(Different campus than the one I did the week and a half of seventh grade success at, but they were doing the same thing I had done last week. The counselors came in to get their student portal accounts set up. Looks like I had the vacant classes right on schedule.)
The students had a school rules kind of an assignment (they were doing the A to Z of how they should behave), and mostly they were on task. Someone made a comment about the air conditioning.
After the prior week's heat, this week was a nice cool down. We were still in the 80s (Fahrenheit, Celsius would be about 29 degrees), but it felt so much better. However, it was still air conditioning weather.
Instead of responding, I noticed that the kiddo sitting right in front of me had on a black hoodie. And I finally asked the question.
I mentioned that we adults have had this conversation. Why do the kiddos where black hoodies in the heat? What are they thinking?
Several students chimed in. Mostly it was about having the sads. They said sometimes they just want to huddle in the comfort of a hoodie and wallow. (That's the gist of it, anyway.)
Mystery solved.
And then one student piped up with how they'll sometimes wear shorts in the winter. To which I emphatically agreed. And why is that? But to that I did not get an answer.
Wednesday. The continuation high school. Computer aided drafting.
Wait. A subbing day...?
Yes, it is still technically summer. The first day of school is in about a week and a half. But the continuation high school starts early (mid-July), so this time of year there's always a chance that I might get to work. If something pops up, I grab it.
I've covered this teacher's class many, many times, so I knew the drill. They had projects. (They work on Solidworks, completing various drafting activities.) They get their credit upon completion of the assignments, so if they goof around, it's only hurting their own graduation.
Third period. Joey's task was to program a robot to "dance" to a song of his choice.
Joey? He explained that he needed Mr. G's help.
This happens all the time. I asked Joey if there was some way we could figure it out. He booted up the computer (which ran an old Windows because that's what the robot was connected to), and connected to the necessary software. The robot moved. But, as Joey attempted to add to the program, he could get nothing to "stick". Every movement he input disappeared as soon as he tried to get it to work.
I am sure that we're missing something obvious. But as I'm unfamiliar with the software, I don't know what that obvious thing is. Sigh.
I'm used to these students making excuses, so I try to push a bit.
Sixth period. Two girls were "concerned" that I was "standing too close". I was just making sure they could log in. Then Elian had all sorts of excuses as to why Instagram was on his computer rather than the CAD software.
I gave them time to get their music set up. But Elian was still not working. Why? He said he was done.
On a Wednesday?
Generally, the teacher gives an assignment for the week. Most of them slow walk it, finishing by Friday, maybe. The rest of the classes, it didn't look like the kiddos were doing much, but it was the kind of fiddly work that doesn't look like much. They were enlarging their screens to the point that they were looking very closely at detail. And making minute changes.
I've watched kiddos work in this class before. That is the sort of thing I expect.
Elian? Done?
I mean, he could be. It's possible. But unlikely.
But, if he doesn't complete the project, he doesn't get credit. It's his grade.
I left a note that Elian said he was done. And I left it at that.
If he's scrambling in May to get credits done, he can remember the goofing off he did in July.
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?
Friday. Tenth grade world history, special ed. Fifth period.
Because it was a special ed class, I had an instructional assistant. Ms. M warned me about fifth period. Specifically, about the three boys on the baseball team. They would likely be late. Why?
The classroom is located on the end of the building. There's an outer door that opens into a kind of foyer. If you head straight ahead, you find the classroom. Right next to the classroom, if you head to the left instead of straight, is the girls' restroom. (And next door to that is a locked faculty restroom. Very convenient.)
These three boys... don't want to be seen near the girls' restroom. Or be seen by the girls in the restroom? The aversion is unclear.
So, passing period. I prop open the classroom door to make sure the kiddos will enter (and not hover outside). Angelo and Kyson whooshed into the room, headed for the table next to the TV (if you look at the above photo, there's a standing desk to the right of the TV; that's where they were). They turned towards the whiteboard, and hid their faces.
They would not be convinced to go to their seats, not until the door was closed.
