ahem. 

Before she left, I restated something just for her that I had told the whole class. Thursday we'd do a study guide for a test that would happen on the following Monday. (By the time you see this post, that test will have happened.) 

Will she show up on Monday and stay up-to-date? I'm doubtful. But we'll see. 

(If you ask me in the comments, I'll be able to tell you whether she was there or not.) 

Worrisome Information

I got my door lock fixed! Finally.

(ICYMI: The lock on the inside of my car, driver's side door, broke one day. It's been months, but I finally found someone to fix it. As it turns out, the school where I'm doing my long-term gig has an auto shop. They took a look at the lock, recommended the part they'd need to fix it, and I ordered it. When I picked it up, I fell. So, this has been an ongoing ordeal for me. But it's finally over.)

Wednesday. I dropped off my car at the side gate of the school (rather than parking my car in the parking lot), and I went about my day as normal. At the end of the day, Mr. A, the auto shop teacher, informed me that things weren't quite all good. It took him a bit to get my car door put back together.

My car is thirty-one years old. Students were working on the fix. While the lock mechanism was fine, my door lock is showing its age. And now I can again lock my door from the inside.

But that was not what was worrisome...

Thursday. Fifth period.

The students were entering the room. Adriel passed by me. 

"I put the lock in your car." 

I really, really hope my face went blank, because my mind was whirling. 

I mean, it's okay, right? I had driven my car home. I worked the lock. The lock worked. It was okay...

Just because Adriel doesn't do math doesn't mean he's a terrible auto shop student, right? Right?!?

(I checked. He has an A in auto shop.) 

I mean, I agreed to have the students work on my car. I trust that Mr. A didn't leave them in incapable hands. He supervised. 

It's okay. It's fine. 

(I've been driving my car for days since then. The lock works. It's fine. It's fine!)

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

Performance Review, Part 2

I have a terrible memory for students sometimes. But that's a good thing as if I don't remember being irked by them, then the next time I see them they have a brand new chance with me.

I've been covering Mr. J's classes for just over a month now. It was just this last week, on Thursday, that I realized that I had met Nadine in period five before.

And, the only reason it came up was because of a different student in a completely different period.

Ava's not been showing up to class, when she does she's late, and she hasn't been doing the work. Unsurprisingly, she's got an F in math. I went to look at her grades in her other classes, and I was not shocked to find that math is not the only class she's failing. 

That's when I noticed that Ava has Mr. M for history period six. 

And I vividly recall getting a dressing down the day that I covered Mr. M's sixth period class. 

Some more backtracking, and I found Nadine's name. And yup, Nadine's in Mr. J's fifth period. 

Until that moment, I hadn't connected Nadine to the incident. I mean, I remember the incident. I just didn't recall the student who had told me I was a terrible sub who didn't do her job and that she'd get her mother to complain if I wished to take things further.

Will I remember Nadine after this? Likely. 

But Nadine's been keeping a low profile in math class. (It helps that fifth period is co-taught. Having another teacher who's been around since the beginning of the year keeps most of the students honest.) 

Curious, I checked Nadine's grades. Yup, she has an F in math and in history, too.

Figures.

A part of me is curious as to whether Nadine thinks I'm doing my job now. But I'm not going to ask. I don't really want to know.

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

Rainy Day Rules

Thursday. Rain had been predicted for about a week, so it was no surprise when I woke up to lots of water falling out of the sky. I had booked the day in advance at the alternative education center (the school they send the kiddos to when they get kicked out of the other schools for reasons). 

Only four students showed up for school. (I think total enrollment currently is seven.) So, someone decided to modify the schedule. 

(For first period, the English teacher had no students present, so he offered to go out for cronuts.)

I had the math/science class. For first period, I had three of the four present students. So, rather than have one kiddo on his own in history, they sent him to me (for science). Then I kept all four students for second period (for math). And then I was done for the day. 

(The history teacher took the four for third and fourth periods. Then fifth and sixth they had counseling, but they figured rainy day, so they'd just watch a movie.) 

And here I was gearing up for trouble. 

But it ended up being a mellow couple of periods (and a quiet rest of the day). 

This was good, as I've had run-ins with these boys before. Remember Jensen? I last saw him at one of the traditional high schools right before winter break. (He was notable for being very late to class consistently and then not doing any work. He was in the English class I started the school year in.) I was not terribly surprised to see the district had changed his placement. 

