Not How That Was Supposed to Go

The class is success seminar. It's basically a class for social-emotional learning. In theory, it's a great idea. Pretty much the entire campus could benefit from some of the lessons.

However, the students who were put in the class are the ones who are falling a bit behind and whose grades could use improvement. 

The lesson of the day was how to make a good first impression. 

I had a slideshow. They had a worksheet to fill out as we went through the slides. I pointed out what needed to be filled out when we reached the points in the lesson where they had to take something down. 

And still, for the most part they weren't paying attention. There was a five minute video. Before the video, I told them that they were to answer a question on their page. I showed them where on the page the question was. Then I played the video.

After the video, I told them to answer the question. "What question?" I pointed it out. "Where's the video?" You mean, the video I just played for you? On the big screen? That you all ignored? 

*facepalm*

So, when we got to the activity, I was not holding out much hope.

They were to do a "speed dating" thing where they would greet a fellow student and make a "first impression". The partners would critique each other, writing this down, and then we'd repeat. They were to have three different partners. 

So, I explained what they were to do. I pointed out what they'd fill out on their papers. I went around the room and assigned students to "rotate" and students who would be "bases". I asked them if they had questions. And then we got started...

My students AFTER I provide CLEAR, PRECISE directions...😜😔pic.twitter.com/B6BMTyheXC

— Fixing Education (@FixingEducation) September 2, 2022

Yeah, it was a train wreck. (I hope that video works. If it does, those kiddos were way more on target than my kiddos were.) Maybe a few students had understood my instructions. The rest had been talking over me as I explained. So, when it came time to do the thing, they didn't know what thing to do.

I learned an important lesson. Skip the activities. I mean, I knew it would go badly. I didn't realize how badly it was going to go. 

At least, I shouldn't attempt such things until I've gotten them to listen to me and take me seriously. So, yeah, skip the activities. 

How to Make a Bad Impression

Since it's summer, I have no new subbing stories. So, time for the wayback files for #ThrowbackThursday. This one was originally posted on November 21, 2012. I have no memory of this kid or this class, just in case you were wondering how much these incidents bother me.

We had been in class for maybe 10 minutes and I was done with Kenneth. Already, he had been out of his seat and roaming the room three times. He interrupted other students who were answering my questions. And he was twisted around in his seat so he could bother the student behind him.

When Kenneth let it be known (loudly) that I was boring him ("Can I just start now?") I knew it was time for him to go.

(To be fair here, we were reviewing literary terms such as plot, climax, resolution, character, and point of view. They'd gone over these terms before. They made flash cards. But the lesson plan said to review the terms again so they'd be ready for a test on Friday, and they were 8th graders which means that they won't really study on their own.)

"Take your work. Go next door." I even pointed in the direction I wanted him to go.

"Outside?"

"Next door."

45 minutes later, I got a phone call from another sub. Kenneth had just arrived. Also, he slammed into a desk, laughed, and disrupted that class.

Two thoughts occurred:

1. Why was I directed to send students out to a class with a sub?
2. Where had Kenneth been for 45 minutes?  

Not five minutes later Kenneth returned to retrieve his stuff. I asked him where he had been all period.  

"Outside. There is no next door."  

The room we were in was at the end of a building. There was no next door on one side. But on the other, the way I pointed...  

(By the way, I later figured out that the room I sent Kenneth to and the one he went to were not the same. He disrupted the class at the other end of the hall.)  

At this point I tried to collect his assignment (the thing he was supposed to be doing in the other classroom), but he wouldn't give it to me. Because, of course, he had not done it.  

Kenneth was pleased with himself. I could tell. He had put one over on the sub.  

Of course, Kenneth doesn't know me very well. Because as he was playing this game, I was mentally composing my note. (I debated whether or not a referral would have been better, but I figured he would just toss it and go to lunch as lunch was five minutes away.)  

I spent half of the next class period writing all of this down. I got the impression that this teacher is of the strict variety. Yeah, I wouldn't want to be in Kenneth's shoes that next day.  

