One Minor Glitch

My little counter at the top of my posts page tells me this is post #4500. Wow. I'm kind of amazed I noticed it. I guess I've been doing this for a while.

Here we go again... 

New school year, new vacant class. This one is seventh grade success. It's basically a study skills class that is kind of an elective for the kiddos, but it's also kind of required. 

I was informed that one requirement of the class is that we're to have them do grade checks every week. Okay, no problem. For them to be able to check their grades, they have to have access to the online gradebook. As they are new to the school, they were going to need to set that up. 

They gave me the instructions on how the kiddos needed to set up their accounts. They also gave me the log in credentials the kiddos would need: their student ID numbers, their official phone number, and a verification passcode. 

Knowing how these things go, I tried to be clever. I typed in the info they'd need into the computer, and I sent that info to each student before class began. 

So, we were in the midst of it. And it was going as well as could be expected. That is, I had many students unclear on what to do even though I had slides with what they needed to click on up for them. I explained to the class, and then I had to explain again to individual students. 

While I was helping the students who were struggling, the students who got it had worked ahead. And found the credentials that I had sent them. 

Only... they all had the same credentials. They had the credentials for one student named Sadie. 

Sadie alerted me to the problem. Several students now had gradebook access to her gradebook. 

Ugh. 

I do not know what happened. I sent each student a different set of credentials. I typed them in myself. I double checked that I was doing a different one for each individual student. It took me over an hour. 

Doesn't matter. It was wrong. 

I deleted what I could. Many students hadn't even gotten that far. And it was the end of the period, so we were out of time. 

So, now I have to track down the person who can reset these things. The main office sent me to the IT guy who sent me to someone in the district office. But it was late afternoon on a Friday. 

At least I wasn't to see this class again until Tuesday. Maybe it'll be fixed by then? So we can try it again? 

Just when I thought I had a handle on things...

A Snafu Kind of First Day 13

Last Monday was the first day of school. And to call the day one big long snafu is to use the initial meaning of the word, the original acronym for the word. It was the kind of day I can only encapsulate via a Thursday 13. 

ONE

I was very happy when an assignment for the week popped up the Friday before school began. I had a suspicion it was a vacant class from how the assignment was worded, and shortly after I accepted it, I got an email from Allie verifying that my suspicion was correct. Good news/bad news.

TWO

I arrived early Monday as I didn't know what sort of situation I'd be walking into. Good thing. Because no teacher was assigned to the classes, there was no way to access the attendance online. Allie (the secretary I check in with at the school) printed me paper rosters. And that was when I first got to see what my schedule was going to be. 

THREE

The vacant position was for the athletic director. Who was also teaching two periods of seventh grade success. (I knew the success part before I got there. The athletic director part was a surprise.) What were my responsibilities regarding the athletic director? I would need to touch base with the assistant principal who oversaw athletics. (Note: this did not happen.) 

FOUR

The good news: I didn't have a first period class. The bad news: the seventh graders were spending all day with their first period teacher in an orientation. (We did the same thing two years ago when I covered that maternity leave for the seventh grade science teacher.) Where was I supposed to be? Turns out, I had not been added to the list for the day, so I had no official responsibilities. 

FIVE

As I was figuring the day out, another teacher came into the classroom. She explained that she had just learned (the previous workday) that she would be teaching two periods of success this school year. She's a PE teacher. So, she was checking out the room to see what she had and what she would need. She would have the room for first and second periods while I would need it for third and fourth periods. Not a problem, just a surprise. 

SIX

Right before first period was to begin, Allie called me. A math/credit recovery teacher had taken ill and gone home. Could I cover his first period? Well, it's not like I had anything better to do. (For the full story about this class, see yesterday's post.) 

SEVEN

For third period, I returned to "my" classroom, but "my" third period would remain in their first period classes. I remained with the PE teacher's group. The PE teacher had her PE classes to cover for the rest of the day, but they had booked another teacher to come in to supervise the class. 

EIGHT

I got to see some of the orientation. We took a tour of the campus. In the heat. And while my presence was not needed, I learned what the students learned that day. I knew most of it, but now I knew what they were supposed to know. 

NINE

I asked Allie what my responsibility was for seventh period, the athletic period. She had told me she'd ask around and get back to me. For seventh period, she said to remain in the classroom. (The school is on a block schedule, so the first day was an odd day, periods 1, 3, 5, and 7.) 

TEN

I got to work on what I'd need for the next day (when I would for sure have a class). I was going to email Allie pages I needed printed (as I don't have printer access). Only, I suddenly had no access to my district email account and it's linked drive (where I keep all the material I need for class). I got an error message saying it was disabled. I've had this account for many, many years. WTF!

Before I could panic, Allie called to tell me I was supposed to be outside. (She had only just been informed.) I told her my account was disabled. She said she'd look into it. 

ELEVEN

On my way outside, I passed the basketball team heading for the classroom. I told them to come back outside, and I took roll. I was able to locate a few of the students from the soccer team, but most had left. (They were supposed to have practice, but something something coach not there something something missing bus. I didn't get full details.) I had several other teams' attendance, but they were nowhere to be found. 

