One Last Time

Friday. I was back in the art class one last time.

When Ms. D was hired, she already had plans for certain days. They asked me to sub those days, and I said yes. Last Friday was the last of these days. 

And, I had been dreading it. Seventh period had been an issue for a while (as I mentioned), but after Monday's crazy (when I had them for less than a half hour), I knew they were now on sub behavior with me. Deep sigh. 

The assignment had them cutting paper (it was a 3D landscape thing). I knew this was going to be a mess. So, I had a strategy for how I was going to get them to clean up after. 

The school (it might be the whole district) has a new cell phone policy this year. No phones during class time. They even got the classes these nifty boxes: 

The kiddos (are supposed to) put their phones in the box at the beginning of the period and retrieve them at the end. And it has a lock on it. 

(I caught a girl on her phone during class time. The first consequence is just to lose the phone for the rest of the period, but the second consequence is that the phone goes to the main office. I've been keeping careful track of first offenses...) 

I usually don't bother to remove the key from the lock. No one has tried to retrieve their phones before time. But on this day... 

So, clean up time. I explained what needed to happen. And I informed them that no one would get their phones back until it was done. 

It got done. 

There was a mess. Play time for middle schoolers means mess. Thrown paper. Spilled water. Pencils on the floor. Flowers everywhere. (There's a plumeria outside the classroom that has blooms. On their worst days, they get obsessed with bringing in flowers.) It wasn't supposed to be a play day, but they weren't cooperating. 

The mess was picked up, so they got their phones. (They would have gotten their phones back, of course. I just made sure to leave them enough time to get the room picked up.) 

And that was goodbye. Phew. 

Earlier that day, a bunch of new assignments popped up on the subbing app. One of them, for the following Friday, was for Ms. D. I didn't get it. Mostly because I didn't click on the button that said "book". 

Reprieve, Sort Of

Monday. Fifth period. 

I was back as a sub in the middle school art class. The kiddos had a shading assignment. Things were going as well as could be expected when a weird alert sound came over the clock/PA system. 

"Lock down..." was announced. 

Uh oh. 

I took the blocker out of door one, and I went to latch door two. (Door two doesn't close all the way. I have to lift it just a bit to get the lock to catch. It's not a big deal now that I know the trick.) 

The kiddos expressed concern. 

Me? I've been through a few of these before. I explained that there was nothing to worry about and that we'd learn what was going on soon enough. 

Since the long term, I still had access to the school emails, so got informed like all the other teachers of what was going on. There was a police issue at an apartment complex not too far from the school, so to keep everyone safe, they put us on lockdown. 

The kiddos had enough work to do. And it was still the middle of fifth period, so no biggie. 

Then, it was the end of fifth period. I asked the class if they liked their seventh period. Many did not. I said, "Good news, you don't have to go." 

And it was good news. For me. I had been dreading seventh period. And now, I didn't have to see them. For a while...

With about a half hour of the day left, the lockdown was lifted. Yay?

Fifth period left. Seventh period arrived. All wound up. 

We had maybe twenty minutes of class. Which was about all I could take of them. 

"Did the teacher quit?" they asked. 

(Why she'd quit after one day...) 

We didn't do much of anything in seventh period. And then the day was over. Whew. 

Continuing Alarm

Friday. Second period. 

It was as if I had never left. (To them, I hadn't.) I greeted the class at the door, reminding them that their phones needed to be deposited in the box designated for them.

Ariel had a problem. She showed me her phone. It was broken. 

An alarm was set. But Ariel couldn't stop it as her touch screen wasn't responding to touch. The switch was switched to silent. And when the "snooze" was up and the phone alarmed, one could hit the power button to stop the alarm. But it was going to alarm every nine or so minutes. 

Ariel gave me her phone with the warning that I'd need to hit the power button every time the phone alarmed. (At no point did she even attempt to keep her phone.)

And so, every nine or so minutes, when the alarm alarmed, I would hit the button to stop the sound and set it to snooze again. 

Why did she bother bringing her phone to school? I mean, she couldn't do anything with it as the touch screen didn't work. Why bring the thing at all? 