Deep sigh.
The bell rang. I closed the door. And Angelo and Kyson took their seats. Soon thereafter, Noah whooshed into the room. He made sure that door closed behind him.
And... I... Huh?
Ms. M made the comment, out of their hearing, that it wasn't like they had to go through the girls' restroom to get to the classroom.
I am very familiar with this classroom. Exactly a year ago, I was doing a long term in this very classroom (for a vacant class). And I could not tell you what the girls' restroom looks like. I've never been in there.
But for some reason, those boys (and only those boys) do not want to be seen by the girls.
While the door was closed, Angelo, Kyson, and Noah were fine. Well, not "fine". Noah claimed he had already completed the day's new assignment (it had been posted first thing in the morning, so he could have accessed it in his previous classes), and so he spent the period moving about and getting his lunch (he had a baseball game later that day).
The three boys were not well-behaved.
About a half hour before the end of the period, Noah and Kyson had to leave for their game. They stood before the door, waiting for the minute they could go, but they opened the door just a crack. Just to look.
They begged to leave early. Well, earlier. Nope.
I guess they were trying to get out while the coast was clear. Of girls.
I mean, it's a class where they play video games. Cake, right?
I was walking the room, making sure the students weren't doing anything stupid, as is my job. And I got pulled into conversation with three boys... Deep sigh. You know this isn't going to go well.
So, there was a lot going on. And in retrospect it's hard to remember what bit came first. In the note to their teacher, I explained them thusly: They didn’t seem to be doing much other than being provocative.
Marco found a totally inappropriate game to play. (Title: Five Nights at Epstein's. Normally I'd search it up so I could link to it for you, but no.) I pointed out the inappropriateness of this endeavor, but Marco didn't see my point. His compatriots logged in and played the game, too. They claimed that Mr. P wouldn't mind. Sure he wouldn't.
Jorge explained to me how the Jews controlled everything. I countered with how wrong and racist that whole argument was. I even pointed out how the people pushing those theories were the very ones who were backing ICE and such. And, that since the three boys were varying shades of Latino, they were directly targeting them. No dice.
And the three of them actively mocked the very special ed kids who were also in the class. Those kiddos weren't in the room at the time, so I didn't realize what they were doing, but in retrospect, it was clear.
The instructional assistant that came with the special ed kiddos is someone I have worked with many times. She clued me in. This was Mr. P's worst class. Obviously. And the maturity level of those boys was the main reason for it.
Which leads me to believe that much of the problems currently in our country have to do with these kinds of dude-bros being too stupid to realize that they're stupid. We're spending way too much time trying to appeal to their better natures. Sadly, they don't have better natures...
I mean, we can hope those kiddos will grow out of it. I don't know. I think they were an object lesson to me. Don't bother. The rest of that class was fine. Focus on them. Not the dude-bros who don't even realize that they're the ultimate losers in this particular game.
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.
After catching a gig at 3 AM only to have it cancelled five minutes later, I was very happy to catch a Spanish class on Monday at 6 AM. (Things have been very slow lately. But February is more than half booked now.)
Spanish 2, fifth period.
I had been asked to cover a third period elsewhere. (It was the teacher's prep period. They're on a block schedule; this was the odd periods day.) There was a minute or two of the passing period left when I arrived back at the classroom. I unlocked the door, and the students who had arrived before me filed in.
Teachers covering other classes on their prep periods is pretty common. And some teachers will take the passing period to hit the restroom. The students wait. It's so common as to be something I've never needed to comment on before.
Fifth period started. I got the students started on their online assignment. (Well, some of it was in their books, but the instructions had been posted online by their teacher.) I took roll. (So, a few minutes of the period had passed.)
Two students walked in. Tardies have been a huge issue lately. The schools are trying many things to curb it. But for me, it just means I need to be aware of latecomers so I can mark them as tardy in the attendance.
As they were arriving, the two students explained. "We knocked. You weren't here."
I did not comment on this. Nor did I add this comment to my note to the teacher. I marked the kiddos tardy in the attendance.
