Under the Printer

It was the Thursday before spring break. On Wednesday, a kiddo delivered a couple paper Easter eggs with a note. Later, I saw an email which said the same thing. The student leadership had come up with a school-wide game. My job: hide the Easter eggs in the classroom. 

Okay, then. 

They looked like this:

On the back were the instructions. The finder could take the egg to the ASB office and exchange it for candy. 

I pondered where to hide them. It had to be someplace the students would be. I didn't want to make it impossible, but I didn't want to make it too easy. So, I hid this one behind that poster on the wall: 

And I put the second one on the other side of the room, under the printer:

For context:

(If you'd like more context, if you look at the classroom pic at the top of this post, the heart egg is on the left side, just beyond the picture, and this printer is on the right.) 

I had eleventh graders in third period, the period of the game. I wondered if they'd care. 

When, in the morning announcements, they talked about the game, I interjected that the eggs were hidden in the classroom. 

Nadine piped up. "I know where one of them is."

Me: "Go ahead and claim it." 

She jumped up and retrieved it. 

Then she looked around for the second one. I did not look in its direction. She did not see it. But Madden did. Again, I gave him permission to retrieve it. 

He got up, retrieved it, and headed back to his seat. On his way, he gave Nadine the egg. 

Me: "Uh... You found it. You can keep it."

Madden shrugged. He didn't really want it. But Nadine did. 

Um, well, okay. I mean, he earned it. But, that meant that he could do with it as he pleased. And he chose to give it to Nadine. 

There were also three golden eggs hidden, and the prize for those was a gift card to Raising Cane's. Nadine wondered where those were. I explained that they would be hidden for their lunch time, and it would be hidden outside. 

The game finished, we got into our lesson for the day, which was a documentary on F. Scott Fitzgerald. They'd be reading The Great Gatsby once we returned from spring break. (Which will be as you read this. I saved my subbing stories for when we're back at school.) 

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

A Friendly Game

Last Monday I was back at the Alternative Education Center (aka, the school where Austin was throwing chairs). So, I was prepared for the worst. 

And... nothing terrible happened. It was a pretty chill day. So, win.

Fourth period. Health. I had one student. 

Security, who had been hanging out in the room on and off all day, returned and started getting things set up...

The student, Jocelyn, was ready to start the sex ed unit, but a parent conference had to happen first, so until then, they had been passing the time playing Sequence. 

(I was given the option of doing something else, but I'm all for keeping things as they've been going. Besides, I enjoy a good game.) 

I've seen the game on store shelves, but I've never tried it. As he set up, security explained the gist. We play in teams, so he and I were on one team, and Jocelyn and the school counselor, Ms. R, were on the other. Apparently, Jocelyn and Ms. R are formidable opponents. Security was itching to beat them.

The basic premise is to get a row of five checkers, but you can only put checkers down if you have the right card. 

Jocelyn started. By the time it was my turn, I had an idea of what to do. Jocelyn's team got one row, but to win you need two. I focused on blocking, but I built up our rows when I could.

We won game 1. 

Game 2 we lost. 

I wasn't too disappointed. We tried. And now we were even. But we had about twenty minutes left of class, so we had time for game 3. 

Neither team was making much headway. We'd get three in a row, and then the other team would block. 

It was getting close to lunch. Then it was lunch. But we were close. Each team had one row, but we needed a second.

And then I had the opportunity to play my wild card. I had been dealt a wild card at the beginning, but I held it until I could use it. I saw the win, and I took it. 

Yup, I play to win.

I suppose I should have let the student win. Right? Maybe?

I don't know. I mean, she did win one. Of three...

Ah well. They'll know not to let me play next time if they don't want me to really try.

Shadow Boxing

Friday. It was an eighth grade English class, but most of the class was missing as they were on an end of the year field trip. (They went to a local movie theater to see The Little Mermaid.) 

Not every student gets to go on these excursions, so I had a few students in every class. Their teacher left a video for them to watch. (Surprisingly, it did not go badly. I had one minor glitch. Maybe my luck has turned.) 