And... Do you remember Austin? Chair-thrower Austin? (Check out the link for that story.) He's back...

(I should mention that the chair throwing incident is famous. Or infamous. I cannot tell you how often a student would walk up to me and reference the chair throwing incident last school year. It was a lot.)

The worst I can say about Jensen and Austin on this day? They did no work. (Jensen claimed he completed his online work, but I doubt it.) They entertained themselves by watching videos on the computer. 

I'll take it. 

Protecting my Cardi

Wednesday I was back at the continuation high school, this time for the English class. 

They were working on a poetry unit. (They were also doing a blackout poem, like the class I posted about yesterday. It's funny how certain things recur over different classes and even at different schools.) Most of them were working on a haiku. 

They were to paint a picture and then write out the haiku on it. Many of them were still working on the paintings. So, paints were out. And paint got everywhere...

It's been chilly here in SoCal. I've been getting some wear out of my sweaters. 

At first I was hesitant to wear my seven (and a half) year cardi. I've been paranoid. What if I snag it or something happens and I damage it? 

But, every time I've worn it, I get a little less worried. I don't generally damage my clothes. And it's nice to get some wear out of the cardi I worked on for so long.

I didn't know I'd be dodging paint, so I wore the cardi. 

I didn't think about it too much until I went to straighten up the paints, and I got white paint on my hand.

My hand. Just my hand. I kept well away from the paint after that. 

I shuddered in horror when a student found she had gotten paint splatter on her jacket. (She went to the restroom and tried to clean it off.) 

Somehow I lucked out. My cardi is intact. And paint-free.

Sixth period. This was the orientation group. The school gets a new batch of students about every month. The new students have a time where they all take the same classes to get used to the new school. 

There were a few familiar faces. 

One of them was Marta. 

I... uh... can't say I was surprised to see her there. Nope. Not surprised at all. 

Some Follow Ups 13

We are almost a month into the second semester, and I'm finding that I'm repeating myself. That's what happens when you sub at the same handful of schools on the regular. 

Lately, some things have come up that relate to incidents I have posted about in the past, but they're really not interesting enough to make their own blog posts. And then I remembered Thursday 13. I think I've collected enough of these to make a full 13. 

ONE

Last week I ended up in classes that I was pretty familiar with. On Monday, I was back in the classroom I spent November 2021-January 2022 in. Ms. S retired, that's why I took it over for a time. For this school year, they hired a new teacher to take the class.

Although, it wasn't the same class. Two of those students culminated. The remaining students are in other classes. 

But I did have two familiar faces. Jennifer and Jonas. 

As for the rest of the class, one of them had been a student in another class last year, one of them I remember from the feeder high school, and the other three were new to me. 

Since last year they have shuffled the aides. Vera is the one-to-one for a new student. One of the aides was new to the school this year. And the other three were aides in the other classes, but as everyone at the school works together a lot, I was familiar with them. 

It was a pretty nice day. (I don't really have any good stories to hang a full blog post on.) 

TWO

On Singles Awareness Day, I got to revisit the chemistry class I covered for three weeks at the beginning of the school year. Things were much like how they were in August. What I never mentioned in August was how many familiar faces were in the class. 

Jeremy is a tenth grader now. He's grown up a little. Alas, he spent so much of his time in class playing games on his computer. Sigh.

THREE

In the same period with Jeremy was Helen. She seemed so sweet in ninth grade. Well, initially. After having her in that vacant English class, I had her in the geography class I covered immediately after, and she was less sweet. This year? She sits in the back of the room and doesn't appear to do any work. Deep sigh.

FOUR

And also in that same period is Doris' sister. I've never mentioned her before because she has not done anything blog-worthy. She's quiet. She does her work. I wouldn't have even realized she was related to Doris if not for her fairly distinctive last name. (Yes, they are sisters. I looked it up.) 

FIVE

Speaking of siblings, back in January I covered one of the classes that feed the adult transition center. One of the students had a familiar last name. It was Pizza's brother. When at the adult transition center last week, I got to see Pizza and say hello. I told him I had met his brother. He wasn't sure what to make of that.

SIX

Remember Harmony and her threat? I do. So, two Mondays ago, I was pleasantly surprised when the aide in the special ed class I was covering was Ms. E. I let her know what Harmony had said. Ms. E was not shocked. She also said that Harmony is no longer in that program where they saw each other, so they likely won't run into each other again. (But I did want to mention it to her, just in case.) 