Red Ink

It was the first full week of school. I am covering a "vacant class" until they are able to bring in a teacher for the rest of the year. I have three periods of seventh grade English and two periods of eighth grade English.

Because of this, I got to do something I've never gotten to do before. I got to go over the syllabus with the students.

The next day, the eighth graders had a writing assignment. (The seventh graders did too, but they are way more cooperative than the eighth graders. Good for me, bad for the blog.) They were to write a letter of introduction. It's their first writing assignment of the year.

Every day I've tried to have a list of what they'll need for the day written on the board for them. (Some days I'm able to, others not so much.) On this day I had that list up. They needed a piece of paper and a pen or pencil.

I explained the assignment. They got to writing.

Only about half way through the period, one boy said he was finished. That's when I noticed he had written his letter in red ink.

The previous day, while going through the syllabus, I made sure to spend some time explaining how if they were going to use ink, it had to be black or dark blue ink only.

The boy, who has already distinguished himself as one of the challenging students in a difficult class, explained that I did not specify the pen couldn't be red.

Um, I thought that was implied. It was in the syllabus. I spent a couple minutes going over their supply list.

At this point, the girl seated next to him (also trouble, but for different reasons) got on his case. Why would he have a red pen anyway? She said she was going to start calling him Red Ink from now on.

As he still had half the period, I told him he could recopy the letter in the proper color of ink. He did, but not until he had grumbled about it.

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. 

300 Words

I was covering for a special ed. teacher, co-teaching several periods. 4th period I was in an 8th grade English class. The regular ed. teacher was there, and she ran the lesson as normal.

One of the things they're really stressing now is reading articles deeply and analyzing them. They had read an article on a previous day about violence in movies, and this day they were to answer some deeper level thinking questions about it.

The teacher had a whole slew of instructions. She had written them out on the board, and she spent a good ten minutes going over what she expected. There were five questions and then there was a focus question that she wanted answered in a specific format using at least 300 words.

She released them to their work, and I roamed the classroom, looking for those that needed my help. (As there was a co-teacher in there, it meant that a good portion of them were special ed. and would need a little extra assistance.) Things were going pretty smoothly.

Then I spotted a boy trying to solve his Rubik's cube. (These things are popular right now. Again.) Um, no. He had questions to answer. I glanced at his paper. His focus question had three lines of writing. That's nowhere near 300 words.

I told him to put the puzzle away. He did. He then got out his reading book...

Um, no. No, he wasn't done. I pointed out that the focus question wasn't complete. He didn't believe me.

I walked up to the board. I pointed to the words "300 words" written there. I pointed out all the myriad instructions.

"Oh, I have to do all that..."

He was not pleased.

Seriously, they just don't listen. And not just not to me.

Can't Follow Directions

Freshman English. It was an honors class (read: advanced). The teacher left them an article to read and annotate. There were questions to go along with it. Standard fare, really.

In the lesson plan, though, the teacher made an interesting note. She said that the kiddos were having trouble following directions, thereby making more work for her. So, she had typed out the instructions for the class, copied it, and I was to distribute these copies to each student.

Okay, easy enough.

Fifth period. I passed out the articles. I explained what they had to do. I passed out the instructions. And still...

"Wait, are we allowed to write on these?"

"Why do I have extra paper?"

"When is this due?"

They did eventually get to work. No behavior issues. They worked quietly. And then at the end of the period, I called for their work.

The instructions clearly stated that they were to staple their questions on top of their articles. Yet, half the papers turned in had them stapled the other way around.

*shakes head*

Lest you think I'm being nit-picky, just keep in mind that that was not the only thing they missed in the instructions. That were printed out for them. And that I went over. (And they were listening. The room was quiet while I explained things.)

Please don't tell me the now-freshmen are going to be like this their entire high school careers. (Don't tell me, but I have a feeling this might be a quirk of their class.) 

Oblivious

Math class at the continuation high school. They all work at their own pace on a program that takes them through whichever course they're on (algebra or business math).