TWELVE

End of day, I went to check out. I took the athletic director attendance to the attendance office. Allie informed me that they had restored my account. I went to check it, but I couldn't get online in the office. I asked Allie to print some things for me that I'd email her when I could. And then I went home.

THIRTEEN

Yes, I could access my account. Yay! I emailed Allie what I'd need for the next day. As I sat down to make sure I had my slides and such ready for Tuesday, my account again was disabled. Grrrr.

The next day I learned that they were doing something at district that was disabling accounts. I conferred with two other subs who had the same problem. Allie contacted district and got my account restored only to have it be blocked again that day. After class, luckily. Then Allie contacted the district again... At the moment my account works. Fingers crossed that that doesn't pop up again.

Missing Student

And so, I ended the school year not far from where it began. Literally. I started the school year in room 906 and ended it in room 915. (Both classrooms are within sight of one another.) 

Thursday. Seventh grade math. Fourth period. 

It was the last day of school. Each period was about 28 minutes long. The lesson plan was basically "do what you want". As I have been in this situation before, I knew I didn't have to have them do anything. 

What I did have to do was take roll and make sure I knew where the kiddos were. 

At the beginning of the period several students descended upon me to request permission to go elsewhere. I growled at them that they'd have to wait until I had taken attendance. 

(A science teacher three doors down must have been having a bacchanal as that's where everyone wanted to go. But there were a couple other teachers' classes they wanted as well as the art teacher--the one they hired for that vacant class--needed help cleaning her room.) 

I went around the room, checked in with each kiddo asking their name, and I marked each student present. Then I got the names of those who left, and I wrote them down so I knew where they were. 

Roll taken, I had a group of girls request to go outside so they could film a TikTok dance. Others had grouped up and were playing video games. I didn't much care so long as they didn't trash the room. 

Then the phone rang. Was Jamir there? 

I checked my roll. He was marked absent. No, he was not. 

"His mom is going to be pissed..." 

Just to be sure, I called out, "Jamir..." Nope. Not there. 

Groups of students were coming in and out of the room. (Teachers called to ask if they could send kiddos. I had given permission.) There was one boy in a Lakers jersey who I thought belonged in class, but he did not check in with me, and then he left again. 

Towards the end of the period (so, about fifteen minutes later), I went to check on the TikTok girls. Who should have been back in the room already. Security drove up and stopped the boy in the Lakers jersey. "Jamir, your mother is looking for you," and she gave him a paper. 

Security gave me a hard stare. "You're marked absent," she told him. I protested that he was not around when I took roll and he had not checked in with me when he arrived. 

I mean, seriously? I'm a sub. Most kiddos know to check in with me if they arrive after the bell. But last day crazy... 

I did fix the attendance. Growled at Jamir. He asked to go to his PE class. Well, now that I knew where he'd be... 

And just like that, the school year is over. 

Next week I'll share my year stats, and then the summer schedule shall begin. 

Arranging Chairs

Tuesday. Eighth grade history. Second period. 

It was finals week, but the eighth graders were done. I was to take roll and then escort them to the gym. So, that's what I did. 

Many of the eighth grade kiddos I had taught at the beginning of their seventh grade year in that science class. (And if you click on that link, the Mr. F I reference in the post is the teacher I was subbing for on this day.) It was kind of a full-circle moment for me. I liked getting just a small taste of the end of their middle school career as I had gotten the small taste of the beginning. 

Anyway, we were there to start promotion practice. Mr. S (yes, the same Mr. S as from the linked post) was getting them in the order they were to enter the gym for their actual promotion. And that took a while. 

Me and the other eighth grade teachers (who know who I am and knew that Mr. F was out) helped arrange chairs. Yes, chairs. They were all seated in the wrong arrangement, so as Mr. S called them up, they brought the folding chair they were sitting on, and those got put in the correct arrangement. 

Tedious. 

But that's how these things go. I didn't get to see any practice as the bell rang for the next period, and I had seventh graders, so I had to go back. 

The seventh graders (it was a leadership class) were making candy leis for the eighth grade promotion. I had been in this situation before, too. They were to make at least twenty. They made twenty. 

And then, the eighth graders returned to class for the last class of the day. To do nothing. Sigh. 

But I knew what I signed up for when I took that assignment. I am appreciated, though. Mr. F replied to my email about the day with, "With all the chaos of the day, I was really happy to see your name covering my class." 

Signing Shirts

Monday of the last week of school. Eighth grade English, co-taught. Fourth period. 

The eighth graders were done. Their grades had been submitted the prior Friday. Eighth grade promotion activities started Tuesday. So, the lesson for the day was a streamed movie. 

As it was a co-taught class, Ms. R was there. (I was subbing for the special ed teacher.) And she was really done with them. She wasn't going to permit them to sit next to their friends, but she was going to permit them to sign yearbooks. 

After going over the agenda for the rest of the week (she made sure to stress that the quicker they followed directions on Tuesday, the quicker they could be done with promotion practice), she put on the movie. 