I turned off the video before the end of the period. The kiddos had enough time to engage in the newest fad.

The first time I saw this was maybe two weeks ago. (Not longer than a month ago.) And within days, it became a thing I saw daily. 

Two boys (it's always boys, at least so far) stand three-ish feet apart. One moves his hand. The other moves his head. It's rather innocuous, and it rarely lasts very long, so I'm not concerned. Just curious. But I never got a chance to ask the question.

Until that day.

"What are you doing?" 

Apparently, it's called shadow boxing. (Not the shadow boxing I knew of.) Or the finger pointing game. 

Now that I had a name, I could do a search online. And yep, it's a thing. I found a site with the rules. And there are videos.

I guess it's probably huge on TikTok right now. If you're into that sort of thing.

Anyway, I just wanted to let you all know about the newest fad floating around the middle and high schools. (I would not be surprised to find it happening at elementary schools as well.) We'll see how long this game lasts.

Playing Cards

Monday Mr. P and I switched jobs. I took over his special ed co-teaching assignment while he returned to the English classes he'd been in since January to finish up the state testing the students needed to do.

So, what was the eighth grade English class that I was co-teaching doing? State testing. Naturally. 

When I arrived, Ms. R (who I subbed for when she was on maternity leave back during hybrid learning in 2021) greeted me with, "Welcome to watching paint dry."

Ms. R was done. She was not in the mood for any of their shenanigans. Only a few of the students were still testing, so the rest were to have brought something silent to do. 

As she was explaining the rules (which they knew, but with eighth graders, you have to repeat and repeat and repeat, and they still will not have heard), I noticed one girl nodding along as if answering yes to the question of having brought something silent to do.

The girl had a coloring book, a jigsaw puzzle. And a deck of Uno cards.

Ahem.

They got started. Ms. R was busy at her computer, making sure the students were "let in" to the testing session. I took over monitoring the kiddos. 

The kiddos needed things. One wanted to move out of his seat and sit on the couch. There was already a kiddo on the couch. (Yes, this teacher has a couch. It's a reward for the students.) Another student asked for something that Ms. R had told him to wait for.

Once the excitement of getting started had settled, we just had the usual fidgeting to deal with. But things were quiet, so all was well.

And then Ms. R saw the girl with the Uno cards. Well, she saw two girls with Uno cards. The game had started...

I mean, how can anyone think playing a game is going to go silently? And Uno? Seriously? Part of the point is yelling out "Uno!" when you have that last card.

Ms. R just gave them a look. She motioned for them to put the cards away. They did. But the look on their faces was something. They thought they could play quietly? Really?

Eighth graders are different creatures. From now on, Ms. R will for sure be telling classes not to bring games for silent days. And students will wonder why she would make such a warning. 

Playing Games

Occasionally, I'll take an assignment out of sheer curiosity. When eSports popped up, I just had to know. What was this class?

It turned out the class was exactly what I was expecting: they play video games.

(It's affiliated with an after-school occupational program that includes things like culinary arts, health career intro, cosmetology, and firefighting.)

The two days I was there, they were having a tournament. They had a bracket they were working off of. It appeared to be a double elimination. And beyond that, I'm clueless.

The teacher had appointed class leaders, and they directed the rest of the class on who was playing whom and on which computers they were assigned. I did my job by taking roll and supervising the room.

Third period. Tuesday. The class leaders put on background music.

I don't mind background music. It helps students work, usually. (Not me. I need silence to work. But when in a class, if they need music, I'm okay with them having music.) And instead of the usual inappropriate rap songs that they usually pick, the boys put on video game music. 

(You can look it up on YouTube. I had another teacher tell me that it's great for background music as it was composed with the idea that someone would be focusing on their game, and it won't distract from it.)

The only problem with video game music (as anyone who's played games for hours can tell you) is that it's repetitive. After a while it gets to be too much.

The boy in charge of the music switched it once during class, and he put on something that came from the Nintendo Wii. And then that got old.

When he got up to change it, a girl in class commented that it was about time. I concurred. 

But we only had about five minutes left in the period. He looked for something to play for a short time. 