Because, huh? They knocked? When? And why did they leave? Where did they go?
Yeah, no. They're supposed to wait. If I wasn't there at the beginning of the period... Well, even then, they should wait. (There have been times when the teacher is late. This is very obvious because of the crowd of students waiting outside the door.)
Study skills is just a fancy way of saying study hall. I mean, technically the teacher is supposed to have curriculum that teaches skills for studying, but most of the kiddos who really want that are in AVID or success. (Or even if they don't but have someone urging them in that direction.) Study skills is the special ed equivalent, and most of the time, the teacher gives them time to work on missing assignments.
This is a very long-winded way of saying that I had a class that had nothing to do. They were allowed to be on their phones once they were done with all their work. They were done with all their work.
Except...
I had an instructional assistant, and she warned me of Nick. In semester one, Nick had claimed that he was doing all his work and he had no homework. Alas, his semester grades showed these claims to be lies. Miss B no longer trusted him.
Miss B then told me that Nick would have many excuses. His work would be on paper, but the paper would be at home. And as it was homework, he'd do it at home.
Nick arrived. Miss B asked him what he had to work on. He told her he didn't have anything. But Miss B wasn't having that.
It came out that Nick had some maps to complete for his history class, but he had left the papers at home. Miss B sent him to his teacher to get another copy. Upon his return, Miss B sent him to his math teacher to get work from her.
And then, while he was out, I got a call from the speech therapist. Nick was needed for speech therapy.
Naturally.
Miss B set up his computer so the map he'd need was on the screen. She made sure he had everything he needed to complete his work. And when he returned, he did work. Kind of.
I looked down at his map of the Middle East, and on the Arabian Peninsula he had written "France". He did get Africa and Asia in the right places, though. (My knowledge of geography is pretty terrible, but I can locate France.)
When I pointed out where various of the list of places he needed to label were, he immediately wrote those down. But he was slow walking the looking up and figuring out where the places were on his own. I wasn't going to do it for him, so I walked away.
If you want to get something done, you find a way. If you don't, you find an excuse. Nick was all about the excuses. Sigh.
One would hope that at some point he'll want good grades. Until then, he's going to fight us about doing his work.
Thursday before winter break. (I saved all my subbing stories for when school was back in session.) Seventh period business math.
The last two days before winter break I caught a math class. Although, it doesn't really matter what the class was as the finals had been Tuesday and Wednesday, and with the grades due Friday, Ms. C had to have submitted them before she left. Which meant the class would have nothing to do (that counted).
But Ms. C left them a math worksheet (word problems relating to Buddy the Elf from Elf).
Not that they were really doing it.
We'd been in class maybe fifteen minutes when Harley asked to use the restroom. As she sped from the room, the rest of the class erupted in complaints.
"She's gone."
"Don't let her go."
"She won't be back."
"She's on the escort list."
(She was not on the escort list. I checked.)
Unfortunately, I had already said okay, and there was no warning in the lesson plans to not let her go. If it had been any other day, I would have been more upset, but considering the timing...
About five minutes later, Prescott asked for a restroom pass. I told him he had to wait (I have a one-at-a-time policy as do most subs and teachers). He was certain Harley wouldn't be back, so I let him go.
Mistake.
Anyway, Harley did return. Fifteen minutes later. So, yeah, it was a while. I did my usual, "Where ya been...?" that I ask students who take forever out of class. She said she had gone to the office for reasons. (I wish they would just ask to go to the office. I don't generally say no.)
Harley then asked to leave class again. This time she "needed water". The office people gave her a burrito, so now she was thirsty. Um, no. One outing per class period. (And besides, it was a minimum day. We had maybe twenty minutes left of class.) She was not happy with me. (She complained of dehydration, as the students always do when they insist they need to get water.)
Remember Prescott? Yeah, he was still not back from his restroom pass. He who had been whining about how long Harley would take.
