A Reading Lesson

Tuesday of the week before Thanksgiving, I had nothing. (I saved my subbing stories for when I was back at work.) I had the rest of the week booked, but not Tuesday. I just missed catching two assignments during the school day Monday, and as I was leaving school for the day, I was trying to accept that I might not work that Tuesday. 

Then, just as I was pulling out of my parking space, my phone alerted. I grabbed that assignment so fast... 

Tuesday. Senior English. Co-taught. 

Since it was a late(erish) call out, the general ed teacher taught the class as planned. (Even if it had been longer planned, I think Ms. U would have just kept on with the plan for the day anyway.) They were getting ready to start a new book, and they were doing the prelim work for it. 

Me? I sat at the back of the room, unneeded. 

The lesson went off very smoothly. The students were attentive when Ms. U was instructing, and they actually discussed what she asked them to discuss as the period wore on. (I know this as I walked the room then, listening in. I didn't have to prompt them.) 

This is not normally the sort of day that makes the blog. The only reason I'm mentioning it is because of what they were going to be reading...

A comic book. A graphic novel. This one: Hawkeye: My Life as a Weapon.

It was fascinating. Ms. U had the class do notes on the superhero genre. What were the expectations? What sorts of stories are usually told in this medium? How does one read a comic book, anyway? 

She used terminology (frame, gutter, etc.). She had them write about what they knew of this type of story. She explained how they were to look at the various panels and how to compare panel sequences. 

I learned a lot. 

I would have loved a lesson like this when I was their age. Graphic novels have come a long way. 

As I was looking up the graphic novel so I could link to it, I found it on YouTube. In case you're interested, this is for the first story in the graphic novel. (It contains five. The class was only going to read the first two or three, time permitting.) 

Ms. U got them started with the first couple pages. She hinted about how they'd also be learning about subverting expectations. 

No Spoilers

Monday. Seventh period. 

It was the end of the period. The kiddos had put away their Chromebooks and were lining up at the door. 

Elliot: "Oh my god! Chapter seven..."

The eleventh grade English classes are reading The Great Gatsby. I may have mentioned this once or twice. On Monday, they had a quiz on the first three chapters. And then we started reading chapter four together. 

However, some students are reading ahead. I'm not sure why as we will be reading the whole thing together, but whatever. I'm not going to stop them. 

Elliot's been a chapter or so ahead for over a week. He was kind of bragging how far ahead he was. But this day, he was blown away by the events of chapter seven. 

And... Well... Yeah. I'm not giving spoilers for those of you who may be tempted to read it. But here's a link to the chapter summary for those of you who would like a reminder or aren't worried about spoilers. Anyway, chapter seven is a humdinger of a chapter. 

I nodded in understanding. Dennis, who sits next to Elliot, was also a bit blown away, as he said he looked over at what Elliot was reading. Elliot pointed out that Dennis really needed to read the prior chapters as they set the scene for chapter seven. 

"Just don't spoil it for the rest of the class, please," I asked. 

Elliot: "Oh no. I want to see their reaction when they read it." 

Me too, actually. 

Although, considering how bland their expressions are, I rather think they won't visibly react. We'll see. 

As for the quiz, they did pretty well. So, maybe they're not reacting, but it seems like they're following along with the plot just fine. 

The Giggles

Wednesday. Eighth period. 

We were reading chapter three of The Great Gatsby. Or, rather, I had put on audio of the book while they followed along with the narrator. And every so often I'd pause the reading to comment on something that I thought they'd miss otherwise. 

Some things I know they didn't know, like when a character mentions that the pages of some books weren't cut. I didn't know that people would cut open pages while reading books back in the day, so I knew they didn't know that. 

And then there was the car accident scene. 

It's pretty clear on the page what is happening. A very drunk driver hit a wall and his car was so badly damaged a wheel was sheared from the car. No longer drivable. But the driver was so drunk that no one could get him to understand this. 