"Kiwi" appeared along the sidebar. 37 seconds. He played it...

And I laughed.

It's not intrinsically funny. Not really. 

But...

Well, of course I had to share. The creator definitely deserves the views. And like I said, 37 seconds:

Too cute. (And it totally reminded me of the time I knit a kiwi. Eldest nephew is now 17, so I doubt he still has it.)

I know, I spend a lot of time on this blog writing about the kiddos' misdeeds, but most of the time, the kiddos are all right. 

The Activity

It was Wednesday at the continuation high school. Advisory. 

Advisory is a short period between periods one and two that occurs only on Wednesdays. Back in the day (I've been doing this a long time), it was the time when the students would get printouts of their graduation status. With computers and access online to their records, they don't need this information once a week (they still get those printouts about once a month), so advisory has evolved.

On this day, the ASB was conducting an activity. While I was reading the usual announcements (this is the time when they deal with administrative stuff the students need to do), the counselor came over the intercom to let us know to release the students to the quad. 

I've been at the school for games of musical chairs. I've seen some interesting games. But this was the first time the students were lined up for something and I didn't hear any sort of explanation as to what they were doing. 

They all seemed to understand the game already. 

I gleaned the rules from watching. After, I asked a student what they had been playing.

It's a game called Sharks vs. Minnows. Apparently, it's a well-known elementary school playground game. 

This is actually a good tip for dealing with teenagers: they do like doing stuff from their "childhood". (The trick is to do it with full awareness that they are Too Old for This.) 

Unlike the earlier games I had seen, this time they had plenty of volunteers. We only had one injury when a boy slipped and fell. (He complained that he was wearing Crocs which don't really work well for a running game.) 

As for the game: in the middle of the basketball court, four students lined up. They were the sharks. At the edge of the court ten-ish students lined up. They were the minnows.

At the start of the game, the minnows were to run across the court and make it to the other side. If the sharks tagged them, they were out (and became sharks, although some just stepped out of the game). They went back and forth across the court until all the minnows got tagged out. (I would have assumed that someone should win, but they had that last kiddo run across one last time. With four plus sharks, the kiddo was doomed.) 

Cute game, but completely new to me. Have any of you heard of this game before?

Kicking Him Out

Friday. Snack time. 

(Snack is a ten minute pause between the first and second classes of the day.)

All the students filed out of the room, except for one. He was still on his computer, playing a game...

I gave him a minute or so. Then I headed over.

"Time to go."

"Just a couple more minutes? If I exit the game now, I lose points..."

Now, besides the fact that he should have spent class time on, oh, I don't know, maybe his math assignment rather than a video game, I wasn't about to grant him the time as it was my break time.

Because of the way the block schedule is set up at this school, after snack, I have a long two classes to get through before lunch. This is a little more than three hours. That's a little more than three hours until I can once again leave the room and use the restroom.

I told him I needed the restroom, so he had to leave. He stalled.

"I'll close the door when I'm done."

I had been warned not to let the students near the teacher's stuff as she had experienced some thefts. I was no way no how leaving a student in the classroom unattended. 

Apparently his game finished, and he logged off his computer, grabbed his stuff, and left. 

I still had enough time to make it to the restroom and back before the next class. 

But I mean, seriously? He knew when the period ended. I gave a clean up warning minutes before that bell rang. He couldn't have figured out that he didn't have time for another round of his game? 

Say Uno!

After lunch, we spend a half hour playing board games. 

I can see why this is a thing for this population. They have to take turns. There are clear rules to follow. And everyone can get a chance to win. 

There's a group that likes to play Uno. If you're unfamiliar, it's a card game that uses a specific Uno deck, and the object is to play all the cards in your hand. One lays down a card that matches the color or the number of the card played before them. There are cards that will reverse play, skip a player, or prompt a player to draw more cards. 

It's a fun game, one I played before encountering this class. 

One of the big rules in Uno is when a player has one card remaining in their hand, they must announce, "Uno!" to the group. 

It was game time, and I joined a game played by Pizza, Sushi, and Antoine. 