A boy pulled out a red Sharpie...

The kiddos are not allowed to bring Sharpies to school. The kiddos have not made good choices with regards to where they write with that permanent ink marker. 

Ms. R, exasperated, reminded the kiddos that she had spent a lot of time at the beginning of the year warning them about having Sharpies at school. She was not in the mood to deal with it, though, so she told the boy to put it away. 

He explained that he brought it so that people could autograph his shirt. 

Okay, I might need to back up here a bit. It was tradition in my elementary school, and likely many of the elementary schools in the area, that on the last day of school, the sixth graders got to wear a white t-shirt that everyone could sign. I still have mine. Someplace. 

He was in a white t-shirt. In fact, there was a good portion of the class that were in white t-shirts that had various writings on them. (This is the first time I've seen it in the middle school.) Okay, then... 

So, people were signing shirts. A few of them had yearbooks, but more had shirts. (They were complaining about the price of the full-color, hardcover yearbooks. Their yearbooks were much nicer than my junior high yearbooks were.) 

I mean, it is a Title I school. I'm sure some couldn't afford the yearbooks. 

Finishing Up, Part 2

Friday. Middle school leadership. They were creating "mission statements". 

(The success classes a couple weeks ago were doing a similar assignment.)

I was to remind the eighth graders that this was their final and it was due that day. Their grades were due by 4:30 PM. I mean, some of them could probably afford a zero, but their grade would take at least a letter grade hit, I assume. 

(The seventh graders still had a week, but I don't think their teacher really wanted to grade the assignment twice.) 

And the kiddos? Pretty much worked on the assignment. This was a leadership class, after all. Student government. There are GPA requirements, besides the fact that a kiddo has to be pretty motivated to choose to run for an office and serve the year doing all the various activities that go along with that. 

Today is the actual last day of school. Whew. Made it another year. 

Reruns

We're at that time of year. Last week I did not cover a class I had not covered before this school year. I kind of needed that after the prior week. 

On Monday I caught an assignment at the adult transition center for the teacher I've covered a couple times this year. While there, a job popped up for Tuesday. After snagging it, I explained to the instructional assistants in class that I knew exactly what was going to happen. 

Ms. S coteaches with Ms. W. Ms. W was going to ask me to swap jobs for the day. She'd teach Ms. S's eighth grade math classes while I'd take over her fifth period success class and her seventh period learning center. 

And when I arrived at school on Tuesday? Exactly what I said would happen happened. (Ms. W's success class is very different from Ms. T's. How? Special ed. Ms. W has a smaller class and an instructional aide. That does make a world of difference.)

There were a couple surprises as I ended up covering an extra period, but that was also in the learning center. The learning center is an extra room where special ed kiddos can take a test in a separate setting (for those that need that, specified in their IEP). It's basically a period of me sitting and watching an empty room (although that class had a study hall type class and a whole math class came in to take a test). 

Wednesday I covered an economics class I had covered earlier in the year. Thursday I covered a special ed co-teacher who I covered for a week in February (and worked with when I did that long term two years ago). And Friday I covered that Spanish class that had a student teacher. 

When I say the bad days balance out, this is what I mean. Two weeks ago: brutal. Last week: cake. 

The Chills

Whenever I find myself dealing with a challenging class, the teacher usually says something about them being "good kids". Only once before has a teacher referred to a kiddo as "evil". (I don't know if I wrote about her at the time, but I had her in a class later. This student.) 

I have encountered another. 

Damien (alias picked for obvious reasons) was noted in the lesson plan as "he won't do any work, but he won't disrupt the class". 

Okay, then. Tuesday. Eighth period. Eighth grade success. 

They were working on a Mission Map. They were to figure out a mission statement (for their life, I guess) and their four pillars (ideals of some sort), and then they were to make a poster with this information. 

They were given a packet of work to go through with setting goals and figuring out where they wanted their life to go. (This is the end of the year, so it was kind of a culmination assignment going over stuff they've been talking about all year.) They had instructions online. Ms. T said she went over all the instructions the week prior, so they should have known what to do.

But eighth graders with a sub for a week. They played weaponized incompetence. 

So, I wasn't much watching Damien. I did note that his desk had brown marker all over it. And he clearly wasn't doing any work. As promised. 

Half way through the period I passed out poster board. They were to make a poster, after all, and while I did not expect them to start the poster yet, I wanted them to have the materials they'd need. 

I warned them that they would only get one sheet of poster paper. (Otherwise the middle schoolers will make a mistake and need another. Not all, but most of them will. This is not my first rodeo. I know how they work.) 

And while most of the kiddos continued with their packets, Damien folded his poster paper into little boxes, and then he proceeded to tear them into little cards. Okay, then... 

I had Damien in class again on Thursday. The first thing he did was to grab the bottle of glue... 

Oh, no. Absolutely not. 

I took that glue from him so fast. (I didn't know what he was going to do with it, but it wasn't going to be good.) Then I noticed he had a blue marker. I attempted to take that away from him... 