It's generally an easy day. Most of them can work on their own, going through the examples from the program. Occasionally someone will need a bit more help (which gives me something to do).

They are not to be surfing the internet. (He does allow them to listen to music, so most of them had a music site going in the background with their earbuds in.) And when someone would stray, I would stand over them, and that was generally enough to get them back on task.

7th period. I noticed one boy was on something that was definitely not math related. So, I approached.

Once I stood behind him, I saw that he was playing a boxing game. I said something about that not looking like the math assignment. No response.

He was sitting at the corner computer. I was directly behind him. And he had earbuds in. The way that station was situated, I couldn't get into a position where he could see me from where he sat. (Although, I would think that my presence right behind him would have been noticed.) So I tried again.

The girl sitting next to him tried to alert him to my presence. She tapped him on the shoulder. When he ignored that, she tried more emphatic means of getting his attention. Which he also ignored.

I waved a hand in front of his face. This he ignored, too.

Finally, he realized that I was behind him, and he took an earbud out. I told him to get back to the math. He attempted the stalling tactic. "Can't I just finish this game?"

Since he made some pretense of getting to work (he did turn off the game), I was going to let this slide. (The teacher is very strict.) But then at the end of the period, he really ticked me off.

I have this thing about students writing on the board. The boy pulled out the dry erase marker. I told him not to. But those earbuds were in again. And he completely ignored me (or didn't hear me, but I think the earbuds were an excuse) and wrote on the board anyway.

Another student (on the way out the door) said that I was going to "give" them a bad note. Nope. Just the ones who were clearly not getting anything done.

Also, I'm at Unicorn Bell all this week. I'd love it if you'd stop by and say "hi".

Negotiation

This week for #ThrowbackThursday is a reminder why I do not like to cover opportunity classes. These are the classes that students end up in due to behavior issues (and it doesn't help that they need to make up credits). This post originally appeared on July 21, 2010.

Yesterday's two students today grew to five. Only Santiago returned. Carlos was mysteriously absent. And the dynamics of the room completely changed.

To start off the day, I had three students who refused to do any work. They sat and talked. (At least they weren't doing anything worse.) Eventually, they got the first assignment packet done (I warned them that it would be done or they would be working outside until it was done). Then, since it was the first day for two of them, I asked them to copy the class rules and daily schedule.

They didn't have to think. They didn't have to answer questions. All they had to do was to copy already written out stuff onto a sheet of paper. It should have taken them five minutes tops. But they were having none of it.

Diego wanted to look something up on the Internet. Either Santiago or the other boy told Diego of this video or something. Diego wanted to see it. So, he set up a computer.

The computer had been disconnected for the summer. I didn't touch it. Diego spent a good 20 minutes finding the right wires, connecting things, and turning the computer on. It took a while for it to boot up. But then he needed a password to log on, and that's where I had him.

Diego asked me to log on to the computer. I told him I would as soon as he finished copying the classroom rules and daily schedule.

Oh, the whining. He begged and pleaded for me to log on. I repeated what I wanted. He sat and complained. So, instead of taking the five minutes to do as I asked, he spent a half hour trying to wear me down and get what he wanted.

Finally, he figured that he was getting nowhere with me, and he was ready to copy the classroom rules. But they were written in cursive, and he couldn't read cursive (oh, the horror!). I told him that one of his friends could read the rules to him so that he could write them down. Somehow, they managed to waste more time on that.

Then, Santiago offered to let Diego copy his copy (he printed). Diego was done in moments. Then he asked me to log on to the computer again. I reminded him that he still had one more thing to copy--the daily schedule. He wailed. I hadn't told him that!

I knew he was going to do that. I had been careful to say, "copy the class rules and daily schedule," every time I said it for just that reason. He only battled me for a couple minutes before he finally relented and copied the daily schedule.

True to my word, I logged on for him (after I checked to make sure that the copies were done). Unfortunately, he was unable to find the thing he was looking for.

All that drama for Internet access, and he couldn't even find whatever it was that the boys told him about. I think I enjoyed that failure a little too much.