I mean, terrible scene and all, but the way it's written I find extremely funny. I assume that was the intent. 

But, the way it was written, one has to be paying attention, and one has to infer some things that aren't explicitly on the page. And teenagers? Yeah, most aren't following that closely. 

Every period I made sure to stop and point out what was happening. I know they weren't getting it as I heard no chuckles. No snorts. No intimation that anyone was laughing. I mean, these kiddos don't react much at all, but even correcting for this, there was still no way they were getting it. 

Then, eighth period, my fourth time through the scene, I broke. We read through...

"Wha's matter?" he inquired calmly. "Did we run outa gas?"

"Look!"

Half a dozen fingers pointed at the amputated wheel—he stared at it for a moment and then looked upward as though he suspected that it had dropped from the sky.

"It came off," some one explained.

He nodded.

"At first I din' notice we'd stopped."

A pause. Then, taking a long breath and straightening his shoulders he remarked in a determined voice:

"Wonder'ff tell me where there's a gas'line station?"

At least a dozen men, some of them little better off than he was, explained to him that wheel and car were no longer joined by any physical bond.

"Back out," he suggested after a moment. "Put her in reverse."

"But the wheel's off!"

He hesitated.

"No harm in trying," he said.

And it was the "wheel and car were no longer joined by any physical bond" that got me. I was explaining, and I couldn't hold it any longer. I began to laugh. And then the laughter just took over. I couldn't stop. 

I've had moments where something struck me as so funny I couldn't stop laughing. Usually I'm alone. Sometimes I'm with others who find it just as funny. This time? Yeah, all of them looked at me like I'd lost my mind. 

So, I hit play on the audio while I got the giggles out. A joke explained is a joke lost. Even if they didn't find it funny, at least I was able to convey that the guy was so drunk he didn't understand what was going on. I hope. 

At least I'm enjoying the book. They aren't. I mean, they're really too young. So many of the nuances of the story you can't really get until you've lived a bit. 

You'd get it. You might be surprised at how much better the book is when you've experienced more of life than a teenager has. 

Zonked

Tuesday. Eleventh grade English, eighth period. 

(I was kind of loath to reuse this title. But when I went looking for the last time I used it, I found that I had used "Zilch" twice and "Zizi Rho Designs" three times. And Z. So, I'm going to go with it.) 

We got back from spring break on Monday. Tuesday we started state testing. While most of the high school doesn't have to participate, the eleventh graders do. 

They set up a special schedule for testing. Testing started at the usual start of the school day. Those not testing (the ninth, tenth, and twelfth graders) didn't have to even come to school until after the testing block. The testing block was two hours. 

The lesson plan for the day? We finally got to start reading The Great Gatsby. (For the two weeks before spring break we did lots of anticipatory activities.)

Have you ever read The Great Gatsby? Do me a favor and read the first page. Real quick. I'll wait...

Um, yeah. It's a little dense, especially for eleventh graders. 

So, I took my time, stopping a lot and explaining what was going on. (We would have easily finished chapter one if I didn't stop as much as I did.) 

And the class? Eighth period? Yeah, they were zonked. 

I saw heads on desks. I wasn't getting much in the way of feedback when I invited comments. 

Not shocked. And okay with it, really. Considering everything. The book takes a couple chapters to really get going, and they'll be more into it then. 

I hope. 

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

Vanished

Seventh grade English, sixth period. As it was a Monday (with half hour periods), they had a silent reading day. (Don't even get me started on the Monday schedule. Having the kiddos read silently is probably the best use of the day that there is.)

The day had been going pretty well (for a Monday where it rained all day). I had had one difficult group (of eighth graders), but otherwise the day had been going pretty smoothly. 

And sixth period was going pretty well as well. 

Once they got settled they (mostly) silently read. (They were seventh graders. A few needed a bit more persuading to focus on their books.) With intro time and settling down time, they probably had fifteen-ish minutes of reading time.