And that's when I saw it. He kind of growled at me. 

Not his marker, but I decided not to have that fight. 

I tried to get him on task. I mentioned that he had already destroyed his poster paper. "Oh, was that what it was for?" Someone wasn't listening when instructions were given. 

But, I did give him another packet. (I had extra.) He then did with that what he had done with the poster paper. 

We kind of looked at each other. Damien just looked at me... Yeah, I like to joke that eighth graders are evil, but it is a joke. I know they'll grow out of it. They really are good kids. But Damien... 

Before I could contemplate how to get the blue marker away from him so he didn't make a mess of the desk again, the school psychologist came in and asked to take him for counseling. 

Yeah, I was good with that. Sadly, he returned after a half hour. 

Damien did not do any work. But he did not sacrifice any small creatures, so a win? (And I was able to clean off the desk.) 

Success (the Class) 13

If I commented on your blog last week, I apologize. I wasn't entirely mentally there. It was a long, hard week in the eighth grade success class. I don't have a lot of good stories, but I have a lot of little things that happened. Which makes this the perfect time for a Thursday 13. 

ONE

The assignment was to make a Mission Map. They had instructions. They had resources online. Ms. T had discussed it the week before. (She said this in the lesson plans, and I believe her.) But they had no clue what to do. More likely, they weren't listening when Ms. T was instructing, and they weren't bothering to read through all the materials to figure it out. 

TWO

Ms. T said they were to leave their phones in a phone box that all the teachers at that school have for just that purpose. They've been doing this all year. But with me? They "got their phone taken away". They "didn't have a phone". Yet, I saw many of them had a phone in their pockets.

I got irritated with this, so I took pictures of the mostly empty phone box each period. And I emailed them to the teacher. Petty, but I don't care. 

THREE

Beginning of seventh period, Monday. I warned students should be in their assigned seats. They said they were. I knew they were not as one of the kiddos I knew, and he was not in the seat indicated with his name on the seating chart. When I called him out on it, four other students suddenly knew where they were supposed to sit, too. (Names were noted.) 

FOUR

The fire alarm went off. Seventh period. As this is not the school where this happens frequently, the kiddos all ran out the door. We barely got down the stairs when an assistant principal shooed us back to class. False alarm. 

FIVE

Allergy season? Colds? Or an excuse... In sixth period they managed to go through a box of tissue as several boys kept getting up to go "blow their nose" outside. In groups. Every couple minutes. (I made a blanket rule that only one person could blow their nose at a time, that's how crazy that got.) 

SIX

Sixth period, Tuesday. Blake asked to use the restroom. (After refusing to sit in his assigned seat and giving me a false name.) He was on the escort list, so I called for security to escort him. He left before they arrived. And then he returned with popcorn. Sigh. (And acted clueless when I told him he was supposed to wait for an escort.)

SEVEN

Third period, Wednesday. Fire alarm went off. I figured it was another false alarm, but no. We evacuated. (Someone *ahem* didn't grab the evacuation stuff: roll sheet, sign, backpack, because she assumed it was a false alarm.) And that was a very long walk for someone who was already feeling the week. At least most of them made it back to the classroom before me. (That's good.) The three that took their time... Well, that's what detailed notes to the teacher are for.

EIGHT

Seventh period. A girl got a hold of one boy's paper, and was very loud about how she could not read it. They passed around the paper. Passed it to me. (Yeah, the writing was bad, but most of their writing is bad. It wasn't out of the ordinary bad.) Announced to the class that the boy had bad writing. And that he really needed to work on it. 

NINE

On Thursday and Friday they had guest speakers. Apparently, the state of California has a fund for students to use as a scholarship fund, and the speakers were walking them through claiming the accounts. 

Sixth period was embarrassing. You'd think they'd know how to behave for a guest, but no. Getting up for no reason. Not listening. Talking over the speakers. Yeah, it didn't go well. 

TEN

There were two kiddos who were tasked with making sure the Chromebooks were all plugged in at the end of the day. Odd day monitor did an excellent job. Even day monitor... Sigh. And I like this kid. Had him in the art class. He'll mature eventually, but right now he's giving in to his baser impulses. (Although, he had the best reaction to how much money he had in his CalKIDS account: "I've never seen that much money before in my life". It was about $1500.) 

ELEVEN

Joaquin, one of my problem kiddos in period one (see yesterday), asked for his work during first period Friday. I assumed he was not eligible for the CalKIDS scholarship, so I was going to send him out of class so as to not disturb the others with the presentation. One of the presenters: "He's eligible". Then why was he ignoring...? Free money for college...? Did he do what he needed to do to claim the money? Nope.

TWELVE

Third period, a student disappeared. Not to restroom (as I was keeping an eye on them). I stepped outside to see, but he was not there blowing his nose. He returned a bit later. Where was he? Oh, he had just gone to take something to his history teacher without asking permission. (I think the history teacher was next door, but still!)