I did see Diego after this in non-opportunity classes. He actually matured a bit and was less of an issue in a regular classroom.

Missing the Point

It was Friday at the continuation high school. They had the usual assignment--finish any unfinished work from the week. Ms. M. gave me a list of students who had work to complete. They had been reading The Crucible, and they had a packet of questions that were due.

I read the list of non-turned-in-ers to period one.

"Oh no! I turned it in!"

It took only a cursory glance through his folder for Michael to locate the packet. He immediately turned it in. A bit later, I got to glance over his assignment.

Directions: Write in complete sentences that reflect the questions.
2. What is the setting of The Crucible?
     Salem, MA in 1692
3. Why does Parris question his niece about her job with the Proctors?
     Parris wants to know why his niece was fred*.

The teacher had written "correct and return" in red at the top of the paper. She also circled "complete sentences" and "reflect the questions". So, while his answers were technically correct, they weren't put into the correct format.

Once I saw the problem, I pointed it out. "You might want to fix this."

"I don't need to."

He seemed to think Ms. M. would accept the assignment as is. After she returned it to him, telling him to fix it.

Um, okay...

*Note: "fred" is copied directly from Michael's paper. I looked for an "i" somewhere in there, but no. I'm pretty sure he meant fired, though.

How to Make a Bad Impression

We had been in class for maybe 10 minutes and I was done with Kenneth. Already, he had been out of his seat and roaming the room three times. He interrupted other students who were answering my questions. And he was twisted around in his seat so he could bother the student behind him.

When Kenneth let it be known (loudly) that I was boring him ("Can I just start now?") I knew it was time for him to go.

(To be fair here, we were reviewing literary terms such as plot, climax, resolution, character, and point of view. They'd gone over these terms before. They made flash cards. But the lesson plan said to review the terms again so they'd be ready for a test on Friday, and they were 8th graders which means that they won't really study on their own.)

"Take your work. Go next door." I even pointed in the direction I wanted him to go.

"Outside?"

"Next door."

45 minutes later, I got a phone call from another sub. Kenneth had just arrived. Also, he slammed into a desk, laughed, and disrupted that class.

Two thoughts occurred:

1. Why was I directed to send students out to a class with a sub?
2. Where had Kenneth been for 45 minutes?  

Not five minutes later Kenneth returned to retrieve his stuff. I asked him where he had been all period.  

"Outside. There is no next door."  

The room we were in was at the end of a building. There was no next door on one side. But on the other, the way I pointed...  

(By the way, I later figured out that the room I sent Kenneth to and the one he went to were not the same. He disrupted the class at the other end of the hall.)  

At this point I tried to collect his assignment (the thing he was supposed to be doing in the other classroom), but he wouldn't give it to me. Because, of course, he had not done it.  

Kenneth was pleased with himself. I could tell. He had put one over on the sub.  

Of course, Kenneth doesn't know me very well. Because as he was playing this game, I was mentally composing my note. (I debated whether or not a referral would have been better, but I figured he would just toss it and go to lunch as lunch was five minutes away.)  

I spent half of the next class period writing all of this down. I got the impression that this teacher is of the strict variety. Yeah, I wouldn't want to be in Kenneth's shoes that next day.  

Oblivious

5th period geography. 9th graders.

First, I collected their warm ups from the week. (Many teachers assign a quick question or two for the students to answer while they take roll and get things started. They collect this once a week just to make sure the students actually do it.)

For some reason, collecting work is always a huge production. I announce it. I wait. Many pull out the paper immediately and pass it forward, but there are a few that take their time, can't find it, and hold up the whole process. I will announce, "Make sure your name is on your paper," but I still get nameless pages.

Somehow, we managed to get this done. I paper-clipped these papers together, put them aside, and then I called for their map packets. Same procedure.

I had about 3/4ths of the papers in my hands. A few papers were still making their way to the front. Discussions ensued, because their instruction was to remove the first page, make sure their name was on the second, and then pass these up. Most did this without incident, but a few hadn't been paying attention.