Then they had a reading log to complete. I let them know when it was time to fill it in. (They were just noting what pages they read with a brief summary.) As the semester has just started, I had passed out their new logs during the intro time.

I had placed the stack of reading log copies on a front desk so I had easy access to it. On that desk I also had the class roster and a Chromebook. (I had a couple slides with the agenda for the day projected on the in-class TV.) 

As sixth period was leaving, something felt wrong about that front desk. That's when I realized. The stack of reading logs had vanished. (The computer and class roster were still there, though.) 

I had one more period. Where had the copies gone? 

I looked everywhere. In the trash cans. Under the desks. In the teacher's refrigerator. On any available surface in the classroom. They were nowhere.

(I looked outside for trash cans, but none were close enough to the classroom for me to check without leaving the classroom unattended.) 

There was nothing for it. I got seventh period settled and reading, but when it was time to do their logs, I let them know that they'd have to get those pages from their teacher later. Deep sigh.

I ran into the teacher later in the week. The copies had been left in the back of the classroom in a spot that I was sure I had looked. 

Next time I'll keep a better eye on the copies. 

Seventh graders. *shakes head*

Making Me Look Good

Seventh grade English. Third period. 

The assignment: read an article about gladiators as a class. (Then they had questions to answer.) 

Reading... Well, it can be a challenge. I had one boy who at first read as if he couldn't read (but clearly it was an act as his pauses were way too regular) and then he read with an accent (that varied). 

Then I get to deal with the students who are all, "Where are we?" when they get called on. (The paragraphs were clearly numbered, and yet I'd have to repeat what paragraph we were on multiple times.) 

All the while, other students would be talking, so I'd have to shush them and wait for them to bring their attention back to the task at hand. 

(I so prefer when teachers have them read things on their own. I understand why reading together is better, as some of them clearly need the practice. Then many of them won't do the reading and will delve directly into the questions. But it's always a battle as we don't have the trust and relationship that they have with their regular teacher.) 

So, we were in the midst of it when two adults walked into the room. 

This happens. Counselors will appear to pull out a student. Same with security. Administration will pop in to do a dress code check. Another teacher might be looking for the teacher I'm covering. 

I recognized one as a teacher I've covered a few times (who is not teaching this year but doing some administrative stuff). The other I had not seen before.

But, the entire class got quiet. And attentive. 

Score!

We finished off a paragraph, and the two left. 

"Who were they?" the students asked. 

I gave them Ms. M's name, but I admitted I did not know the man. 

Class went back to how it was before the visit.

As I left for the day, the man came up to say hi and introduce himself.

He's the principal.

(The school has a new principal this year. He had been hired from outside the district, so I hadn't encountered him before this. I generally know the administrators. Really, I do.)

At least the class behaved at the moment I needed them to. 

Classes don't always make me look good when the principal comes around, but sometimes I luck out. 

Unexpected Knowledge

Have you heard of Nellie Bly?

Eighth grade English. The students were reading chapter 4 from her book Ten Days in the Madhouse. They have a textbook that contains various readings, and the current unit is on suspense. 

Because eighth graders, I decided it would be a good idea to give them a little context. Each reading has an introduction, so we read that, and then I went about explaining (just a bit) about who she was.

Only, it turned out that was unnecessary. 

Often, I'm surprised at what they don't know. This time, I was surprised by what they did.

Upon further questioning, I gleaned that last school year they had had a project where they researched a historical figure. Some of them chose Nellie Bly. They had to do a presentation. Some of them remembered seeing a classmate's presentation on her. 

It was only two or three students each class who remembered. But that was two or three more students than I expected. 

Technical Issues

One of the great things to come out of these times is having the school work all on computers. One of the terrible things to come out of these times is having the school work all on computers. 

It's really nice to have them log on and find assignments formatted exactly how they're used to seeing them from their teacher. And the teacher can see what they did right away. 