THIRTEEN

If this was a Thursday 20 I could make it work. It was a hard week. I emailed all of this (plus what I couldn't include) to Ms. T. I received a reply. I don't think the kiddos are going to enjoy the consequences. 

Within the first day I learned that the kiddos were being bribed. For a good note they were going to get a pizza party. Most of the kiddos knew that they were not getting a pizza party. (Some tried to get me to "write a good note". I explained that I write an accurate note. It's good if they choose to be good.) 

Ms. T has a note on her board: Be Good Humans. Hopefully they will be. Just not with a sub last week.

Stupid Eighth Grade Games

I caught a week-long assignment in an eighth grade success class. And it was as bad as I anticipated. Oh well. 

Ms. T left me a packet of instructions with students who were likely to be issues and places to send them to. Many of the kiddos I had met in other classes, starting with that vacant art class at the beginning of the year. 

First period. Monday. 

Six boys spent the period in play mode. 

If I wasn't spending the period putting out (figurative) fires, I would have written down a list of their random conversations. They were at various parts of the room, so their conversations involved the whole class. And nothing would make them settle. 

So, when I had them again on Wednesday, I had a hair trigger. (The school is on a block schedule, so each period meets every other day.) 

Class hadn't quite started when Royce dropped an f-bomb loud enough for me to hear it. I didn't hear the conversation, but Royce had spent Monday joking with Antonio, and that was a good enough reason to send him out of class. (A neighboring teacher had offered to take a kiddo if need be.) 

Once Royce was gone, Ignacio started in. Well, not started. He sat in a corner, and he didn't do all that much. I had had him in the art class, and in the times I've seen him since then, he's only behaved worse. He was on Ms. T's list of students to look out for, and I was already irritated. So, out Ignacio went. 

As Ignacio was packing up, Joaquin decided it was a good time to start a rock-paper-scissors competition with Ignacio. I went to stand between them. Joaquin tilted a little so he could continue to see Ignacio on the other side of me. Okay, then, Joaquin just volunteered to go, too. 

I told Joaquin to go to the room directly below the one we were in. At this point Joaquin remembered he was on the escort list. (A fact he denied on Monday.) He refused to leave the room without an escort. 

Luckily, I had already called one for Ignacio (who was being sent to the in-house detention room), so I just asked her to escort Joaquin downstairs. She agreed. 

Three down. The class got very quiet. 

Then, Antonio started to talk... 

Me: "Do you want to work in another class, too?" 

I had three more classrooms to send kiddos to. 

Antonio wisely decided that that conversation was not one he wanted to have. 

It was amazing how peaceful things got once they were gone. Well, for a little while. 

The students complained of some high pitched tone. "Can't you hear that?" 

I didn't hear a thing. I closed the door. They said it didn't help. 

That's when I remembered the tones that only teenagers can hear. I spent a class period playing the tones several years back. 

So, I mentioned that someone was probably playing tones on their Chromebook that only the kiddos in the room could hear. As I am old, I was deaf to it. 

Kiddos were plugging their ears. Complaining. But as I couldn't hear it, I couldn't determine where it was coming from. 

The kiddo managed to annoy their classmates and their classmates only. 

I sat back. Watched for issues I could deal with. 

The kiddo must have decided that me not reacting at all wasn't any fun. The rest of the class no longer seemed to have an issue with a noise that I could not hear. 

Not too terrible. Sadly, Friday did not go as smoothly. 

(I'm writing this Sunday afternoon. I already got an email response from Ms. T. She is not pleased. The kiddos aren't going to be having a nice time upon her return to class.) 

The Conversation

Thursday. Eighth grade math, special day class. Eighth period. 

To start every class, Mr. R has them do "Good Things". This is special ed, so the classes are small, so each student gets a turn. 

When it was Alonzo's turn, all I heard was something about going on a cruise. Well, that's cool. Only, as Alonzo continued speaking, the explanation went into Hantavirus and something about bombing the ship... 

Eighth graders... 

We moved on from Alonzo and finished Good Things, but when it was time for them to start working on their math, Alonzo circled back to Hantavirus. 

He had all the questions. I have not been following the news. I heard part of a report in passing about a cruise ship and Hantavirus, and that's really all I know. I suppose I could have looked this up, but they had math to work on, and I wasn't in the mood to humor Alonzo with this random topic. 

Alonzo? He found other topics to discuss with his classmates. Because I was of a mind to, I listed as many of the topics as I could for their teacher as they happened. As the topic changed, I added to the list. The list wasn't exhaustive, though, as some things were said in passing that I felt didn't merit inclusion on the list, and some things I just didn't get. 

So, what do eighth grade boys discuss when they should be doing math? 