SEVEN

Two days later, I was back at the continuation high school in that social studies class. I was dreading another run in with Harmony. (I had had the class a couple weeks prior, so it wasn't the first time I'd seen her since the threat.) 

At the lunch break, I overheard the PE teacher discussing something with the principal. And a couple other teachers chimed in. Apparently, Harmony had shoved a girl during PE, and she had been suspended. So, I was not going to see her in sixth period. Yay! (When I said as much, the principal: "Even the subs know who she is.")

EIGHT

The social studies teacher I was covering, Mr. K, is someone I have covered many times in the past. The previous day, I had actually been in the classroom he had when I first covered his class. 

Mr. K transferred to the continuation high school from another school in the district. Actually six of the nine teachers currently there transferred from other schools in the district. (Yeah, I've been at this job too long.) 

NINE

Remember Austin the chair thrower? I mean, I wasn't positively sure it was Austin throwing the chairs, but he sure acted like it had been him. 

I didn't mention that I was back at the alternative education center in last week's posts because I had other things to post about. It was third period. I had two students. They were nominally on task as I could monitor as I sat next to them while they worked.

One of the boys brought up Austin. He had been in the class where the chair throwing occurred. The other boy hadn't. Boy 1 told boy 2 all about it. Boy 1 had seen Austin throw the chairs, so now I know. For certain. (Of course boy 1 never said anything before because they would never "snitch" on each other.) 

Anyway, the reason they can now talk all about it is because Austin is gone. He either ran away or he's in juvie. (Or he ran away and then ended up in juvie.) Rumors have been flying, but nothing's confirmed. 

It's a sad story, really. Austin needs help. But... 

TEN

I got to see Lou. I had a last period prep, so I got to go home early. As I walked off campus, Lou was sitting there. He said hello. (Or I wouldn't have seen him.) 

The way the block schedule works at that school, not everyone has a last period, so Lou was out of school validly. 

The next day I heard Lou call to me while I was heading towards the bathroom. I didn't get a chance to say hi, though. It was between periods, and he really needed to get back to class.

ELEVEN

Remember Austin who liked to take twenty minute restroom breaks? Apparently, the school has instituted a floaters list since I last had him in class. He was in the eighth period chemistry class. As expected, he requested a restroom pass. 

Floaters aren't trusted to leave class, so he had to be escorted. I called the office for his escort. (When I said I had to do this as I had been warned about this in the lesson plans, he acted like he had no idea what I was talking about.) Austin hovered about the door. It had only been a couple minutes, but he complained he "really had to go". Sure. Just as I called the office back (as he insisted I do), security arrived. (The lady in the office commented that he was a bit of a drama queen. Yup. Can confirm.)

TWELVE

I arrived at the high school for a day of AP geography and AP economics (read: an easy day). The secretary asked if I would cover an extra period (as per normal). Then she told me what class, and I remembered the last time I had covered that class.

And yet, this is the first time you're hearing about this. As luck would have it, not every terrible class is always terrible. They were actually pretty mellow on this day. Of course, they were allowed to have computers (they weren't the previous time). So, they played games and didn't attempt to entertain themselves in inappropriate ways. (And, of course, it's a new semester, so the health students are now in geography.) 

THIRTEEN

Standing outside the classroom during passing period, a student walked by, saw me, and said, "You wrote a bad note about me. My teacher called my mom, and she wasn't happy." 

Was I supposed to be sorry? I'm all for telling the mom all about it. 

Later, I realized it was fake Evan. Which begs the question: was he in trouble for being fake Evan or for playing around in choir? I assume it's the latter as he said nothing to me when he was in choir. But, I didn't write a note then. I just talked to his teacher.

Hence, my confusion. But he was long gone. *shrugs*

Reprieve

"Did you ever find out who was throwing the chairs?"

After the last time, you would think that I would avoid the alternative education center, right? Nope. I'm stupid that way. 

Someone said the above behind me as I was letting myself into the classroom at the start of first period. I did not see who asked it, but I suspect it was Austin. 

On this day I was covering the English class. (I covered this class before. A couple times. The current teacher of the class is Mr. B. Mrs. B was the teacher of the success seminar class that I covered for a month in October. Yes, they're married to each other.)

First and second periods went pretty smoothly. But I was dreading third as that's when Austin had the class. 