But that's supposing the students have a computer. 

The schools checked out computers to all the students. But at one of the high schools they don't have any spares. 

Monday. Sixth period. Tenth grade world history. 

Sheldon informed me that his computer was broken. He had tried to replace it, but no replacements were available. 

Ms. G is one of the strict ones. I had had silent classes all day. I didn't want a disruptor, so I asked Sheldon if he had something to work on. 

He did not. 

I pointed out that Sheldon was going to get awfully bored with nothing to do. Did he have a book to read, at least? 

Oh no. Sheldon claimed he was illiterate. 

I didn't believe him, and I told him so. He argued that he had managed to hide this... I didn't hear the whole explanation, and I'd stopped following along. 

I told Sheldon that I've covered classes where the students truly couldn't read. 

Throughout this discussion, other students chimed in with, "Just ignore him," and, "He's always like this". 

Yeah, he seemed the type. 

The girl sitting behind him pulled out The Count of Monte Cristo from her backpack and handed it to him. He again (to the girl) claimed illiteracy and complained the book had no pictures. 

The girl wasn't having it, either. 

She and the rest of the class had their computers out at this point and were working. 

With no audience, Sheldon opened the book. And, presumably, read. For the whole period. I think. I mean, I saw him turn pages. I assume that means he was reading. 

When I called time to clean up, he handed the book back to the girl so fast... 

Sheldon had a working computer in class the next day. (I was in the class for three days.) 

Caught His Attention

The last class of the day is "credit recovery". I only have one student, Brandon. He's making up English 9. 

Our schools do social promotion, so even if a student fails their classes in ninth grade, they go on to tenth. But they don't graduate unless they've passed all their required courses. Credit recovery classes are available for those students who failed a course and need to retake it.

Credit recovery generally means Odyssey. At least, that's the way they do it at the continuation high school. And that's what the kiddos do at the traditional high schools for the credit recovery classes that are offered before and after school. 

After a couple days in class, it was clear that Brandon wasn't doing any work in Odyssey. He slept a lot of the time. (And he's not easy to wake. I ended up having to smash my water bottle on his desk. This was after I had tried calling his name, knocking on his desk, and shaking him by the shoulder.) And even though I offered to do the assignments with him, he spent most of his awake time watching videos online. 

Last Thursday he walked in with a book. 

He flipped through this book. He was going to get to the class work "in a minute", but he just wanted to look at the book that Mr. T had loaned him.

Well, it is an English class. I told Brandon he could get credit for reading the book that period. He read. I gave him a reading log to fill out. And he filled it out. 

Alas, the book only took him two days to finish. (It was a graphic novel about Nat Turner. Considering his reading level, a graphic novel is the sort of thing to help Brandon get into a story. And this is the sort of history he's interested in.) 

Now if only I could find something he'd enjoy reading for the last week. (By the time you read this, the summer session will be over. But, if you know of any similar books Brandon might enjoy, I'll pass along the recommendations.) 

The Giggles

A teacher at one of the high schools I sub at wrote a book about parents and teens and effective communication. She's looking for backers on Indiegogo. You can read (and watch her talk about the book on video) here.

Spring in eighth grade English means it's time for them to read The Diary of Anne Frank. Because eighth grade, we read the play version. 

Reading plays in class can be fun. Parts are assigned. If you have the right mix of kiddos, they can get into it. Some do a voice. Some get engaged in their roles.

Alas, with the hybrid thing, things are different.

Getting kiddos at home to turn on their microphones and respond is hard. Those that do often have background noise: dogs barking, babies crying, siblings making noise, etc. But since we have kiddos in class, we have willing volunteers to read. 

Okay, maybe "willing" is stretching it a bit. It's more like I told them they were reading, and they didn't contradict me. And with few kiddos in class, everyone in class got a speaking part, so it wasn't like any one of them were getting singled out. They all had to, ahem, suffer the same fate. 