We had played for a bit when Pizza noticed that Sushi had one card in his hand. He had forgotten to announce "Uno!". Oops. 

The forgetting happens sometimes. There's a penalty for not announcing "Uno!", but our classroom deck had long ago lost its instructions, and as we were in the middle of playing, I wasn't going to stop and look it up on the internet. 

I mean, it was a one-off, right? 

But then Pizza noted Sushi again "forgetting" to announce "Uno!" And again. After the fourth or fifth time, I wondered if Sushi was forgetful or just playing us. 

Now, if no one noticed, that would have been one thing. But Pizza noticed it every single time. So, as soon as we finished our game time, I hit the internet and looked it up. 

It turns out the penalty is the person with one card must draw four cards from the deck, thereby eliminating his Uno. 

I announced this to the class as a whole. Somehow that rule hadn't been needed until now. 

The next day, I was playing with a different group, but Pizza, Sushi, and Antoine were again playing Uno. (I think aide 2 joined them on this day.) And I heard a couple of times Pizza getting Sushi to draw the four cards. It's becoming a habit with him.

Sigh. Sushi *shakes head* I can't say this truly surprises me about him.

Zero Game

I've written this post before. Many times, actually. And I'm sure I'll write it many times after this. Because, kids.

Because hybrid classes (some students online, some in person), and because when Ms. R created the plans for her maternity leave while we were still all in distance learning, the assignments are all online. (Although, eighth grade English was largely in Google Classroom before the pandemic. The distance learning thing just pushed the rest of it online.) 

So, every day the in-person kiddos come into the classroom and log in on their computers.

Thursday. First period.

They were to watch two videos on women in World War 2. (One on Rosie the Riveter and one on the WASPs.) Then they had questions to answer.

The co-teacher was doing her usual circulating around the room when she happened upon Diego. With a game going on his computer. 

Deep sigh.

And he pulled the "I have no idea how that got on my screen" ploy. 

What makes this particularly stupid is that we had only seven students in the classroom. It's not like we're not going to notice.

When they're at home, we can't police them. We hope the parents do that, but in reality, their parents are probably as busy if not more so. But when the kiddos are in the room with us? 

I have a pretty good idea why Diego's parents sent him back to in-person.

Two Truths and a Lie

Last week was Thanksgiving break, so there was no school. This is from the week prior.

English language development. They had an activity. 

The teacher had posted a game. They were to come up with two truths and one lie. Then they were to try to guess their classmates' lies. 

It was fun for me as I could see the whole interaction. When it was time, I called on each student to reveal their lie. 

And in each instance, at least one if not two or three of their classmates guessed the lie. 

Although, maybe not guessed.

One student's lie was that he liked orange. Another said his shoe size was 10. A third said she had a good memory. 

The students pretty much got those lies. In a class like ELD, they've been together a couple years. They probably didn't have to struggle too hard to figure out the lie. 

But the activity worked really well virtually. It would not have worked nearly as well in person. And it was the perfect assignment to be done by a sub.

Games Cheerleaders Play

My big excitement for last week was rearranging my yarn. Seriously. I removed it from a box containment system and put the various skeins in bags... Yeah, I won't bore you with details. That just means that today is a #ThrowbackThursday day. 

The new Blogger makes it harder to go back to older posts. Sigh. So, this isn't as way-back as I could go, but it'll do. It's from May 23, 2014, and it was an interesting day. 

It was a Friday near the end of the school year, and I ended up subbing for the cheerleading coach. She taught science the rest of the day. It was only for 6th period that I had the cheerleaders. All sitting in one classroom. With nothing to do.

(Well, technically, they had a "study hall". But rarely do the students in these types of classes, i.e. student government, the yearbook, the golf team, do anything on days like this.)

I managed to get roll taken, and then I sat back. One girl asked the others if they'd like to play a game.

Days like these I get to be a fly on the wall. They know I'm there, but quickly they forget all about me. And I get to see them in their natural habitat. What sort of game were they going to play?

The girl announced that they were going to play "Going on a Cruise Ship". Each girl got to take two items with her. And if she got the items wrong, she was booted off the ship. Now, the rules of the game were kind of unclear, because one girl said she'd bring her swimsuit but was booted off while another said she'd bring an alligator but could stay.