As the end of the period approached, I collected back their papers and made sure they returned computers. The bell rang. And that is when Prescott finally returned to class. (He had left his backpack behind.)
Deep sigh.
He who howled the loudest? He was out of class for forty minutes. (It would have probably been longer if it had been a regular schedule day.)
When they take forever to the restroom, I do note it for the teacher. Those who are in the habit of disappearing to the restroom get placed on the escort list. That is, if they need the restroom, they must have security escort them.
Monday. Continuation high school. Math, fourth period.
(This was the Monday before winter break. I saved all my subbing stories for when I was back at work.)
The students had work online. It's a program called IXL. I'm familiar with it as all the schools in the district use it.
When a student answers a problem, the program immediately tells them if they got it correct or not. If they got it correct, they move on to harder problems. If they didn't, the program shows them how to solve the problem, and then gives them a similar one to solve.
The goal is to get to 100. It can take twenty problems or it can take forty problems, depending on if the student is getting the problems correct. (If it's taking much more than twenty problems, it's time for the student to ask for help.)
So, when I walk the room while the kiddos are on IXL, I know what to look at on their screen to make sure they're on track. Twelve problems with a score of 72? They're right where they should be. Twenty-two problems and a score of 31? It's time for me to gently ask if they need some help.
Jasper was on his phone. I reminded him that phones weren't to be used in class. When it looked like he was back on his phone, I stood over him again. I urged him to get on task. Then when he did...
He wasn't solving the problems. He took a screenshot. Then he uploaded that screenshot into Google's Gemini. And Gemini solved the problem for him. He took that answer and input it into IXL...
Yeah, that's not how that's supposed to work.
I asked Jasper if he didn't understand how to do the work. He said he did. (Doubtful, but okay...) So, then I explained that he needed to do his own work, not use AI to do the work for him. This was cheating.
He didn't see my point. He explained that he didn't want to take the time to solve the problems. He knew how to do it, but he needed to do it quickly. When I pointed out that Mr. F wouldn't appreciate him doing it this way, he replied that Mr. F would be okay with it as Mr. F knew he needed the credits.
I went to bed last Sunday night figuring I wasn't working Monday. I hadn't managed to pick up an assignment. (I had just missed a couple. Sigh.)
I had worked myself into looking forward to a day off. I went to bed a bit late. But I was totally asleep when the alert on my phone woke me with a job for Monday. I grabbed it without looking at it too closely. It was one AM.
I was covering a special ed teacher who co-taught with three different teachers. Not a bad gig. (Block schedule, so I only had three classes.)
The first block I had integrated math 1 (think: algebra 1). It turned out the general ed teacher was also out. After a bit of a scramble (as the general ed teacher had assumed Mr. R would be there), another teacher got the lesson loaded to Google Classroom, and we were good to go.
The class...
The other sub was competent. She took roll while I got the class going on what they needed to work on. The kiddos were very laid back which was fine. But, they were not following certain rules, like having their cell phones put away and like actually doing their assignment. Sigh.
But things came to a head when three students "returned" from somewhere. We had been keeping track of who was allowed out of class, and the three of them hadn't been allowed out of class. (How we missed them leaving, I have no idea.)
The other sub asked the kiddos their names. And one of them lied to her about it. That's when we learned that this girl was not enrolled in the class. Deep sigh.
She was incensed that the other sub called security on her. She claimed that she had only just been taken out of the class... (Which poses a couple questions: If she knew she was in a different class, why would she go to her old one? When the other sub called roll, why did she not say anything when her name was not called? Why was she roaming campus, anyway?)
The student acted like the aggrieved party, but security agreed with us. Because, seriously? Doubling down when you're in the wrong?
When Mr. R responded to my email about the day, he commented that the class was very immature. Yeah, we caught that.
The rest of my day was uneventful as the general ed teachers were there and taught their lessons.
I don't really mind the one AM calls. It gives me time to go back to sleep before I have to go to work.
I finished my long-term in the middle school art class on Wednesday. On Friday, I was right back there to cover for Ms. D as she had plans (that she made before she was hired). Because block schedule, it was the same group I said "goodbye, but not" to on Wednesday.