So, we're in the midst of all this when a voice from the back of the room announces:

"Do we have to turn anything in today?"

[Insert sarcastic comment here.]

Although, I didn't. Make a sarcastic comment, that is. I didn't have to. The rest of the class took care of it for me.

I stood there and listened. They pretty much nailed it. And said it better than I would have.

Blue is a Color

In 8th grade, the students take physical science. It's the end of the year, so it's time for the astronomy unit. The classes had questions dealing with the solar system.

As I made a circuit of the room, I noticed that one boy hadn't started working on his questions. At least he had his science notebook out, but it was open to a page with diagrams of atoms. I stood over him and I told him to get started. He needed to get out of the chemistry section and get to a page where he could do the assignment.

"This is my science notebook."

I told him I knew that. I needed him to open to a page in the astronomy section.

Again, he informed me that he had his science notebook. We did our "Who's on First" a couple more times before I realized what the problem was. His tablemates realized it at about the same time I did. First I had to shush them, as they weren't explaining things any better than I was. I searched for a way to explain.

"You are saying 'color' while I am saying 'blue'."

Finally, I got through to him. At my insistence, he flipped through his notebook and he found a different page. I stood over him to make sure he started writing something, and then I moved on to students who had questions about the assignment. (Questions that involved gravity. Cool!)

Later, I walked past his desk again. His notebook was still open...to the page with the atom diagrams. Sigh.

The Wrong Bell

Friday was a bit on the crazy side. I went into the school expecting that. It was International Day and the day before spring break.

Normally International Day would have been last week, but the weather forecast said rain, so they postponed it. This meant that we weren't on a minimum day schedule, so the normal day schedule had to be tweaked. Everything was normal for my group until 4th period (well, except for the fire drill, but that's another story).

The school was divided into two groups. The first group was outside for 3rd and 4th periods. Then they had to be in class for 5th and 6th. The second group reversed this. My group was in class 3rd and 4th, and then they got to be outside 5th and 6th.

Our fourth period was scheduled to be 20 minutes longer. The teacher had left them an assignment, but most of them weren't bothering with it. (It isn't due until they get back from spring break anyway.) Half the class was out working the booths, so those in class got into groups with their friends and talked.

If I had a full class and it hadn't been International Day, I would have been upset. As it was, I was happy that they were seated and mellow. They weren't even talking all that loudly. I considered this a win and let them be.

Then the bell rang. This wasn't their bell. I informed the class that they still had 20 minutes left of class, and they didn't question me on it. (There are two lunch periods, so they're used to having bells that they're supposed to ignore.) Then the door opened, and I heard that others had not gotten the same memo. Some of the teachers of the second group had dismissed their students.

The girl who opened the door wanted to come in. This was her 5th period class. I told her to go back to her 4th period.

After she left, some joker in the back commented: "Way to be strict!"

I think he was joking. He had to be joking. I was so not being strict.

There were two more bells they had to ignore before they got dismissed. I was so glad I didn't have to do this with middle schoolers. Middle schoolers would never have cooperated with me like that.

Keeping Track of the Readers

I finally knew about an assignment in advance.  7th grade core (that's the same group for two periods--one period of English and one period of world history).  I've subbed for this teacher before, so I knew what to expect--squirrelly, squirmy kids.  I was kind of dreading it. 

However, my phone rang this morning.  The sub caller wanted to switch me to the continuation high school (naturally).  I was saved!

The assignment for the world geography classes was to read a section out of the textbook together.  I was also instructed to take down names of readers as they got credit for reading aloud in class.   It was a pretty standard assignment, and things went smoothly. 

This made me think of another day when I had a similar assignment.  It was a home ec. class.  We were supposed to read out of the book, and students who read got credit for reading.  I took down the names of readers as instructed. 

I ran into the teacher a couple days after this.  What surprised me was how grateful she was that I took down the names of readers.  I was just following the lesson plan.  It made me wonder.  Were there other subs out there who didn't take down reader names?  Why would they not follow the lesson plan? 