Sixth period. I had four students in class.

Scene 1, Act 2 has eight speaking parts. I divvied up the parts so each boy got two roles. And away we went.

Only... Adam had the giggles. 

When he wasn't speaking (he was playing Anne and Miep), it was fine. The kiddos at home didn't hear him as he kept his microphone muted. But when it was his turn to read...

He had to try to gather himself together. Then he'd get a sentence or two out only to burst into laughter again. Luckily, he didn't have too much to do in the scene.

Why was he laughing? I have no idea. He blamed another boy's picture in the meet. (With cameras off, a picture holds their place on screen. Very few students use their actual pictures, so it was some odd image.) But I doubt that was what caused the giggle fit. 

Somehow, we made it through the scene.

With the at home and in class groups thing being awkward, I took some time to search, and I found an audio version of the play. 

The one day a week we're all distance (kind of a long story as to how the whole thing works), I teased the recording. I asked the class how they enjoyed reading in class. As expected, the in-class kiddos weren't so enthused about having to read. (The at-home kiddos rather enjoyed it, though.)

When I told them I had found a recording, the in-class students cheered. (Yay! in the chat counts as cheering.) But not Adam. Adam said he rather enjoyed reading in class. 

But the rest of sixth period were happy. It seems that they didn't get a whole lot out of our reading of that scene as the kiddos in the classroom did.

Not surprising, really. I could probably say the same about most things school-related.

Old People's Tech

I'm covering an English class long-term for a teacher who is out on maternity leave. The eleventh graders are reading The Great Gatsby. 

On Tuesday/Wednesday, it was time to start chapter 1. But, I did not have a copy of the book. I asked the other teachers, and they did not have a PDF for the book to use for the classes. 

(The students can check out a physical copy of the book from the campus library, but that means they have to go to the campus, and as we're doing the distance learning thing, most aren't getting down to campus to do that. Mostly, the teachers are putting copies of the materials needed online.) 

This was when it occurred to me I had heard that The Great Gatsby had entered the public domain in January. I wondered if it was up on Project Gutenberg. 

If you have not heard of Project Gutenberg, it's...

...a volunteer effort to digitize and archive cultural works, as well as to "encourage the creation and distribution of eBooks." It was founded in 1971 by American writer Michael S. Hart and is the oldest digital library.

(That's via Wikipedia.)

It was. So, I downloaded a copy and uploaded that and the links to the students' Google Classroom.

On Thursday/Friday I explained where the copy of the book came from. Just so they'd know. 

I uploaded three things: the PDF, the html version, and a link to Gatsby's page. The reason for the third is because from that page, one can download an EPUB or Kindle version of the text that can be sideloaded to any ereader.

As I explained the third link, I asked the class if any of them had an ereader. Crickets. I explained what an ereader was. 

I got a few nos. Then one student chimed in with, "My grandma has one of those." 

Gee. Thanks for sharing. 

And here, I thought the kiddos liked ereaders. Consider me educated. 

Background Noise

For the last two and a half weeks before the end of the calendar year, I am covering a social studies class, special ed. Their assignments have been to continue reading through their textbook and outlining/answering questions. 

Their teacher sent me links to online versions of their textbooks, so we could read together in class. They read a paragraph or two. Then "we discuss", which basically means I ask questions and clarify things that weren't necessarily clear in the text. (Or, in the case of their 15 year old government book, are out of date.) 

Mathias volunteered to read. (I was calling on students, but I rarely turn down volunteers.) He turned on his mic, and. . . 

As Mathias started to read, his little brother screamed in the background. (At least, I assume brother. The age of the child made it hard to determine, and he/she is pre-words. Just screams.) Mathias tried to shush him, but sometimes babies scream. And this baby wasn't going to be calmed. Especially while Mathias couldn't focus on him while trying to talk to me. 

