Caught in the Lie

Friday. English language development (read: extra English class for students not fluent in English). Ninth grade. Sixth period.

(If the above picture looks a little familiar, that's because I was subbing for Ms. A, who I've done two long terms for, the last one last April. Now that she has her two children, she's unlikely to need another maternity leave.) 

Ms. A left me a list of her students who were on the escort list. And she had warned me (I ran into her the previous day) that sixth period was her difficult group. 

So, when Aiden asked to use the restroom, I was ready. He did not complain too loudly (although when I mentioned he was on the escort list, he played like he had no idea) when I told him he'd have to wait for security to escort him. Although, he wasn't too happy when security took a while to get to the room. 

(Students get placed on the escort list when they take too long to use the restroom. It's not that far. We tell them five minutes, but if it takes a couple minutes longer, no big deal. But some take significantly longer than ten minutes.) 

While Aiden was waiting, Khloe asked to go. I again called security, and when they finally showed up, I figured they could escort both students. It would save a trip. So, both got up and went towards the security person in her golf cart, and I saw her talk to them both. 

Four minutes later, Aiden returned. Khloe... 

Other students were in and out. Because the assignment for the day was test prep, the teacher had said for the last bit of the period the kiddos could watch a movie. I was getting things going on that when Jordan asked to go. I knew I had a girl who was waiting, so I told him to put his name on the list. That's when whoever was out got back, and Jordan convinced the girl to let him cut in line. 

It was only after the movie was going that I noted the list and realized that Jordan was my third escort list kiddo, and he shouldn't have left on his own. (He timed it for when I wasn't paying attention.) Grrr. 

Jordan was only gone about ten minutes. It was later that I talked to Ms. A. (She was on campus in a meeting.) She caught Jordan out and about. He was on his phone. (They are supposed to leave their phones in a box in the classroom, so he shouldn't have had it on him.) Ms. A confiscated his phone (and turned it into the office). 

So, I feel comfortable that Jordan got his consequence for sneaking past me on the escort thing. 

As for Khloe, she returned after more than a half hour out of class with a story about security telling her to stay in the bathroom because she was feeling sick... I didn't catch half the story, and it didn't pass the smell test. If Khloe was feeling sick, security would have taken her to the health office, and someone would have informed me of this. 

Freshmen... 

Yeah, I took note of all of this, and their teacher knows. And she's not happy about it. 

I mean, seriously, the amount of work it took them to evade security... If they only put that kind of effort into their school work. 

A Likely Story

Friday. Twelfth grade English. Second period. 

It was almost an hour into the ninety-minute period (block schedule) when Jocelyn arrived. She asked if her friend, who didn't have a second period, could "hang out" in class with her.  

While Jocelyn informed her friend that she'd have to go elsewhere, I noticed that Jocelyn had handed me a yellow late pass. The pass said 8:39. It was 9:24. 

When Jocelyn returned to me to get the day's assignment, I asked her where she'd been for the better part of an hour. 

Jocelyn explained how there was a long line in the office to get a late pass, how she picked up a random yellow pass from the counter, and how the time stamps on those passes didn't mean anything, really. 

All of this? Lies. 

Rather than get into an argument with Jocelyn, I nodded, and she sat down and got to work. 

After second period was snack. I went to the attendance office. 

I told the clerk what Jocelyn had told me. As expected, she laughed. 

When a student arrives late, they get a pass. The attendance clerk stamps the pass with the time stamp machine. Then they're shooed to class. Most students arrive at class within a couple minutes of that time. (If the class is far from the office, it might be closer to five minutes.) 

If the student is more than a half hour late, the attendance office switches from yellow passes to red passes. Student gets it time stamped. Then the attendance office inputs the tardy as "excessive". 

The attendance clerk said that Jocelyn's grandmother had called the school wondering why Jocelyn had so many tardies. So, the clerk said she'd call Jocelyn out of class the next period and they could call the grandmother and talk to her on the phone together. 