But that was the point. From playing the game and listening in, the girls had to catch on. (A girl near me explained the situation.) It was a puzzle. And it ticked a couple of the girls off.

(I've done a couple cursory Google searches, but I have been unable to find the games. So, sorry, I can't provide rules.)

Apparently, they played this game at cheer camp last summer. And there were other games, too. After they all figured out the cruise ship rules (or some just gave up).

The next game had to do with a bouncing ball. Not an actual bouncing ball, but a fictional ball that one girl threw to another, but that girl missed it, and it went... That's what they had to guess. Who had the ball? This one they figured out pretty quickly.

Then the first girl took three dry erase markers from the board. She arranged them on the floor in the middle of the group, saying that she was "drawing a picture" of one of the girls. (No vandalism took place.) Then the girls had to guess who she drew.

Now, for me it was hard to follow along as I didn't know the girls' names. I learned a few as they did all of this, but from my vantage point and where the dry erase markers were, it was hard for me to see the full picture. (I could have gotten up. They wouldn't have objected if I sat among them. But I didn't.)

The last game had them looking at the moon (figuratively) and having something with them. Again, no rules. They had to figure it out themselves.

It drove some of them crazy. One girl would think she had it, attempt to do something using the rules as she understood them, and find out that she had it wrong.

I thought it was a great mental exercise. Very educational. Of course, I didn't mention that. They were having too much fun. (Or maybe "fun". You know, the kind that makes you crazy because you want to know how it works. Kind of like magic tricks.)

Game Day

"Is Mr. G out again today? I'm so glad to see you..."

Wilbur then proceeded to call me a "good teacher" and his "favorite sub". Which is code for he didn't do any work, and he enjoyed that immensely. Sigh.

The continuation high school. Computer aided drafting. Second period.

Monday had been a difficult day for me. The spy software wasn't working...

I know I've talked about the spy software before. (I was going to link to it, but I can't seem to find the post.) It's a program that runs on the teacher's computer that shows what each student computer is doing. It's very useful, because many times when I get up to look over their shoulders, they quickly minimize the thing they shouldn't be doing and pull up the thing they should be working on.

So on Monday, while it was clear they weren't on task, when I got up to verify this, they were suddenly "on task".

But Tuesday the spy software miraculously worked. (I almost rebooted the computer on Monday. Silly me. That probably would have fixed the problem.) This meant I could easily watch what they were doing.

In second period, Wilbur played Krunker. Which is what he did on Monday. (They're loud when they play, so it's rather obvious.)

At the end of second period, Wilbur informed the class he'd return to "hang out" in sixth period. (He announced. He didn't ask. He probably should have asked...)

Sixth period Wilbur walked in. Other students asked him why he was there. To me, he tried to play off like he belonged. Failing that, he tried the "Mr. G lets me wait here" card.

So, I told him if he wanted to work, he could stay. But he couldn't just play games. He promised he was planning to do work.

I had the spy software up, and I watched.

The minute it switched from a plain Google background to Krunker, I was on him.

"I'm not on Krunker..."

Because there's a lag, it took a few seconds before it switched back to the plain Google background.

I didn't get up. So, he switched back to Krunker.

And that's when I kicked him out. It was clear he wasn't going to do work, and I didn't need another gamer in the room. I had plenty of those actually enrolled in the class.

(If they don't do their work, they lose out on earning their credits, so they're really only hurting themselves.)

Chutzpah

Integrated math 2. This is the math class that used to be geometry, or sophomore level math. They had their test study guide to work on (which was basically what their test was going to look like, only with different numbers).

Fifth period. Herbert walked in and immediately grabbed a Chromebook. I told him to put it back as they had a different assignment that day.

Tenth grade (fifteen-year-olds) is an interesting time. They're transitioning from a middle school mindset to a more mature outlook. Some groups are further along in this progression than others.

Fifth period had a mix of those who were determined to figure out the material and those whose weren't going to do much at all. This is pretty typical for that age.

