Stolen

Wednesday. The lesson was "Using Active Listening". Of which they were not.

The day was chaotic. I had students throwing things at each other. I had students talking over me while I tried to go over the lesson. As soon as the parts of the slideshow with videos in them would start, they would pull out their phones and ignore the screen. 

I put on slides what I wanted them to write down in their notebooks. Many of them weren't bothering. 

I was happy to get to the end of the lesson. 

It was the end of fourth period. The bell rang, and students were leaving. 

That's when Martin found her airpods missing. 

Uh...

There was nothing I could do. I would have had to call security while making sure no students left the room. And with these students, that would have meant me standing in front of the door as some would have just left even if I told them to stay. (The phone was on the other side of the room.)

Martin, understandably, was upset. She hadn't left her desk at all, and the airpods had been sitting next to her. 

This is why chaotic classes are bad news. 

But I couldn't stop. I had to prepare for the incoming sixth period, which was a worse class than fourth. (We're on a block schedule.) 

I was completely powerless to do anything. 

It's not a good feeling. 

Sixth period, as expected, was way worse than fourth. (Although, no belongings went missing.) I got a call part way into the period. 

Martin never made it to her sixth period class. (Nor did she make it to school on Friday.) 

Deep sigh. Days like these remind me why I don't do long term assignments. It's time to go back to just day-to-day subbing.

Scenes from a Math Test

Integrated math 1. (Read: algebra 1.) It was test day.

I had my little clock out. But then I got a look at the seating chart. Lots of faces looked familiar... So, I put my little clock away.

A girl walked into the room, saw me, and walked back out again, cursing under her breath.

"What did I do?" I asked her when she returned.

"I was in the class where your clock went missing."

Uh huh. I knew that much. That's why I put my clock away. (I made it out of this day with my clock still in my possession.)

But not everyone was upset to see me. One boy told me that I had written a good note for his class.

Yes, I remembered covering Ms. G's class the previous week. I had asked them to work quietly. They worked quietly. I gave them credit for this in my note.

Apparently, their reward for a good sub note was a movie day.

The last two periods of the day I had a co-teacher. Normally, he'd take over the group. But as it was a test, he would take "his" kids out to another room for the test. (His kids were the special ed. kids who need a different testing environment plus extra time. Some of them get to use notes. It's in their IEPs.)

However, the last time they had a sub and a test, things didn't go well. (He told me the students "ran over" the other sub.) So, he was planning on remaining in class.

But then he saw it was me. (Mr. D and I have worked together before.)

I didn't have any issues during the test. It's a pretty simple lesson. They must remain quiet until all the tests are returned. As they cooperated with this (mostly), it was a pretty boring day.

Sticky Fingers

Eighth grade math. The assignment: a shut up sheet. (Same teacher as the link. Although, I don't think the kiddos have learned the term yet.)

The lesson plan warned that the students should not be out of their seats. They were not to go anywhere near the front of the room. And for the most part the classes remained seated and on task.

But, they needed a lot of help. The kiddos were having issues with rounding, of all things.

Fourth period. There was this one kid. His desk "magically" slid forward. And his stuff wasn't where he left it, supposedly.

At one of the pauses, when none of the kiddos needed me at the moment, I happened to glance at the teacher's podium, and I found one of my supplies was missing. My eraser.

Before assuming one of the kiddos was a klepto (but these are eighth graders, so I was pretty sure it was theft), I took a look around the podium (that they weren't supposed to get near) to make sure it hadn't fallen somehow.

Luckily, it was mid way through the period. It wasn't too late. And as this sort of thing has happened before, I know how to get my stuff back.

I asked for it.

Now, no one admitted that they took it. And I didn't accuse anyone. I just announced to the class that I wanted my eraser back, and whoever took it needed to return it. I didn't even resort to threats. (Although, I totally would have called security if it had come to it.)

Another student needed help. Before I got back up front, someone "found" my eraser on the floor next to the podium. Imagine that.

Eraser returned. I was good. I said no more of it.

Well, not to the class. To the teacher... Yeah, that went in the note. I may have also pointed out who I suspected was the culprit. Because the teacher totally needs to know he has a klepto in his class.

Klepto Kid

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

Snort.

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

I was not using the projector.

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

The remote was missing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Remote returned. All was well.

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

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

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

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

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

Stolen Time

I used to have this small travel clock. On days when I was in a classroom where the clock didn't work or was missing, I would pull it out so I would know what time it was. (I don't wear a watch, and my phone lives in a buried part of my bag.) I need to know what time it is so I can time things like when it's time for the class to pack up their stuff.

It was day one in an eighth grade English class. They had a writing assignment, and things were going pretty smoothly. Third period was a bit of a challenge, but nothing too terrible for eighth graders.

At about three minutes until the end of the period, I noted the time via my travel clock, and then I announced to the class it was time to clean up.

They packed up, returned their books to the shelves, and generally did the get-ready-to-leave stuff.

The bell rang. As the class left, I went back to verify my travel clock's time was about right. (It's something I do frequently. If my clock is more than a couple minutes off, I'll fix it. If it's about a minute off, I remember to take that into account when I'm watching the time.)

I went back to where the clock was, only it wasn't. It was gone.

So, naturally, the next day I confronted period three about the missing clock right off the bat.

And they... were offended... by my accusations.

Offended. Them.

So, yeah, the clock is gone. And I'm sad about that. (It wasn't anything expensive, and it's probably time to replace the thing anyway, but that's not the point.)

But I'm not real happy with how they treated my announcement.

Two students "had to" step out they were so angry. At me. For accusing them of stealing my clock. (No, I didn't accuse them specifically. Because I have no idea who took it.)

Others complained that I had no right to accuse them of the theft. They weren't to blame. And they were so upset they couldn't take the scheduled quiz that day. (They took the quiz. I wasn't about to let them get away with that too.)

I don't know whether to laugh or cry at their audaciousness. At this point, please laugh.

A Student Thief

Occasionally, a student will report to me that he/she is missing an important item. Not a pen or pencil or the like, but something of value. Because of this one time when a girl had her fundraising money stolen, I know enough to get back the stolen item without having to call for backup.

It was a 10th grade world history class. And the lesson plan was pretty light. So, mostly they sat in their seats and talked. And I made sure they didn't do any damage to the room.

It was towards the end of class when the girl told me her fundraising money was missing. Students sell various food items all the time for various extracurricular activities. They're supposed to keep an eye on the money, but for whatever reason, this time the girl wasn't paying as close attention as she should.

There was no help for it. I had to call security.

Of course, since it was the end of the period, the bell rang before security got there.

Luckily, there was only one door to the room (some rooms have two doors), so I could stand in front of it and prevent any students from leaving. Which they protested. Loudly.

I also made sure the next class didn't come in.

It was still passing period when security got there. She explained to the class that if the money wasn't found, every student would be searched. But she wasn't allowed to search, so they'd first have to call an administrator. Which would take time. Making them even later to their next class than they were already.

It wasn't long before someone noticed an envelope in the trash. Containing all the money.

Once the girl verified that all the money was there, we let the students go. They weren't more than five minutes late to their next class. I wrote the whole incident down in the note to the teacher, and I hoped the girl had learned not to trust her classmates where money is concerned.

The next day I was on campus, and that class's teacher found me. I thought I was in trouble. (I should have been paying better attention. I should have noticed someone going through the girl's fundraising box.) But he wanted to tell me that he was pretty sure he knew who the thief was. And the thief was going to be dealt with.

I never did find out who the thief was. But it's been a few years since this incident, and that teacher is no longer teaching. He's now the principal at one of the high schools in the district.