Only... 

The next period the school had an assembly. (It was to celebrate students with good grades. It was beach themed. Perfect, actually as it was a 95℉ day.) I actually saw Jocelyn. She arrived late. She left early. And then I saw her strolling around campus when my class returned to class. Because, of course. 

I checked the attendance software, just to see. Jocelyn had been marked truant for both my period and the period after. The clerk left a note that she had been unable to find Jocelyn in the next class. 

Jocelyn is a senior. We're about one quarter away from graduation. I hope she doesn't miss it due to how much class she's been missing. 

Caught Out

Thursday. Tenth grade English, honors. Fourth period. They had a test on Act Five of Macbeth. 

We're right up on the end of the school year now. The day this post goes live is our last day of school. So, I was kind of surprised when one of the kiddos was absent. But whatever. 

About halfway through the period, Andrea arrived. At that point, only one student was still working on the test. I told Andrea that there was a test and that she could get started. She questioned if she had enough time to finish it. I figured she did. (Logically, if she still had half the period and the class was done, the test should only take her half the period, which was the time she had left.) Besides, when was she going to have time to make it up? Best to get it done. 

She sat down, but then she came back to me. She said that she usually takes her tests in her counselor's office, so could she go and take the test there? So, I let her go. 

I thought nothing of this. Some students have various accomodations, and my philosophy is trust. But verify. 

The next day I ran into Ms. S (the teacher). She stopped me to ask a question. Because, it turns out that Andrea has never taken her English tests in her counselor's office. 

Uh oh. 

(Because, yeah, I made a note of it. I always make a note of it.) 

Ms. S was not pleased. She wasn't upset with me. She said that Andrea had been trying to get around things all school year. 

But I was able to put Ms. S's mind at ease about a couple things. First, Andrea had left her cell phone in the classroom. (Ms. S had required all the kiddos to turn in their phones before the test. Andrea had as well.) Second, when Andrea left the room, she left her belongings behind. 

Could she have cheated? Of course. Ms. S knows who her counselor is, so she can verify if Andrea went there for the test. Odd that she'd try this on this last test. But whatever. 

There is a reason I keep detailed notes. It's so the teachers can catch the kiddos out when they pull this stuff with subs. 

The Student Who Was Not There

Monday, third period. I was in the learning center. 

The learning center is a room for special ed kiddos to come and take tests. Some special ed students need an alternate location for that. It's also a room with fewer distractions, and some students can use the room on days when they need that. 

So, basically, I wasn't expecting to have any students. (Some days the room is empty. Some days there'll be several students in there.)

The phone rang. Mr. R asked if the student he had sent to the room had arrived to take a test. The student had not. 

So, I was surprised when this student arrived a few minutes later. 

He explained that he had been in the learning center earlier. He had finished his test. 

I was confused. Had he taken the test the previous period? Because, he had not been in the room during third period. 

When I got to the room during the passing period, it was locked. The room was empty. I had been alone for a while. There had been no other student there, so this boy claiming he had been there... 

I mean, I can think up instances of him being in the room and me not seeing him. Perhaps he found a learning center in an alternate dimension. Maybe he figured out a way to turn invisible. But, actual real world scenarios? Nope. He was not there. 

The boy asked if I could call Mr. R and tell him he'd arrived, so I did. But as he had not been in the room when he was supposed to have been, he was still in trouble. Mr. R asked me to send him to a different room to see a counselor, so I sent him on his way. 

(He returned a short time later, saying that the counselor said he couldn't stay. I let him and wrote it all down for the teacher I was covering. If he was lying, he's in worse trouble now. If not, well, Mr. R is kind of a jerk, so there was no point in making him angrier.) 

I was just so flummoxed by how certain this kiddo was that he'd been in the learning center that period. I tried to find out where the kiddo had actually been. But what I wasn't considering was the obvious: he was lying. 