What surprises me the most today is how many of the students' names I do know.  (If I'm not sure, I ask.) 

It's been a rather uneventful day so far.  That's good.  Although, I hear the next group is supposed to be the worst group. 

The Worksheet Problem

Today I had a 7th grade math class (pre-algebra).  After they did their warm-up and we had some time to discuss their homework (fractions), they had a review worksheet to complete.

Before I passed out the worksheet, I did my usual announcement to the class: "Do not write on this worksheet.  This is a class set.  Do your work on a separate sheet of paper..."  I reiterate this a couple times, just to make sure that they heard me.

So, of course half the class starts writing on the worksheet.

It's like they didn't hear me.  They look at me like it's my fault that they weren't paying attention.  (These are the same kids who are surprised that there's a sub in the room even though the teacher told them that she was going to be out.)

Of course, it doesn't help that they had an assembly this morning.  They were wound up all day.

Folding Paper

On both Tuesday and Wednesday, after Santiago finished his work, he would go and get paper.  He then constructed some flower from it.  It wasn't until yesterday that I had the light bulb flash.  Santiago might like another challenge.  (I looked online for what this flower looks like, but I've had no luck.)

Several years ago, I covered a 7th grade English/world history core class.  (I mentioned them here.)  They had a unit on Japan, and one of their assignments was to fold an origami crane.  Unfortunately, the instructions were less than helpful, and I was unable to decode them.  Since I returned to that class again and again, I looked to the Internet for help.

I easily found this instruction sheet.  I printed out a copy and tried it.  After that, I saw how hard the instructions the class had were to follow, so I let various students look at my printout.  They easily made the crane from those.

I held onto my printout.  I put it in the folder I keep for emergency fill in activities.  I easily laid my hands on it yesterday.  I was going to give it to Santiago.

The instructional assistant (IA) made copies so that my copy wouldn't get lost.  And then Santiago angered the IA, so she didn't give him the sheet.  (As I feel it my duty to back up the IA in such circumstances, I didn't give it to him either.)

Today was a different day, and when Santiago finished his first morning assignments (with minimum fuss), I gave him the crane instructions.  He was ready to learn a new paper folding trick.

Two other students in the class were interested as well, so I gave them each a copy.

The instructions are very detailed.  They were also a little over the heads of the students.  They needed help.

I'm not sure if they had trouble with all the words, or if they just didn't have the patience to sit and read.  I had to translate everything.  So, I showed them the next step, and then I walked away.  Santiago made a mess of his first attempt, but he made like three or four today, and the last one looked pretty good.  Diego 2 (there are actually two Diegos in the class), made five or six.  Diego 1 (the boy mentioned yesterday) couldn't get through a second attempt.

After this I insisted that certain assignments get completed.  And things went downhill from there.  The less said about the rest of the day, the better.

Negotiation

Yesterday's two students today grew to five.  Only Santiago returned.  Carlos was mysteriously absent.  And the dynamics of the room completely changed.  

To start off the day, I had three students who refused to do any work.  They sat and talked.  (At least they weren't doing anything worse.)  Eventually, they got the first assignment packet done (I warned them that it would be done or they would be working outside until it was done).  Then, since it was the first day for two of them, I asked them to copy the class rules and daily schedule.  

They didn't have to think.  They didn't have to answer questions.  All they had to do was to copy already written out stuff onto a sheet of paper.  It should have taken them five minutes tops.  But they were having none of it.  

Diego wanted to look something up on the Internet.  Either Santiago or the other boy told Diego of this video or something.  Diego wanted to see it.  So, he set up a computer.  

The computer had been disconnected for the summer.  I didn't touch it.  Diego spent a good 20 minutes finding the right wires, connecting things, and turning the computer on.  It took a while for it to boot up.  But then he needed a password to log on, and that's where I had him.  

Diego asked me to log on to the computer.  I told him I would as soon as he finished copying the classroom rules and daily schedule.  

Oh, the whining.  He begged and pleaded for me to log on.  I repeated what I wanted.  He sat and complained.  So, instead of taking the five minutes to do as I asked, he spent a half hour trying to wear me down and get what he wanted.  