Eighth period. It was the passing period, so I was standing outside, greeting students.
Aiden took a spot next to me.
"Could you give me some assignments I can complete over the weekend to pull up my grade?"
Aiden is one of those students whose names I now know due to repeated usage. That his grade isn't where he wants it isn't a surprise. But grading the class is no longer my job.
"That would be up to Ms. D now..."
I explained that he could complete his missing work, but there was no guarantee that Ms. D would accept it.
The previous day I had gotten an email from a parent about a different student. Similar situation. I forwarded the email to Ms. D. She replied to me, asking if the student had been a behavior issue or had been goofing off in class.
I can safely say that any student whose grade is still in F territory is a student who's been goofing off. I gave them ample time in class to complete assignments. I warned them that if their grades were low, that they could make up the work.
Aiden was missing the project. He asked if he could turn it in. I said he could. (I could sneak it in while I was still in the room.)
So, what did Aiden to all period? Did he complete the project that was 60% of his grade? Did he put together the big assignment that was due that day? Did he get anything done?
Nope. Aiden did what Aiden's been doing the whole time--Aiden played around.
I kinda want to be a fly on the wall when Aiden has this conversation with Ms. D. He's not making good choices. I think that's going to burn him. And it's no longer my problem.
I was outside, greeting students. The room is a bungalow, and it is up a couple steps. Years ago, they installed a ramp over those stairs, and there's a railing along the ramp. I leaned against it.
Oscar and Russell arrived. (I can't remember which showed up first, but one was waiting for the other.) They both parked themselves on the railing to get the "fresh air". (The kiddos don't like how I blast the air conditioner, but it was 90℉ outside.)
The bell rang, and I headed inside. As I got class started, I noticed that neither Oscar nor Russell were in their seats.
Initially, the boys both sat together at the same table. They, along with a third boy, made eighth period difficult. I had separated them the previous class period, and the whole class mellowed. It was lovely. (They had begged for "one more chance" the period before that. I informed them that that had been their "one more chance" and they blew it.)
I poked my head out the door. Oscar and Russell were both still sitting on the railing. Um...
"You know you're both now late, right?"
They protested. They had gotten to their railing before the bell. I explained that they needed to be inside and in their seats at the bell. Sitting outside getting "fresh air" is not in class ready to learn.
I had explained to the class in the first week that on time meant in their seats at the bell. I would, of course, give them a bit of grace if they were in the room and heading for their seats at the bell. But sitting outside and not coming in until I retrieved them? Nope, that's not how this thing works.
Those two boys... Once I separated them, they mellowed. Once they get going, they're fine. But this is the moment where if I let them get away with stuff, they'll be trouble the whole school year. I won't do that to the incoming teacher if I can help it.
Hopefully that's the only time I have to mark them tardy. We'll see...
Wednesday. Second period, sophomore math. (Yes, the same group I discussed yesterday.)
Second period had four boys who just... They'd spend the period hanging out, not paying attention to the math of it all.
Mr. Y (the co-teacher) had enough, and on Wednesday he separated them to the four corners of the room. So, of course, the obvious happened. Rather than keeping their little party to themselves, they were now talking across the room. Sigh.
The topic of conversation turned to sports betting. Because one of the boys, Ximenez, has a problem. In the previous class, he talked about how he had won a parlay, but he lost all his winnings on other bets.
Funnily enough, I was only aware of the terminology at all because my Sunday night show's topic had been about sports betting on apps. In case you'd like to take a look:
(I suppose I should warn you about John Oliver. The show is on HBO, and they take advantage of being allowed to use all the adult language. And the jokes can be a bit juvenile. Along with some good info.)
I held it in as long as I could, but then I spoke up and explained to Ximenez that perhaps the gambling wasn't a good idea. (Especially since I caught him watching a baseball game on his phone rather than taking down the notes that Mr. Y had been giving them earlier in the period.)