Because, really, that's what this was. A lie. Where had he been? He wasn't telling. And he was going to keep repeating the lie that he had completed his test in the learning center. (Kind of have to admire him for picking a story and sticking to it.)

Fictional Twin

"Do you know a Keith that goes to this school?"

I did. There was a Keith in the seventh grade science class I had done the long-term assignment in.

It was passing period before fourth period. A boy named Kevin was claiming that this Keith was his twin. His classmates were dubious. I didn't have much information, so I stayed out of the discussion. And then it was time to start class.

It was French 2. The students in this discussion were in eighth grade. For the time I was there, Kevin maintained this story that he had a twin that went to the school.

I quickly figured out that this story is a fabrication. 

Because, while Keith does have a twin, that twin was in the same science period as Keith, and his name is Jared. 

Oh, and Keith is in seventh grade while Kevin is in eighth. (And Keith is white while Kevin is Black.) 

I'm not sure why I didn't bust Kevin, but I chose to stay out of this conversation and just watch from afar. 

The next time I had this group in class, Kevin had changed his story. No, Keith wasn't his twin. His twin's name was Kingsley. 

This was slightly more plausible as Kingsley actually has the same last name as Kevin. 

Funnily enough, I had met Kingsley as well. In the seventh grade science class. So, again, not his twin as Kevin is in eighth grade. 

I'm not sure what it is about that age, but they will tell stories that are clearly fabricated and they will try to get people to believe them. And they will maintain that they are telling the truth even when you have ample evidence that they are lying.

Perhaps that's why I chose to stay out of it. I didn't want to waste the energy.

Because, the kiddos were sucked into that conversation enough. They were sure he was lying, and they were working hard to disprove Kevin. But every reason they could find that Kevin was lying Kevin was able to rebut. 

Did they get their French work done? I hope so. But eighth graders. They can get distracted by just about anything.

Walks Like a Duck

Thursday (before Thanksgiving break). Fourth period.

Onyx: "I'm not high. But my keyboard is moving."

The computer in question was sitting stationary on the table.

This is my second full week in the class. I have Onyx in two different classes. She's been pretty mellow. But on this day... 

Not high? I doubt it.

She started off by telling another student to back off. (He didn't want to listen. He felt it was his duty to not give up and help Onyx with whatever it was that was bothering her. In this I intervened letting him know that this was not the time to push.) So, to keep the peace, I had Onyx sit closer to me.

It was a drop drill day, so when Onyx got under her desk, she accused it of stabbing her in the back. (She fell on one of the table legs.) How one can fall when one is sitting on the floor... 

She spent the rest of the period listening to her music. There was a bit of seat dancing. But I don't think she got much of the actual work done.

Not high? Perhaps. But something was definitely going on with her.

And she can't understand why she has a D in the class. (I attempted to explain where the problem was, but she didn't quite grasp my explanation.) 

Forgeries

Thursday. Seventh period. Seventh grade world history.

The class was calm. Cooperative. I gave instructions, and they got to work. 

Then, fifteen minutes later, seven or eight students walked in, five of them with hall passes. And inwardly, I groaned. If only they had stayed gone...

I know. That's terrible of me to say. But they were all the troublemakers. The loud ones. The ones who couldn't stay seated and weren't doing any work. (This was my third time with the group as I had gotten an almost complete week.) 

Once I got them sort of settled (as settled as they were going to get), I went to amend the online attendance. I went through the passes. 

On all but one pass, "not excused tardy" was scratched out and "excused" had been written. 

It was the way that the "not excused tardy" was scratched out and the way that "excused" had been written that was noteworthy. They had scribbled out the "not excused tardy" as if they were trying to blot it out, but they did a terrible job of it. "Excused" was very light and in block letters (unlike how the counselor had written the pass). It looked like they had used the outside walls as a hard surface on which to write.

I did not believe that for a second. I marked them all tardy.