He apologized, while I assured him that wasn't necessary. Some things are just beyond one's control. 

Theo's younger brother was a bit older than Mathias'. But he was yelping in the background, too. It sounded like it had something to do with school. 

It's amazing what you can sort of tune out. I focused on the students. With things how they are, they can't help when their younger siblings are loud. 

But it's not all loud younger siblings. 

Imani volunteered to read. She had no screaming siblings in the background. As she read, though, when she'd mispronounce a word (this is frequent and normal), a male voice quietly corrected her. Brother, father, uncle, or other friend? No idea. 

It's nice to know that some of them do have some help at home.

These are strange times.

Cursed Catcher

Another subbing day, another wonky internet connection. 

Eleventh grade English. They were reading Catcher in the Rye. The teacher had left links to the story being read (on YouTube), and we were to listen to the story (chapters three and four). Then they had questions to answer. 

I had enough time to play the chapters with about ten minutes to spare. 

That, of course, is not how things turned out. 

I don't know if it was because the wind over the weekend had knocked out power, or if it was that I was working from a Chromebook, or if I'm just doomed. Because it just did not work all that well. 

I've done the whole show-the-class-a-video remotely before. This time, it took for-ev-er for it to load so I could present the thing to the class. I had two screens going. I had set up the video ahead of time. Once I had intro'd the lesson, I went to present (which is just a thing I click on screen), and it would not load. 

And it would not load. And it would not load.

Finally, it loaded. And I started. And then I got booted out of the meet. 

Over two days I had to do this four times. And four times, I spent more of the period trying to get the video to present than actually having the video present. I gave up trying to take attendance while class was going, but that didn't help. In fact, I got to the point where I wasn't doing anything other than letting the video play. 

But still, one period I got booted from the meet SIX TIMES. 

After I had trouble the first time, I warned the classes that it might happen. I told them if I fell out of the meet, I'd be right back, so to just hold tight. And for the most part, they did. 

(I had a few bail on me, but with the attendance extension I have running in the background, it was easy enough to know who.) 

When I emailed their teacher, I let him know of the issues. And that a couple of the classes didn't finish listening to the book. (The links were in their Google Classroom, so they could listen on their own later.) I also let him know if the students complained that they had every right to complain, because it was a mess. 

I even apologized to the students. It wasn't their fault that my wifi (on campus) was wonky. 

But, they weren't too upset. In fact, several left messages in the chat for me: 

u did amazing

^^^

I'm glad you were patience :^)

You did good

have a good day, stay safe

I did what I could. It's all I could do.

Read the Chapter

Because I'm covering the English class, it was decided that we'd read a book. 

(Apologies for the passive voice. It's a bit weird to explain the whole thing, so I'm just going to leave it at that.) 

We started The Outsiders. 

Because we were sort of changing up class half way through, and because I knew what sort of classes these were, I was expecting a whole lot of not-having-done-the-reading. I mean, I warned them on Thursday that there would be reading, and I told them to look for the assignment on Friday. It wasn't like they didn't have a heads up. 

So, I planned to do some prelim stuff on Tuesday. I could introduce the book. I could give them some information that would help them as they read chapter one. (If we were meeting in person, we would have read it together in class.) 

The first group on Tuesday was as expected. They hadn't done the reading. And what I'd prepared went very well. 

The second group... 

Ronan had done the reading. He had the book in front of him. Massey hadn't read the book for class (as he had missed Thursday and didn't know we'd be reading), but he remembered it from reading it in middle school. He informed us that it was one of his favorite books. 

Uh... 

(There was a third boy in class. He hadn't read the book.) 

I mean, I had questions for the chapter and all, but I had planned on prelim. And keeping the classes at the same pace seemed to be for the best... 

It's kind of fun to have a class discussion of a book that they've read. And Massey lobbied the third boy hard on it being a worthwhile read. 

Now I know to expect them to be ready. This will be fun...