I had just been helping a couple students navigate a problem that looked like: 2 + (-2 + 6i) + (3 - 4i) where i is an imaginary number. I looked over at the teacher's desk, and...
HERBERT WAS SITTING THERE, PLAYING A GAME ON THE DESKTOP COMPUTER!!!

Yes, I am shouting. Because that was so beyond...

Students do not sit at the teacher's desk. I mean, some will try at the beginning of the period. Some try at the end. But it's a game they play. In the middle of the period, they sit at their desks.

I generally leave the computer on with my day's temporary password for the attendance program input so I can quickly do the roll at some point during the period. I feel comfortable doing this because the kiddos don't sit at the teacher's desk, and it's generally safe to do so.

So, when I looked up and saw Herbert at the desk...

"Uh, no. Nope. Nope. Nope."

I have to say, he got up pretty fast. And the screen was back to the attendance program.

But then he turned around, sat down again, and said, "I'm the teacher."

I just kept calmly repeating "nope" until he returned to his seat.

Why couldn't he be a normal teen and just sneak the game on his phone? I mean, that's what the rest of them were doing.

Yesterday I had a student in class (English) who had been in this class (last week). Apparently their teacher wasn't too keen on this either. Herbert was suspended from her class for three days.

Priorities

Ninth grade math. They... uh... had, um, a word search...

Well, they're not my class, so I rolled with it. They were happy to have an easy day. Easy points.

By fourth period I was no longer too worried about their "work". I should have known better.

Mostly, the kiddos finished the word search quickly, and then they found something else to do.

But, not very long into period four, I noted a group of four boys clearly competing on a video game on their phones.

(There are days I let this sort of thing slide. If they had had a longer assignment or something a bit more academic, the period would have felt less like a free day, and I would have been all over the boys to get to work.)

Still, I knew what was going to happen, and I decided to let it.

At the end of the period, I called for the word searches. A majority of the class had already given them to me, but I like to make a final call to make sure all of them get a chance to turn it in.

The gaming boys...

"It's due?!?"

"Can I do it for homework?"

When I passed it out, I said "due at the end of the period". I was crystal clear. Besides, why would something that is clearly busy work need to be finished at home? (Sometimes teachers leave work that is just filler to keep them busy. That is so much better than leaving them up to their own devices, so I am grateful for those assignments even if I know the kiddos don't invest much energy into them.)

I was a bit too happy that they turned in word searches with two or three words found. If they chose to waste time...

(If only they had done what everyone else did that day and finish the word search first, then got out their game, they would have been fine. It's a lesson I hope they learned.)

ELD Bingo

The first two periods of this high school English class was beginning ELD (English Language Development).

How beginning? As I was explaining the assignment to half of the class (while the other half worked on something different), I noticed that none of them were listening. They were all focused on their computers or phones. I peeked at what they were doing. They were typing in the instructions from their papers into their devices, and the computer was translating into alphabets I did not recognize.

So, I did a lot of pointing after that.

But then we were to play Bingo. It was in the lesson plan, I swear.

As soon as I pulled out the Bingo set, a couple students started passing stuff out. I instructed those who were in charge that they were. And they got to it.

The instruction was that as soon as a number was called, the students were to repeat it back. And once they started doing that, I realized what this assignment was all about.

They were practicing their numbers.

For the most part, things went pretty well. They got confused between numbers like thirteen and thirty. But, it's B13 and I30, so if they said I-thirteen, I immediately knew something was wrong.

They were very shy shouting out "BINGO!" though. I barely heard it.

Then it was a scramble for the prizes. Where were the prizes? At least I found those readily enough.

The assignment may have been about practicing numbers, but the winners wanted their winnings.

Blind Connect Four

Actually, to be fully correct, this post should be titled "Connect Four for Students who are Visually Impaired", but that's just too long and unwieldy...

I covered one period of the visually impaired class while the teacher was at an IEP meeting. And we managed to get through their entire assignment with twenty plus minutes left to spare.

I asked what they do normally when the lesson runs short. They said they played a game the last time. The instructional aide suggested Connect Four. (There were two students in class.)