One of the other late students (who hadn't bothered to bring me a pass) told me that they shouldn't be marked tardy as they had been locked in the new building on campus. 

I nodded. And I marked him tardy.

Because that's another thing that didn't pass the smell test. While all the classrooms lock to keep people out, none of them lock from the inside. I've been in the new building, and I know that if you're in the building and you want out, you can easily get out. There are many exits.

They don't realize that I've been around a while. They were definitely trying to get one over on the sub. Too bad they tried in on the sub who knows her way around that school.

Tag Team

Friday. Eighth grade math. Cotaught. 

I walked in expecting to play support to the regular general ed teacher, but it turned out she was out too. So, it was a two sub day.

Well, we could handle that.

Ms. S and I both read the lesson plans. We divvied up the work. (I'd check their homework. She'd take roll.) I have a math background, so I would take lead in going over the warm up and the homework. She'd keep classroom control while I did that. 

Second period went well. I was elsewhere for fourth period. (Learning center.) She had math support and enrichment. 

When I returned for sixth period, I was not surprised to hear that fourth period had not gone well. (It was only a week prior that I had my own hell in a math support and enrichment.) And several of those students also had math sixth period.

But things go a bit easier with two teachers in the room. I can deal with an issue on one side of the room while the other teacher deals with a problem on the other side. 

We had a couple students playing around. I caught a student copying the practice test they were doing. (Which was only going to hurt the student as no one was checking the practice test for completeness. This was their opportunity to figure out what they needed to learn for the test.) 

Ms. S had taken over keeping track of restroom passes, and I focused on answering math questions. 

"What are you doing over here?" I asked one boy.

"She said I could sit here." 

Considering that Ms. S hadn't been allowing students to move, I was dubious. I got Ms. S's attention and asked if she had let the boy sit in that seat. 

She had not.

Busted.

I mean, if you're going to tell a lie, do you tell one that can so easily be found out? 

Eighth graders... *shakes head* They really don't think sometimes.

An Unlikely Story

I was at the continuation high school most of last week. Tuesday I covered the social studies class. Wednesday I covered the math class. And Thursday I covered the computer aided drafting class. (Monday I was elsewhere and Friday was a holiday.) 

On Tuesday during the passing period before sixth period, I had two students approach me. Regina said she needed Harper's help with her assignment in computer aided drafting as the teacher was out and Harper knew how to do it.

Two parts of that story sounded completely true. 

I hadn't been aware that Mr. G was out that day, but I later found out he was. 

As I have subbed that class many times, I knew what the lesson plan always was. The students were to complete their assignments in Solidworks. They have a video they can access to help them complete the project, but sometimes there's a bit that they don't know how to do. It helps them if another student who has done it can help them get past that bit.

I gave Harper permission to be out of class. 

Thursday, sixth period. Regina and Harper both walk in, Harper holding a pink classroom exchange pass. (That's her permission to be out of her class.) 

And now, I got to see how much help Harper was on Regina's project. 

I was not at all shocked to find that Harper was of no help. Regina never even logged into her computer. Deep sigh. 

No one got much work done that day. It was the last day of the grading period, so they were truly only hurting themselves. 

But, now I have new knowledge. The next time that Regina insists that Harper has to help her on her assignment, I can reference being the sub in the class and that they did no work. Harper won't be getting any more classroom exchange passes from me. 

See, they were only hurting themselves.

Fact Checked

As I have done at the beginning of every period, I was standing at the front, checking the roll and verifying that the students were in their assigned seats. 

"Brynn, go back to your assigned seat." 

Brynn: "I have permission to sit here. I emailed Mrs. B, and she said I could change my seat." 

The prior week I had an email exchange with Mrs. B about the quarter grades. She informed me that she might be hard to get a hold of for the next week as she would be out of town. 

Plus, whenever Mrs. B gave a student permission for something or other, she included me in the exchange. 

Brynn was lying. 