Finally, he figured that he was getting nowhere with me, and he was ready to copy the classroom rules.  But they were written in cursive, and he couldn't read cursive (oh, the horror!).  I told him that one of his friends could read the rules to him so that he could write them down.  Somehow, they managed to waste more time on that.  

Then, Santiago offered to let Diego copy his copy (he printed).  Diego was done in moments.  Then he asked me to log on to the computer again.  I reminded him that he still had one more thing to copy--the daily schedule.  He wailed.  I hadn't told him that!  

I knew he was going to do that.  I had been careful to say, "copy the class rules and daily schedule," every time I said it for just that reason.  He only battled me for a couple minutes before he finally relented and copied the daily schedule.  

True to my word, I logged on for him (after I checked to make sure that the copies were done).  Unfortunately, he was unable to find the thing he was looking for.  

All that drama for Internet access, and he couldn't even find whatever it was that the boys told him about.  I think I enjoyed that failure a little too much.  

Best Laid Plans...

Today I was in to cover an 8th grade English class.  The 8th graders had their promotion today.

First, some background:

Layer one: the school was on block schedule for finals.  They had periods 1, 3, & 5 yesterday.  Today was periods 2, 4, & 6 for two hours each.

Layer two: the 8th graders did their finals already.  They had to know if they could participate in the promotion before today.

Layer three: 8th graders who didn't promote had to go to class.

I knew all this going in.  So, I was not surprised to find a lesson plan consisting of showing movies.  I was also not surprised to have very small classes.  The 8th graders who did promote got "signed out" of school by their parents after the ceremony.  (Read: I got stuck with the students who did not pass the 8th grade.)

The promotion ceremony took place during the first block (2nd period).  Someone had gone to the trouble of coming up with a supervision plan.  Half the 8th grade teachers were at the promotion while the other half remained in their classes to watch the 8th graders who were not promoting.  Those teachers at the promotion were assigned buddy teachers to send their non-promoting kids to.

It was a good plan.  Unfortunately, somebody forgot about the sub.

Right before the period started Ms. M. showed up.  She was told that she was supposed to watch the kids in the English class.  I was there, so she went back to her classroom.  (Oh, by the way, all the kids in the 2nd period English class promoted.  That was the advanced English class.)

I was supposed to get 11 students from Ms. R's class.  There was a note on Ms. R's door stating which students went where.  (Four of her students were supposed to go to Ms. M's class.)  But this confused them (clearly demonstrating why they weren't promoting).

Four students showed up to my class.  Only two of them were on my list.  The other two said that Ms. M. had something like seven students in her class.

It always amazes me how these things get so messed up.  No matter how well planned, once students are introduced, something always goes wrong.

As for me, I roll with it.  I took who came.  I kept a list of who I had in class.  And I showed the movie.

The Final Project

Today the final project was due in the two periods of economics that the student teacher runs.  It was a video assignment.  The kiddos had a topic that they had to explore through interviews and other visual media.  They had to edit it and have it ready to go today.

They have had six weeks to complete the thing.

We only got to see a few of the projects today.  A couple were pretty good.  One was awful--they hadn't finished (or even started by the looks of it) editing it down to a workable version.  And a few of them hadn't finished.

Their teacher had told them that if they don't get it in today, they get a zero.  In some cases, that zero could keep them from graduating next week.  But they knew that today was the deadline for a while.  Their teacher had even reminded them of this several times last week.

Their teacher told them that they had until the end of the day.  But after his last group of seniors, he's out of the room.  He told them to bring their projects to the activities office.  He repeated this a couple times.

That's why I was surprised when a group came in looking for the student teacher.  Apparently, they had not heard him say where he would be.  Then another group came in.  And another.  One group came in and then returned later, expecting the student teacher to have come back.  I think I snapped at them.

I wonder about them.  They're graduating next week, and they're still not following directions.

(Whoa, just had an earthquake while I was writing this.  Well, at least I wasn't in the shower again.)