In case you were wondering (I was), someone had drilled holes in all the black checkers, so one could tell by touch which checkers were which.

The two girls played one game that finished very quickly. They said they were bored with it.

Really? Bored? That tells me that they weren't doing it right...

So, I sat down with them and went about teaching them a bit of strategy.

As a child I played many strategy games with my father. (Chess. Pente.) And he was merciless. (He still is.) He will place pieces in ways meant to confuse and distract me. I learned from an early age to pay close attention, think several steps ahead (what could he possibly do next? where could he win that I'm not seeing?), and never let my guard down.

After the first girl played her first checker, I talked each girl through her move. What should she look out for? Where could she win? Where could she make an error to let the other girl win? I explained how to think two to three moves ahead.

I have no idea if either learned something. That second game took considerably longer than the first. And then it was time for them to go.

Sex in Scrabble

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

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

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

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

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

"It means gender."

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

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

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

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

Gaming

It was Friday at the continuation high school. Computer aided drafting. They had an assignment.

But it was Friday, 2nd period complained. They didn't do work on Fridays...

Apparently, they played games on Fridays. (Which I don't believe. But at a certain point, all I'm going to end up doing is arguing with them. So, I can spend the period arguing with them getting no work done. Or I can spend the period watching them get no work done. Some days the aggravation isn't worth it. I just make a note of it and let their teacher deal with them upon his return.)

Of course, they had to play the game of the moment, Fortnite.

My job puts me in the position of hearing what the most popular stuff of the moment is. Right now, it's a game. Everybody is playing it. I hear about the game at least once a day, but most of the time more. That includes days where the kiddos are actually on task.

So, if you have a teenager around you, slip the name into conversation. I bet they're playing. If not, they've heard of it.

As I'd given up on arguing that they should work. I was just listening in to the conversation...

They were taking offense at a fellow player's screen name. Toesucker*** (I can't remember what the number after it was). They were wigged out by the name.

"Who does that? Why would you even want to touch someone's foot...?"

I wisely kept my mouth shut. Ah, the innocence of youth.

If only they spent their time doing their work.

The Quiet Game

Freshman English. It had been a very long day, but it was only 4th period. (The students do not like their teacher, and so they've gone wild.)

At a ceratin point, there's nothing more for me to do. I try to contain the chaos, but otherwise I sit back and watch.

The students were loud. Most weren't doing the assignment. (They were supposed to be doing a "close read" of "The Lady or the Tiger".) The conversations were typical of freshmen. (I think. I wasn't really listening.) In the midst of this, one student decided it was time to play The Quiet Game.

via GIPHY

Seriously? They wouldn't shut up while I practically did the first question for them, but when they had leave to discuss their work (not that they were using the permission to talk constructively), they think The Quiet Game is fun?

via GIPHY

One student challenged another. Then, "The first person to talk is a loser," type of thing. And suddenly the whole room was silent--except for all the snickering.

The silence lasted for maybe two minutes. They tried again. Still, not long. The most peace I had during class, certainly. Although, I'd have traded any silence for actual work on the assignment.

Sigh. Freshmen...

Rainy Day Games

Friday. 6th period. The tennis team.

They were supposed to have practice, but it had been wet all day (not raining hard enough to need an umbrella, but constant enough that everything was soaked), so I wasn't shocked when they all descended upon the teacher's classroom (as opposed to the tennis courts).

"Let's play Never Have I Ever."

These sorts of days, when I'm covering a sport and we're hanging out, they pretty much can do whatever. I do object to things like prank calls. But card games, on their phones, eating, just sitting around and talking, or doing homework are all fair game.

So, one group in the middle of the room played Never Have I Ever. (If you checked out the link and read the rules, they used the "fingers variation".) And they played dirty...

"Never have I ever been black and over 6 feet tall..." targeted the one boy in the group that fit that description.

"Never have I ever been to mass..." targeted the Catholics in the group.

For the most part, they kept it tame. Nothing I objected to, anyway. (I get on them to keep the language appropriate and topics appropriate for school.) And that's all I ask, really. At least in situations like this.