Me: "I'll need to see that email..."

It took a bit longer before Brynn finally went back to her assigned seat. But I got what I wanted, and Brynn's name got added to my very long list of "student behaviors" that I started keeping on the first day I took over the class. (And I shared the Google Doc with Mrs. B, so she's been able to read it the whole time she's been out.) 

When they sit next to their friends, they play. This is why they lost the privilege of getting to choose their seats in class.

Fake Amanda

I'm not great at detecting lies, but sometimes the kiddos are obvious. Today's #ThrowbackThursday post is from February 22, 2008, but I remember it well. 

Today I covered a 7th grade world history class.

I needed a silent room. I was not getting it. So, I warned them: "I will take down the names of those who continue to talk." This only works when I cover some teachers. This was one of them.

They fought me on it for a moment. I stared down the few whose names were going to be on my list. Then one of the girls (the talkers were all girls in this group) told me to write down her name. "I'm Amanda," she said.

She offered up her name way too easily. I was suspicious. I checked the seating chart. Sure enough, Amanda sat in that seat. But she did not look like an Amanda. She did not feel like an Amanda. I was sure I was being lied to.

Twenty minutes later (I had gotten my silence, so I didn't need to make my list) two other students were exchanging words. "Amanda, I have it here." The first student was talking to a different girl, not the one who claimed to be Amanda. I knew it!

After a quick perusal of the seating chart, I figured out who the fake Amanda was. Joanna. I was pretty sure. The two girls had probably switched seats.

Then someone called to the fake Amanda, calling her Joanna. I was right.

I don't know why they do this. I don't know what they get out of it. Today? They get honorable mention in my note to their teacher.

Ms. T recently retired. I miss her classes. She did not put up with this sort of nonsense. That girl was in serious trouble afterward.

I'll Allow It

Those of you who have been following my blog for a while know what comes after the last day of school... SUMMER SCHOOL!!! Woo-hoo!

Summer school started last Monday. My first call came on Thursday.

When I got there, the summer school principal, Mr. E, walked me to the room. From what he said to me and to another passing teacher, it was clear Something Happened on Wednesday, and I likely didn't have much in the way of lesson plans.

Perhaps I'll find out what happened later...

As expected, there were no lesson plans. But it turned out the class had gotten books and had had a homework assignment the previous day. Okay, cool. I'd assign the next selection in the book (which turned out to be an excerpt from Antigone). It was a first semester tenth grade English class.

As we were getting started, a girl informed me that Mr. G (their teacher) had said they could finish the homework in class.

I'm terrible at lie detection, but this was clearly a lie. It was in the way she hesitantly said it. Another girl had previously said Mr. G was going to check their homework. Add all that together, and it just feels like a lie.

But, considering how I didn't have actual plans, and it is summer school, I went with it.

Sure, they could finish up the questions for the excerpt from Candide and turn it in by the end of the period.

(My general policy towards homework is: if the teacher specifically asked me to collect it or stamp it, I do so. If the teacher made no mention of it in the lesson plan, it doesn't exist to me, even if a student lets slip that there was homework.)

Summer school classes are two hours long. This was one way to kill some time.

Pencil War

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

Girl: "Give me back my pencil."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Vocabulary Challenge

English class at the continuation high school. The kiddos were to read a very short excerpt from John Locke's Of the State of Nature.

The students at the continuation high school aren't the strongest students, so the passage was a challenge for them to decipher. (I did read it with them and I tried to break things down so they understood.) Part of the assignment was to circle any words they were unfamiliar with so they could look them up.

I bet you know what's coming. I was expecting it.

"I am familiar with all of those words."

I believed two or three students. But way more than two or three students claimed this. So I warned them.

"If you're going to tell me that you know all the words in the excerpt, I'm going to ask you to prove it."