• Hantavirus: Alonzo really couldn't let this go.
• History class assignment roles: apparently their history teacher had assigned them roles for some Civil War project. One boy was a spy. One boy was a slave. And the third boy's role was kind of unclear. There was a long conversation about how they liked/did not like their roles and how things got assigned.
• McDonald's: this was a weird ramble about food that turned into some VR chat that was McDonald's based. I was again unclear on what exactly they were talking about. 
• Tigger: yes, the tiger in Winnie the Pooh. This was more a rhyming thing where they did go there (starts with N...), but they were also wondering if they got the correct name for the tiger in Winnie the Pooh. 
• TikTok Challenges: they went from Tide Pods to a bunch I'd never heard of. 
• Mall food: food is always a popular topic. It ended up being a thing about various things they could get, and then Alonzo said he could also get food when he went to the mall for something else. Somehow this segued into how Alonzo needed to go to the bookstore to pick up a new book coming out (the kiddos were amazingly well-read). 
• Fake dice: they acted like they were playing craps. Without dice. For about a minute. 
• "Why are you rubbing your belly?" He was not rubbing his belly. 
• Movies: Hoppers and Project Hail Mary. They liked both. 
• Someone started whistling.
• "Jesse called some girl 'slave'", which then turned into Alonzo saying that he could say all sorts of career-ruining things about Jesse. 
• Alonzo said that some teacher said that because he did something with his thumbs, that he was double jointed.
• Alonzo pulled out some money and a receipt he had. The receipt got passed around. The money was counted. (After they left, I found a nickel on the floor.) 
• Somehow the money led to them talking about various gum flavors. Mostly listing and stating whether they liked them.
• Video games: a brief mention of some games they liked.
• They circled back to Tigger and words that rhyme with it.
• Kool-Aid pickles: and then pickles in general. 
• Six... seven... Yes, sadly, that's still a thing, and it just pops up at random times.
• And then some sidetrack into Zuckerberg. Why? I have no idea.

So, you won't be surprised that I rated the class as "some made better use of their time than others" and that I doubted they had finished their assignments. Because, seriously? 

Zzzzzz

Thursday. Seventh grade Spanish I for Spanish Speakers. Eighth period. 

They had a student teacher, so the class went on as normal. For this day, the students were doing oral presentations on various Central and South American countries. In Spanish. 

The student teacher taught the class in Spanish. 

I may have mentioned before that the language I took in school was French. 

So, yeah, I wasn't understanding a whole lot of what was going on. I mean, I got the gist, but I definitely didn't get the specifics. 

I may have also mentioned that I write about what happened last week, so this happened on April 30th. As it was the last day of the A to Z Challenge, I had distracted myself all day by reading blogs. But by eighth period I had completed that. 

And there's just something about sitting there while the kiddos were going through slides about Cuba, speaking in Spanish way better than I could ever attempt, that did not help my drowsiness. 

Sometimes, before bed, I'll play on my phone or I'll read. And there's that point where I kind of blank out, and when I go back and try to continue what I was doing, I'll realize I'm not comprehending anything I'm doing, and it's time to put that all aside and go to sleep. This is what I was feeling while in that eighth period class. 

Not good.

While I was not actively teaching, I was still there as an observer. (It's a legal thing. Since the student teacher isn't employed by the district, a district employee needs to be present.) And I was fading, fast. 

I needed something to wake me up. I checked my email. I flipped through some catalogs. I worked on the note to the teacher (which was largely unneeded because the student teacher would see her the next day). 

Even the fidgety seventh graders couldn't keep my attention. (And they were not behaving well.) 

Did I fall asleep? No. Well... I took a lot of micro naps. I definitely blanked out, many times, but not for long at all each time. 

Not ideal, but somehow I managed to stay mostly awake. 

(I did not stay up too late the night before, and I had gotten a good night's sleep. I should not have been that tired. But some days...)

Yikes, Kiddos

Monday. Middle school intro to culinary. Fourth period. 

(Yeah, it's called "culinary" not cooking and not home ec. Weird, I know.)

The assignment for the day was a worksheet where they had to convert measurements with a pirate theme. That is, there would be a question about storing fish in a barrel (so the pirates had food provisions) and asking how many fish (or how many barrels) and converting from pints to quarts. Or tablespoons to cups. Or gallons to pints. 

The questions made sense. And I thought it was a very clever busywork assignment for the kiddos for the day. 

But middle schoolers...

Yeah, they didn't like this assignment one bit. 

Since I have the science/math background, I understood what they needed to do. And I offered my help to those who asked for it. Some did ask for it.

And then I caught Irene writing on a paper that was not hers. 

Damian spent the period whining. The work was hard. Why did he have to do this? He didn't understand. 

But, did he ask for help? Even when I stood there offering? Of course not. 

Irene? Was writing the answers on Damian's paper. 

No, Irene. Damian must do his own work. But she didn't see my point. Nor did Damian. 

A student asked to use the restroom. I had another girl, Nina, out. When she got back... "But she doesn't come back when there's a sub..." She doesn't? 

Okay, then, time to call security. Nina returned, 25 minutes after she left. In passing I mentioned that I had already added Nina's excursion to my note to the teacher. Suddenly, Nina was apologetic. Could I please leave her name out of the note? Yeah, now she's sorry, now that she knows she'll be held accountable. 

Students taking forever to "go to the restroom" has become ridiculous this school year, so I've been keeping track of how long everyone goes and leaving that information for the teacher. Every day. And especially when I have to call security. 