Dancing Fool

Wednesday. Seventh grade English. Fourth period.

JT walked in late, but he immediately asked for a health office pass telling me he had a headache. He sounded like he was in pain, so when he returned a half hour later, I had sympathy for him.

But the minute he got back, he went for the standing desk.

Standing desk? A few classes have them now. They look like this:

The general rule is that if a student needs to, they can go back to one (there are two in each class that has them, and the teachers have them in the back of the room) and work from there.

I would think if you have a headache, the last thing you'd want to do is stand in class, but whatever.

The lesson for the day was SSR or silent sustained reading. They were reading books of their choice. The room was silent. The kiddos weren't even listening to music.

So, it was a surprise when I looked up to find JT dancing at the standing desk...

Throwing down random dance movies is a thing nowadays. Mostly in middle school, but I occasionally see it in high school too.

I blame TikTok.

(Things I never expected to have to say: "Stop dancing in class...")

Man, I wish my headaches went away that quickly. Unless he was lying about the headache. Could be either, really.

Read What You Like

Monday. Lunch time...

The previous period the assignment was SSR or silent sustained reading. It was ninth grade English (many of the English teachers on campus have their students read on Mondays). Because sub, Ms. B had them write up a log of what they read. I gave them fifteen minutes (as per instructions) to complete it, but a couple of them needed more time. I didn't have the heart to kick them out.

As those kiddos finished up, a student from the next period walked in. While I normally don't have students in the classroom during lunch, I figured I might as well let him stay.

William asked what the assignment was going to be. I told him. He was disappointed; he had finished his book over the weekend. As it was lunch, I told him he could go and check something else out of the library. He said they didn't currently have the sequel, so he'd wait.

What he was reading came up. The Selection by Kiera Cass. I can't remember who, but one of you fine bloggers reviewed this book on your blog, so I had a vague idea what it's about.

When I mentioned being familiar with the title, William explained how it was a little embarrassing to admit he reads this type of novel (read: girly romance), but it's what he likes...

Frankly, that had not even occurred to me. I was just happy I had some familiarity with the title.

I never book shame.

I like sci fi and fantasy, but I also like romance. There is a stigma to reading romance, however. A lot of readers turn their nose up or sneer at romance. Which is silly, especially considering how it is probably one of the most successful genres. Most romance readers inhale books, and one can make a lot of money writing it.

I wonder how much of that snootiness is misogyny. It's a genre primarily aimed at women, and unlike most literary types of writing, the novels end with a happily ever after. I've read some excellently written stories, and I've learned loads about writing the feels better.

Anyway, girls are actively discouraged from liking these books. So, of course boys shouldn't even consider them.

And William was telling me how when he presents (the students have projects to go with the books they choose) he'd rather be working with a book he enjoys even if others question his reading material.

I went into a bit about how disliking romance is misogynistic, but mostly I said that he should read what he likes. It's hard enough to get students reading. Many won't pick up a book again after they graduate high school. I will not shame someone for finding books they enjoy.

Do you read romance novels? Do you read a genre you're embarrassed to admit you like? I promise, I will not novel shame you. I probably read "worse" novels than you do.

Not Quite Right

Seventh grade English. They were reading The Hobbit.

The day's assignment was for them to finish reading chapter eight and answer comprehension questions.

I explained the assignment to first period.

"But we listen to the book..."

Sigh. Of course they do.

The great thing about listening to literature is that they get to hear words they're not familiar with. Many are struggling readers. They might not even try without the help.

But leaving a sub the audio is tricky.

It used to be that there'd be a CD, and I'd play that on a boombox. Nowadays, all of the classrooms have installed speakers that one connects a computer to. The audio is a digital file.

The teacher can leave that all for a sub, but that means leaving their laptops and/or their login information. Sometimes it's really not worth the trouble.

So, knowing all this, I informed the class they were going to be doing things differently that day. And it's not a bad thing to have them change things up once in a while.