Before third period is snack. The students sit outside and eat. There are basketball hoops, so some will occupy themselves that way.

Some of them get into fights.

At the high school level, the kiddos mock fight all the time. They start slapping at each other, or they throw punches that look kind of real. We've learned to ignore that. 

So, when two boys started throwing punches, it was a couple seconds before anyone realized this was an actual fight. (The rest of the boys helpfully didn't start chanting, "Fight, fight!" which usually lets us know right away an actual fight is happening.) 

Security jumped right in. He pulled one boy away. Mr. T distracted the other boy, immediately taking him to the office. 

And that was about the time to start third period, so the other students got shooed into class.

I got class started and took roll. Guess who I did not have to deal with as he instigated the fight and was now in the office? Yup, I was spared another go-around with Austin. Yay!

The other boy returned to class about halfway through. 

The other students were happy Austin wasn't in class. He annoys them, too. 

They informed me that Austin hadn't been in school since I was last there. Apparently, he had been suspended. (I checked the online attendance. He had been suspended, and then he took about a week "off" as those days he was marked truant.) 

And it looks like he was suspended again. Although, as I'm not scheduled to be there, I won't know the difference.

I had reasonable classes the rest of the day, too. What a difference one student makes.

Five More Minutes

For my extra period assignment last Thursday, I ended up going back to the ceramics class. 

(We are far enough into the school year now that the sub shortage is being felt. Every day there are at least two teachers who aren't covered by their very own sub, so these classes are covered by other teachers who have conference periods. And by subs on the conference period of the teacher we're covering.)

Mr. P had an IEP meeting, so he hadn't quite left during the passing period. Lou walked in, saw that he was leaving, and protested. "We have a sub?!?"

Me: "Lou. It's me."

And suddenly it was okay. Lou came over and gave me a huge hug. Mr. P was amused by all of this.

I only once briefly mentioned Lou before, so allow me to explain. I met Lou that week in the ceramics class. Then Lou was in the success seminar. I did not realize his pronouns were he/him, so I misgendered him when I mentioned him previously (giving him the blog moniker of Louise). 

Some students actually like me. When they give me a chance, they realize I'm there to help them, and I only give battle when they fight me. 

Mr. P went to his meeting. Class started. As it was ceramics, the students had things to work on. Lou had a chance to question me.

I hadn't seen him since I left the success seminar class, but I had seen some of his classmates. He asked where I had been. I told him I'd been around.

People are surprised to learn that I work every day. They may not see me for days or weeks, and they don't get that I'm just elsewhere in the district. 

Mr. P's meeting didn't go the whole period. He was back in a little over a half hour. So I packed up to go...

"No. Ms. A. You can't leave yet. You have to stay."

Technically, I was contracted for the full period, so I could stay. But teachers don't really need a sub hanging out. 

"Mr. P, can't she stay for five more minutes..."

Mr. P said I could. I agreed.

And Lou timed me. Did he talk to me for five minutes? No. He was working on the day's project (they were practicing making coils). But when I thought he wasn't paying attention and made a move to go, he told me time wasn't up yet. 

I stayed until he said I could go.

Will I see Lou again? So far, I don't have any other of his classes booked, but I'm only booked up through November. I do get around.

The Mommy Option

(This is a continuation from yesterday's post.)

Mrs. D got back to me right away (relatively). India is 12 and a half hours ahead of us in California, so her email reply sent at 10 PM my time is quick. 

Mrs. D's suggestion: email Colton's mother.

Okay, then.

I took some time composing the email. Mrs. D suggested forwarding what I had sent to her, but I thought it would be better to just state the facts for Colton's mom. Where I told Mrs. D I didn't know what to do, I asked Colton's mom if she could assist me. 

I sent off the email at 11:13 AM. I got a response at 11:35 AM. 

Colton's mom? Not happy at all.

She forwarded the email to Colton's football coach and also the school's athletic director (who is also a teacher who I have subbed for a few times in the past). The game they had that night Colton would not be playing in. 

The email was sent during fourth period. At the passing into sixth period, Colton appeared at my door. He needed to speak to me. 

"Did you email my mom?"

He prefaced his discussion with, "You're just mad I outsmarted you," and then insisted that my yelling at him was the worse offense. He insisted I needed to tell his mom that I yelled. I figured it was implied, and he was welcome to share his side of the sandwich incident with his mother. 

Sixth period had started, so we eventually ended the conversation, Colton not getting what he wanted. 