Then I look up, and Damian is chasing Irene. And I can't get over to stop them as there are a bunch of kiddos standing between me and them. Standing? They had work. There was no reason for them to be out of their seats. 

Yikes. It was quite the class. 

The period after this? Totally mellow and on task. Sigh.

Did you take cooking in school? Do you like to cook? 

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

Taking Down the Notes

Wednesday. Eighth grade English, co-taught. Seventh period.

I was in for Mr. S, the special ed teacher. Ms. R, the general ed teacher, was present, so the class proceeded as normal. And on this day, they were reading the play, The Diary of Anne Frank. 

(I have covered this class before, this year even.) 

Ms. R got them started. They were in the middle of Act 1, Scene 2. 

My job was to make sure the kiddos were following along. Which they were. So, I roamed around the back of the room, looking for issues. 

I knew Oscar was going to be an issue. 

Students had been assigned parts, so the reading went fairly smoothly. Mostly, the kiddos were following along and read when it was their turn. Occasionally a student would lose their place, but that's normal. 

Then, Ms. R would pause them to discuss what had just happened. There were nuances that the kiddos weren't picking up on as they don't tend to closely pay attention. So, Ms. R pointed out some of the conflict going on between Anne and her mother. She explained how Anne was more outgoing while her sister, Margot, was more reserved. And such.

While Ms. R was discussing, she reminded the kiddos that they were to be taking notes. 

They had sheets in front of them. There was a column entitled Plot. And a second column with Characterization, Conflict, and Setting. 

As Ms. R discussed how Anne was reacting to something, she pointed out that this was something that would work for Characterization. When she mentioned Anne getting upset at her mother, she pointed out that this was Conflict. And so on. 

Oscar? Yeah, not writing anything. 

I went over to point out that while Ms. R was talking, he should be taking notes. Problem: he had no pencil. 

I told him to ask Ms. R for one (as I don't normally carry supplies). I walked away. He got Ms. R's attention. They discussed something, but I could tell it was not about acquiring a pencil. Ms. R went back to instructing the class. 

At the next discussion point, I found Oscar had a pencil. But now his neighbor did not. She informed me that Oscar had taken her pencil. Oscar said he got the pencil from Ms. R. I watched them. Ms. R had not given Oscar a pencil. So, I made Oscar give the pencil back to his neighbor.

Oh, while Oscar had the pencil, did he write down any notes? Of course not. 

At the next break, Oscar did, in fact, ask Ms. R for a pencil, and she gave him one. So, I wandered over. Was Oscar writing notes? Of course not. 

Was the rest of the class taking down notes? Yes, mostly. There was one boy who wasn't. He claimed he was reading the play so he couldn't take down notes. And yet, when Ms. R would break to discuss, was he writing then? But he was in the minority. 

I stopped going over to check on Oscar. He wasn't trying. If he was just having trouble figuring out what to write, I could have helped him with that. But he was just playing.

Class over, and they left. I said something to Ms. R. Her response: just like every day. Yup. Oscar did this every day. 

Ms. R was a bit perplexed, though. She said that something happened in January. In January and February, Oscar was actually doing well. Attentive. Turning in work. She made him her student of the month for January. And then, sometime in March, he went back to this. 

Deep sigh. 

That Oscar did improve is good news. I wonder what made him revert. I wonder if he'll improve again. He's an eighth grader. He's bound to mature. Eventually. 

What would you guess Oscar's problem is? Do you prefer to write in pen or pencil?

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

Behaved Well, Actually

While I was happy to work, I kind of was dreading the day. 

Friday. Eighth grade science. 

Science is my jam, but eighth graders... My tag for days with the eighth graders (8RE) is code for "eighth graders are evil". Because they can be. 

And then... 

They went and surprised me. 

The day's assignment was an animal adaptations project. They picked an animal. Then they were to find three adaptations that help the critter survive... 

Student: Can I pick a unicorn?

Me: No mythical creatures, please.

They were to draw a picture. Write about three of the critter's adaptations. Illustrate the critter's closest relative. And they had the whole period to do this. 

And you know what? They actually did the work. 

(Well, mostly. I had a couple kiddos who played more than they worked. But that happens everyday. It would have been weird if I didn't have a couple of those kiddos.) 

There was a good selection of animals picked. They went from axolotls to sharks to sloths to horses. Orson had a meltdown until I calmed him by mentioning different animals he could pick. And most of them finished or nearly finished the project in class. 

Now, can all my days with the eighth graders be like that? Please? 

If you could do a project on a mythical creature, which one would you pick? I think I'd go with a dragon. 

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

Seventh Grade

Thursday. Seventh grade math. First period. 

It was a co-taught class, and I was subbing for the special ed teacher, so Ms. G ran her class as usual. The topic for the day was percentages. 

Ms. G explained the formula to them, gave examples, gave them a chance to try some problems, went over those problems so the kiddos knew what to do, and then she gave them problems to work on. Typical math class. 

And typical seventh graders. 