However, middle schoolers hate change.

Before I had a chance to give my "you can read it to yourselves today" speech, my co-teacher spoke up.

It was one of those lovely co-caught classes where a number of the students are special ed, so there's a general ed teacher as well as a special ed teacher working together. Both teachers were out, so we two subs were supervising the class. This is a very good thing as many times those classes can be more challenging behavior-wise, especially when there's a sub (or two).

The co-teacher said he could try to find the book on YouTube. I figured, why not?

After dealing with some technical issues, he did manage to find it. He got it all connected and going...

"But that's not what we've been listening to. He's not doing the voices..."

*headdesk*

Seventh graders... We just can't win.

That Doesn't Count

All last week, the library was having a book fair. During the morning announcements, we were invited to go over and see what they had. We were told there were lots of great books to buy...

"Who buys books?" a student asked.

It was a special ed. English class. So, I kinda knew where the question came from. But still, I was speechless.

One of the students (not the student who asked) had a one-on-one aide. The aide said what I should have said...

"I buy books."

So, I seconded, saying that I buy books, too. Of course, this didn't count.

"Yeah, well, you're teachers..."

(We spent the week reading a simplified version of The Swiss Family Robinson. I probably don't have to mention that I had a group of reluctant readers.)

Knitting in Class

11th grade English. 6th period. I'd been warned that they might be difficult...

(6th periods are strange classes. They're either the worst period of the day or they're odd. There's something about having been in school all day that makes them a bit punchy. And, all the athletes have their sport's class then. So, for some reason, that's when most of them let their freak flag fly.)

The assignment was to finish reading "Everyday Use" by Alice Walker. (The link goes to the actual story online. Worth a read if you haven't read it before.

Now, I say they were to finish reading it, but when I questioned them on what happened the prior day (with a different sub), no one could tell me what had happened. And since the next day they had a quiz over this story (and several others), I figured we'd better go back and understand the thing.

But, 6th period. Having them read aloud (which presumably they did do already)...

I made the executive decision to read the part of the story to them that they were supposed to have already read.

They were actually happy with this idea. And let me read without talking over me. Score!

I noticed out of the corner of my eye that one girl pulled out her knitting. As someone who knits while watching TV, I had no issue with this. I figured she could pay attention just as well.

I finished the page or so they should have read. Then we went on, and I called on readers. (I had index cards, so I could randomly select.)

A couple students heckled the girl. Knitting in class? She wasn't paying attention...

So, naturally, hers was the second card I picked. And you know what? She found her place and read better than some who were supposedly following along. (Well, there were several heads down on desks, so not really following along.)

Her turn over, she went back to her knitting. (She ended up ripping it all out. She didn't like the feel of the yarn.)

I need more knitters in class. Although, most of the time they have actual work to do, so they can't really knit...

What Number Am I?

8th grade English. They were reading an article debating whether or not school should start later in the day.

Reading something together as a class has some special concerns for a sub. Since I don't know the kiddos, it's hard for me to pick readers. I prefer a randomizing agent of some sort.

Some teachers leave cards with student names. This day I was out of luck, however. But I did have a class roster with numbers.

After the first kiddo (a volunteer) read, I said, "Pick a number between one and thirty-six".

He did. I found the number on the roster and read out that name. (While I could have them pick a student on their own, this can become problematic depending on the day. These classes were a bit wound up, so I didn't want to add in that excitement.) A couple times students picked numbers of absent students. Then I'd just go one up or down.

I thought my system was rather transparent. Apparently not.

When one reader finished a paragraph, the rest of the class started calling out numbers. The reader would pick one. And invariably, the reader picked would be surprised. As were the students calling out numbers.

"But I'm 21..."

The boy pointed to the number etched into his desk. I hadn't realized the seats were numbered. But no, I wasn't going by seating chart.

Even after this, they still shouted out numbers. Ah, 8th graders.