Of course Ximenez didn't see my point and denied that he had a problem. Sigh.
(Okay, so before you ask, yes, Ximenez is a minor. Sophomore. I just looked up his age. He's actually a junior. He's 16--he'll be 17 in a bit under two weeks. I am not surprised this junior is in a sophomore-level class. Clearly he failed a math class in his high school career.)
He claimed that he'd give it up after... Oh, I don't know. He gave me a couple different times he'd give it up, and I wasn't listening. Because there was a guy in one of the clips Oliver showed that said the exact same thing. Which I pointed out. But Ximenez again wasn't seeing my point.
This is how gambling problems start. Sadly, there was nothing I was going to say that Ximenez would hear. Not now.
I did recommend the episode. (I knew they post it on YouTube after the episode airs.) Yes, I know it's not really a good show for a minor, but if anyone could get through to him, it'd be through humor, not preaching.
Ximenez's response? He had a parlay going, and if he won, he'd get $400. And he'd give me $20. (I told him to keep the money. He assumed he'd win. I rather thought the opposite.)
By the time you read this, we should know how that bet went. I don't believe that Ximenez is going to actually follow up with me (and I will likely forget the next time he's in class).
Edited to add: On Monday Ximenez informed me that... he lost the parlay.
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.)
(I ended up covering a week of French classes. It was one of those assignments that I picked up at 11:30 PM Sunday night for two days, and then it got extended into the full week. Sometimes the gigs happen like that.)
The teacher had left them a list of things to do in their Google Classrooms that I only got passing glimpses of. (It included this article about France.) So, I wasn't sure what they were up to when one group was urging a classmate to repeat something. In French.
Okay, so I took French in school. A while ago. But I think I know more than the French 1 students do. Still, I couldn't figure out what it was they were trying to say.
It sounded like "gen-tel-main". I interpreted it as je t'aime. I repeated this back to them. They said that was it. The boy asked what he was saying. I translated: "I love you".
No, that's not what they were going for. (Not shocked.)
The way they were asking the boy to repeat it? The way they were going about trying to say something? Yeah, they were trying to swear. They were trying to get the boy to say something not polite.
They pulled up Google Translate. I hovered over their shoulders, watching. They ended up with je t'emmène. "I'll take you."
Huh?
With me watching, they couldn't very well go for what they actually were trying to say. They acted like that was it. Sure. Whatever.
Everyone else seems to learn how to swear in other languages, but those lessons seem to pass me by. Otherwise, I would have had a better idea of what they were actually trying to say. Because, that? Nope. That was what one says in front of the teacher when the teacher is paying attention.
Their teacher, who is actually French, likely has a better idea of what they were trying to say. So, I sketched the scene for her in my note, and she can figure it out. She's the kind of teacher that goes over the sub note with the class (she said she would). I can just imagine how that conversation is going to go.
It's always fun to encounter these kiddos later when they learn that I do actually write these things down. Especially when they thought it was play time with the teacher gone. *cackles*
I had swapped Alvin and another boy, but that other boy was absent (and has gone on independent study, so he won't be back for a while), so at the beginning of class a day after I had made the switch...
"Can I move back to that seat? We'll be good..."
Alvin was practically sitting in Archie's lap. The two would not stop talking. Even after I asked them to. Repeatedly.
"We promise. We won't talk."
Um, right.
I would have made the joke that the two of them act like they're in love, but I wasn't going to humiliate them in front of their peers. And it might be the truth.
Because, seriously, the way they were together... Yeah, I can see a spark. They work as a couple.
But, seventh graders. Things are more open nowadays, and there's less of a stigma, but seventh graders.
Anyway, I did say no. Pretty emphatically. I wasn't even tempted. I didn't feel even a little badly about it.
I'm doing them a favor, really.
Because, seriously, they could not focus on the lesson and sit next to each other. I'm protecting their science grade.
Thursday. The bell had just rung to let the kiddos out of school. One of the students had hung back to talk to me.