One boy just sat there, kind of staring off into space. Ms. G was doing notes, and he wasn't copying down what she was writing. When I tried to get him to do something, he said he didn't know what to do. Well, start with copying the notes she was demonstrating for him. That's a good place to start. 

Seventh graders think they can talk and work. What they end up doing is going off on tangents and getting no work done. So, while they were allowed to "work together", they weren't getting as much done as they could. 

Well, at least I could help them when they needed it. Mostly. And for a seventh grade class, they weren't too horrible. 

Observed

Thursday. Eighth grade math, special ed. Third period.

It was a complete-the-online-assignment day, and half the class said they were already done. (On a newly-assigned assignment? Not likely.) I noted who said they were done and left that information for the teacher. 

The phone rang. It was the health office letting me know they were sending over someone to observe the kiddo in the class who already had a one-to-one aide, but they didn't want the student to know. Something about a seizure disorder. 

I don't question when staff shows up in class. We have various observers for various things all the time. One day the new principal showed up while I was doing something with a class. I didn't know who he was or why he was there, but he was with another staff member I did know, so I kept doing what I was doing. Another time, the new district superintendent showed up in class. Again, she was with a staff member I did know. And again, I kept doing what I was doing until we had a moment to talk. 

So, when the staff member, who I did recognize from seeing around campus, showed up, I just kept doing what I was doing. (Read: watching the kiddos play games on their computers rather than do the assignment.) 

But, now there were two other adults watching one kiddo. And they questioned what he was supposed to be doing. So, he dutifully found the actual assignment. And then got stuck. 

Well, that part was my job. 

They were turning word problems into equations. It wasn't too hard, but the kiddos were having trouble deciphering whether they needed to add, subtract, multiply, or divide. 

The kiddo did not have any seizures while in class. (They don't usually.) But at least he got some math done. 

The Stench

Tuesday. Seventh grade English. Sixth period.

The day had gone pretty well. But the instructional assistant warned me of one kiddo in period six. His seat was separate from the class for reasons. Okay, then. 

As I was getting the class going, the IA reminded Enzo of where his seat was. In the back, next to the door. I recognized Enzo; he had been in the art class (well, likely still is). 

The class settled into the assignment. They were reading something and answering questions. But laughter floated from Enzo's corner of the room. The table near to Enzo was enjoying Enzo's antics. Deep sigh. 

But then, that section of the room erupted in exclamations of horror. Enzo had farted, and they did not like the smell. I did the only thing I could. I ignored this. 

Enzo asked to use the restroom. 

Later, when the class had calmed down, and the table near Enzo seemed to be working, Enzo asked if he could go outside. 

My initial answer: no. But then I considered.

So, I went over to Enzo and asked him why. Yeah, he needed to fart again. 

Yes, please, take that nonsense outside. 

Enzo got no work done. If he had spent half the energy doing the assignment that he spent avoiding the assignment, he would have been done. But no. 

Alas, some of them never learn that particular lesson. 

At least we didn't have a repeat of the stench from earlier in the period. 

Unsettled

Thursday. Eighth grade English, co-taught. 

I was expecting a two sub day, but nope, Ms. C was there, like the last time I covered this class, just a couple weeks ago. 

They were doing the district writing assessment. Every quarter every student is required to write an essay. The prompts are standardized by grade level. They're given some source material (usually articles, but sometimes videos), and then they have some sort of question to answer. 

For this essay, the eighth graders were writing an argumentative essay on the media. (They could choose pro or con.) 

This was day two of the essay, and Orson had taken over the couch in the back of the room, stretched out. He had a computer with a game on it. Okay, then, Orson had finished the essay. 

The rest of the class, however... 

Ms. C gave them instructions. They basically already knew what to do. Ms. C had already explained the structure, and they'd been over things like citing evidence and creating a hook. Then Ms. C took a group of the students to work in another room, leaving me alone with the remaining group. All they had to do was to start writing...

Yeah, no.

While I hovered, helping those that had questions (mostly things to get started), the rest of the class started talking. And got louder... 

Then a boy arrived, late. He joined two others at the front of the room, and those three got into play mode. 

As I tried to figure out who the late boy was and settle the class, Cedric suggested that I adjust their seats. (Cedric was the boy from this day, unnamed the the post, but he was the one who played that entire period, at least until he left and had to be shooed back by security.) 

Just when I thought I was going to lose the class, Ms. C returned. And the whole class settled. Sigh.

(She apologized for being gone so long. There was a group of eighth graders roaming the school, including the boy who arrived late, and she was helping the principal corral them.) 

The three boys at the front? Ms. C stationed herself in front of them, and they still needed constant redirecting. 

And before you ask, one of the boys was not supposed to be sitting there, but Ms. C let him when the late boy wasn't there. Then when the late boy appeared she just left it like that rather than disrupt things during assessment essay time to move him. 

Ms. C told me that was her worst class. Me: "Really? I couldn't tell..." 

Returned

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

First period. Tuesday. 

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

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

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

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

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

Escort list? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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