I had a group of students turning in their work. None of them had defined any words. Considering the paragraphs I had in front of me, I could give each student a different word. Words like: reciprocal, promiscuously, subordination, dominion, promulgated, and absolved.

And so I did. I asked each student to define a different word. And they made good stabs at it (using the context a bit). But they weren't even close.

Eventually they took their papers back. They didn't then look for words. Of course not. But at least they couldn't claim they were done.

(Considering that I heard one student looking up "arbitrary" but pronouncing it "obituary", there were more words that would have tripped them up had I asked for definitions.)

For Show

Government class. They were working on an outline of the U.S. Constitution. (It was actually a great way to make them go through it carefully.)

Certain teachers are fairly strict about things like cell phones and eating in class. Ms. M is one of those. She even has it posted in her class rules:

Note Rule #5

So, when I caught students in fourth period eating in class, I asked them to put the food away. They argued that Ms. M was okay with them eating in class.

Really? That's not what it says in her posted rules.

"Oh, that? That's just for show. Because it's a school rule. She doesn't mean it."

Uh huh. Sure. Let's see how Ms. M reacts to that little tidbit. They really should know by now I write down things like that.

Not Today

It's district writing assessment time. Oh joy...

During the prep/lunch period (at the continuation high school, one prep period is considered lunch), the counselor came in to deliver three writing assessments for students in the next period. She pointed out one, mentioned the boy by name, and said he really needed to work on this in class. Okay, then.

The next period arrived. I passed out the writing assessments. The boy had turned on his computer and had Krunker going. (This is the game of the moment at that school.) I realized he was the one the counselor had told me about. (I'm slow with names, but at a certain point I realize who is who.) I handed him his assessment.

"I'm not doing this today."

Me: "Ms. D said you need to write this."

"No, I talked to Ms. D. She said I don't have to do this today as I'm leaving at 1:55. I'll do it tomorrow."

Me: "That's about a half hour away. You have plenty of time to start."

And around it went. He wasn't having any of it. He was going to play his game.

Of course, on my way out, I ran into Ms. D. I told her all about what the boy had not done in class. (The principal was there, too.) She confirmed that she had told him to start writing the essay. Apparently, he doesn't realize I talk to people at the school.

Deep sigh. There's a whole lot of apathy and not doing any work going on at the continuation high school right now. We'll see if they get any more motivated the closer they get to their projected graduation date.

Clearly a Lie

Seventh period. For a change I had more than one student in class. I actually had two!

Yesterday I mentioned how the software had been down. They had the career research assignment to do or a couple of hand-drawn drafting assignments. It wasn't what they'd usually do in this class (computer aided drafting), but it wasn't completely off-topic.

A boy in the corner of the room laughed loudly. I glanced at what he had on his computer screen and found that he was watching something on YouTube. It looked like video from a radio station interview. It could have been a podcast.

(There is software on the teacher's computer that lets me watch what each student has on their computer screen. I've mentioned the technology before.)

Whatever it was, it wasn't on task.

I kept an eye on his computer as well as the computer of the other student in class. Neither were doing any work. Ah well.

At the end of the period, I went to "collect" their drawn-with-pencil-on-paper assignments. (Hey, the boy could have done that work with the video in the background. I don't know how, but many students do work better with background noise.) Of course, his paper was blank.

Me: "You did no work today?"

Boy: "I worked on that." He pointed at the career assignment. It was written on the board.

Me: "No, you didn't. You were watching videos all period."

He didn't argue with me any further.

Apparently, he's not aware of the monitoring software. But even then, he was laughing out loud. Loudly. For the whole room to hear. And he saw me look over at him. He really thought I wasn't aware he was watching a video that he found funny? Seriously?

Cutting her Losses

I was taking roll by seating chart.

"Where's Sarah?"

A girl raised her hand. She was sitting three seats behind and three seats over from where she should have been. But, was the seating chart accurate or had she been recently moved? I decided I wasn't in the mood to fight the battle.

I updated the seating chart and continued checking for missing students.