He started off by referencing an assignment that had been due on Tuesday. Then he explained...
"I was with my cousin. It was his birthday. I had my work out. We were playing with his dog..."
At this point I interrupted. "Are you going to tell me that the dog ate your homework?"
"No. He peed on it."
Ahem.
I got another copy of the assignment and gave it to the boy, and he was on his way.
A couple students had turned in this assignment (our second of the school year) to me hesitantly, so I announced to the classes that I was accepting late work (better late than never). While I'd prefer that they get the work in on time, I'd rather they turn it in eventually and not have a bunch of missing assignments.
They're seventh graders (12 years old). I want them to get in the habit of getting their work turned in. I'll snarl at them about late work another time.
Yeah, this was the same class I talked about yesterday. There's a part 2.
For students being out of class to take pictures, I had a very long warning about Calum. I didn't really get it until I realized I had met Calum before.
A year ago, I was doing a long-term in Success Seminar. (Remember?) Calum was in that class. He had a tendency to wander. He would disappear from class for an hour sometimes. He always had an excuse. I got included in the email from his counselor about how she was to be looped in on his wanderings as it was something they were working on.
Calum had rules for going out and photographing. He had to have a buddy go along. (She was a specific student, and this was a normal thing.)
Calum asked to go out in the second group. He got his buddy without my having to ask, and I checked him out per normal.
When the rest of the second group had returned, I took a look at the time. Calum wasn't due back. But I kept an eye on the time, and once it had been a half hour, Calum had still not returned.
Deep sigh.
Before I could call security, Kate popped in again. (This was when she was asking about Jerry's health office wanderings. See yesterday's post.) So, I informed her that Calum was due back. She had seen him, so she went and retrieved him.
Upon his return, Calum explained that he needed ten more minutes to get the rest of the photos he needed. (Somehow, everyone else managed to get their pictures in the time frame. I think this might be a Calum problem.) I told him he'd have to do that upon the teacher's return.
I was in this class for three days. (The teacher was at an Adobe conference. Photography has gone fully digital, so the conference was professional development.) I wrote two blog posts about the same period.
Every teacher has that one class. This was hers. (The other classes went fairly uneventfully. Even Kate said this was the one class.)
In the lesson plans, I had been warned that the students had 25-30 minutes outside of class to take pictures. I only had four cameras to check out, so only a few could go at a time. (With the length of the periods, that translates to roughly three groups every period.) But the previous classes had been fine with the time limit.
However, I had some specific instructions for period 5. I really should have known I'd be in for it.
The first group of students left to go take pictures. Three of them returned well within the time frame. Jerry, however, had not returned.
I really hate calling security. I always feel like a bit of an idiot. "I lost a student." But Jerry (wasn't sure if the student was a girl or boy as the name was on the list of who left) was over time, and it was time. Just as I was psyching myself up to do it, security walked in.
Kate was not happy to see a sub. But I was happy to see her. She asked if there was a time limit on students being out of class. I explained that I had just been about to call security for a student being over time.
We were talking about the same student.
Kate explained. Apparently, Jerry (a girl) is having issues with an ex (unclear if the ex is male or female), and while she was out of class, she was dealing with that drama rather than taking the pictures she was supposed to be taking.
Obviously.
When I informed Kate that Jerry was done being out of class, Kate retrieved Jerry and they had a discussion. Jerry returned to class.
Time passed. Then Jerry asked for a pass to the health office. I was dubious, but she could have actually been feeling ill. So I gave her the pass.
Kate returned a short time later. She had spotted Jerry out of class. I explained where she went. Kate checked. Sure enough, Jerry had checked in with the health office.
Did she meet up with the ex on the way? Considering that Kate came to ask me about her because she was not headed in the right direction? Likely.
(Jerry returned to class a short time later and did not ask to leave class again.)
Apparently, there's a bit of drama with students in this photography class. They're taking advantage of the permission to be outside. It's too bad. Photo is a great class. We shouldn't have to worry that they're not doing what they're supposed to be doing during class time.