I let his mother know he had been by to discuss the situation with me and he'd be telling her his side. Her reply: "Fine. He doesn't get to play in next week's game, either."

So, it was with some trepidation that I went into Friday. But I didn't have to see Colton until fifth period, and Colton's mom had given me her phone number, so if things got ugly, I'd call her with Colton there. 

And then Colton was waiting for me before third period... 

...to apologize. 

Colton had talked to his mother and gotten an "attitude adjustment". He now realized that the consequence he received was due to his actions. He had been hangry (which, considering how long it is from snack to lunch, I completely understand), and he had been out of line.

I appreciated how he came to me not on class time, and he seemed sincerely sorry. 

And so, it's over. 

Colton behaved... well, he's still Colton. But he wasn't directly challenging me on anything during class time, so we're cool. 

Perhaps he'll learn not to react when he first gets bad news. (He must have just heard about the email right when he came to see me the first time.) 

And I need to remember the mommy option when things go sideways with a student. 

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.

Repetition

So, um, we did it. Natalie has now learned how to log in to her computer. 

I started this story three weeks ago. I decided to teach Natalie how to type out her username. I recited it to her, and she typed. She had the whole thing memorized in a day.

If I stood over her while she typed it, it would work. But I would hear her sometimes recite her username when I wasn't standing over her. It wouldn't be long before she would come up to the teacher's desk to request, "Help, please". 

(One of the things we work on with the students is for them to request help when they need it. They don't always.) 

I tried to get her to not log out as often as she does. (She isn't good at exiting things, but she knows how to restart the computer. And this leads to having to log in again. A lot.) 

Because I stood over her while she was logging in so much, I spied the big problem she was having. She always hesitated over the period key. 

So, the week before spring break, I asked Natalie if I could put a sticker on the period key so she could locate it. She agreed. 

And after that, she hasn't called me to help her log in. 

Did she suddenly stop logging out? Nope. I hear her reciting her username periodically. 

But now, I see that it actually works for her.

Stubborn Natalie can learn something through repetition. Now, if I could only leverage that to teach her something useful. Because stubborn, she will fight me on doing anything she doesn't want to do.

Repeating the Lesson

There are some things that happen in a day that make it into my note, and then I don't think of them again. 

A couple weeks ago, I covered a middle school beginning band class. They were doing sectionals.

The class didn't make the blog. They were loud, but that's to be expected of kiddos playing musical instruments. There was no story there. 

At clean up time, several of them did not clean out their horns. I did years in school bands (oboe), so I know the importance of instrument maintenance. 

When one blows into a wind instrument, spit happens. Brass instruments have "spit valves". In woodwinds, liquids can accumulate, so we learn early to wipe them out after each use. It doesn't take long, and it prevents bigger problems down the road. 

I asked why they weren't cleaning out their horns. They said they don't. 

via GIPHY

I made a note of this in the note to their teacher. And I promptly forgot about it. 

Thursday. Seventh grade science. Fourth period. 

"You snitched on us." 

I was innocently walking the room when Quinn made this pronouncement. I needed more information. He said I had told his teacher that the class didn't clean out their instruments. Then I remembered. 

Apparently, their teacher had talked to them about this. As she probably needed to (hence why I left it in the note). It didn't sound like they got into any trouble, so I'm not sure why the upset. 

I mean, I did explain how not cleaning out one's horn after practice was a bad habit to get into. But I know students tend not to pay attention to things subs say. They didn't seem to believe me. Perhaps hearing it repeated by their teacher may have helped to drive the lesson home.

Probably not, though. I mean, Quinn was upset enough to call me out on it the next time he saw me.

I Remember You

Biology. They had an assignment on genetic drift--a video and then a virtual lab. 

Now that I have videos working, I showed the video. I explained the assignment. I released them to work. 

In the chat, a student wrote: 

Wait a second I remember you-

I get this a lot. I replied with something noncommittal. If the student pursues the question, we can chase down where they remember me from. But virtually they haven't really been all that interested.

However, this girl then gave me more information: 

I'm the kid who screamed its Wednesday my dudes and you didn't like me after that

Ah. Yes, I remember that she thinks I hate her. And since there's nothing I can do to disabuse her of this notion, I let it go. 

The next time I see her, she'll have to remind me that I hate her and why. I guess this is a game we'll play until she graduates or grows out of this notion. It'll be interesting to see which it is.