"Where's Angel?"

No one replied.

I knew Brian was absent; I remember him. By my head count, everyone else should have been there.

"Okay, so Brian and Angel are absent..."

No one corrected me. This is usually where someone chimes in with "I'm over here" so they don't get marked absent. Especially during summer school where they only get three before being dropped from the class.

Sarah had moved to sit beside a boy. I removed the phone they had been giggling over. The giggling continued. As the boy was in his assigned seat, it was the girl who needed to move.

I directed her to a seat at the front of the room (near where her assigned seat was). She agreed with no fuss. She packed up her stuff. Then she walked out of the room.

Um, I wasn't kicking her out. Just adjusting her seat.

Okay. Fine. It's summer school. She's absent. I noted this and wrote a note to the teacher about Sarah.

The rest of the class went smoothly. As I collected work from them at the end of the period, I glanced to make sure their names were on their papers.

That was when I saw "Sarah" at the top of a paper.

And suddenly I understood. "Sarah" was Angel. (Sarah was in her proper seat. But because Angel wasn't in hers, the whole row was in question, hence why I called Sarah's name even though she was where she was supposed to be.)

I guess Angel wasn't thinking through the whole lying-about-her-name thing. And she hadn't conferred with Sarah about swapping names. (It must have been the boy. Apparently she couldn't resist getting a chance to flirt with him.)

So, when I asked her to move, Angel must have figured she had nothing to lose by just leaving. She was already marked absent.

Although, why Sarah didn't speak up...

Once I discovered my mistake, it was easy enough to fix Sarah so she was marked present and change my note to reflect the correct name. And all it needed was one more tweak where I mentioned that Angel had lied about her name.

Freshmen...

Klepto Kid

Eighth grade U.S. history. The advanced class. So, that meant no "issues" right?

Snort.

Fifth period walked in. I gave my usual intro, looking back to the board to point out where I had posted my name for their reference. That's when I noticed the projector was on.

I was not using the projector.

So, a kiddo decided it would be funny to turn the projector on. *big shrug* I went to grab the remote to turn the projector off...

The remote was missing.

(It seems like this year's eighth graders might be a bunch of kleptos.)

I asked nicely for the remote to be returned. They questioned if I was sure the remote had been taken rather than, say, I had misplaced it.

Ahem. I hadn't been using it. It was sitting, minding its own business, on the front table. They sure know how to shift blame...

So, it came time for me to demand the return of school property. (At least this time they weren't offended by my accusations.)

Naturally, no one fessed up. So, it was time to explain what was going to happen if I did not get the remote back. (This explanation comes from experience. It ends with an assistant principal coming to class to search everyone's belongings.)

Less than five minutes later, a student "found" the remote on the floor behind his desk.

Remote returned. All was well.

The culprit? Likely the boy that "found" it.

But honestly, I don't care. If the teacher wants to chase that down, I left her all the particulars, including how that boy had been near the remote at the time it went missing.

My lesson: keep a better eye on random stuff as the kiddos have been walking away with it. Especially eighth graders.

What is something you lose frequently? Do you manage to find it?

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

Just a Phone Call

You know what it's like to listen to someone on a phone call? They talk. Then they pause. Then they talk again. You know you're hearing half the conversation. There are cadences to the speech. You can hear a different timbre to their voice.

You don't need to see the phone. You just kind of know by listening.

"I'm not on my phone. I'm talking to him."

Leah indicated her neighbor. This boy hadn't said a word. While Leah was clearly holding half a conversation with somebody.

I wasn't in the mood to argue. As I walked away, Leah said, "I told her I was working..." She related to her friend on the phone what had just interrupted their conversation.

It must be a generational thing. More than once I have tried to explain that they should not hold conversations on their phones in class. They always look at me like I'm being totally unreasonable.

Where's the weirdest place you've ever taken a phone call? What is something that other generations don't get about yours?

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