Of course, I did not ask this question. When she was explaining the situation, I was in the process of getting class started, and it did not occur to me. When she collected her phone at the end of class, I was busy with end of class stuff. It was only later that I wondered. 

I hope she gets her phone fixed. It's silly to have a phone that one can't use. 

Too Late

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. 

Many of them did make up their work. Many of them claimed no name papers. 

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. 

Unappreciated

Tuesday morning.

The only reason I saw the call before I got to school was because I stopped at McDonald's on the way. 

(Sometimes I pick up a little something on the way to work. Their app gives me points that I can get a freebie with every so often.) 

It was from the sub desk. "Since the new teacher is starting today..."

Um, what? Today?!? 

Usually, the afternoon before I get a heads up. (I've done this start-the-year-off-in-a-vacant-class before.) But this time, the day of? Really?

So, I was a bit cranky about the whole thing. 

Not to the new teacher. She's lovely. Ms. D was in the fashion design world, but got bored with it and decided she really wanted to teach. (She gave an intro presentation to the kiddos.) She's excited to have her own class, and I think she'll do an amazing job. 

But I'm really kinda ticked at the district. 

I kinda feel like I've been slapped across the face. Perhaps that's not fair. But it's how I feel. 

(Apparently the school only found out that morning, too.)

I mean, that's the gig. I'm in the class until the new teacher starts. And then I walk away. And I'm good with that. I was getting a little irritated the last week or so, very ready to relinquish control of the classes. 

It's just that some transition stuff, like with the gradebook and the keys and the computer I checked out, is being yanked back as if I'm some sort of undesirable rather than the person who kept those classes going. For a month. The first month of school. 

So, it's all over. Except it's not. Because Ms. D already had some plans in September before she got hired, so I get to sub for her next week. This should be interesting.

Sixty Percent

I'm doing a long term subbing thing, so therefore grades must be due. 

It was the middle of class when the email popped up. "Oh, your progress reports are due next week," I announced. 

I know the drill. I had one assignment that I had not graded as of yet, but I had time to get that done and the grades submitted. (This is the first progress report of the year, so while I am only obligated to send them out for students in danger of failing, I figured I'd send them for everyone.) 

One small hitch... 

When I set up the gradebook, I followed what the other art teacher was doing. She had set up "projects" as 60% of their grade. The one assignment I needed to grade? Their one and only project thus far. 

Mostly they turned it in. I had maybe three students not do great on it, but the rest earned a 70% or higher. The majority got over 80%. 

But... No name papers. And some did not turn it in at all. Sigh. 

No project? Their grades fell off a cliff. They went from 100% (or high 90s) to 40% and below. Ouch. 

But there was time. I announced to every class that if their grade fell off a cliff, they were missing the project. And many then turned theirs in. 

Some though... Some students are going to get an awful surprise when they get that failing grade. I warned them... 

Things stabilize once there are more grades in the gradebook. A second project will make the one thus far count for less of their total. 

Late Friday (during the dreaded seventh period) I got an email from a parent. Her daughter swore she turned in her project, but her grade was now an F. 

I had to wait until after school to hunt that down. (Seventh period needed my full attention.) But sure enough, that class period had four no name papers. Yeah, I'm sure the girl's was one of those. 

So now I've pretty much hit all the things I have to do when on a long term. The new teacher can start. Any day now... 

Modern Pranks

Wednesday. Seventh period. As usual, I was standing outside the classroom "greeting" the students as they walked in.

"Your computer turned off..."

As they walk in the room, I have a slide up on the TV. Usually it's the agenda for the day, but since rearranging the room (see yesterday's post), I had their new seating chart on the screen so those who weren't sure where they sat could find their seats. 

I had gone into the power settings on my computer ages ago so that it wouldn't go to sleep while I was using it. (I have it timing out after two hours.) That it would just shut off...

And that's when I realized what had happened. It hadn't just shut off. Someone turned it off. 

It's a thing they do. The kiddos will reach over and turn off each other's computers. Log them out. I'm not sure which key combination does it, but it's two keys, and they can do it fast. 

As they came in, I logged back into the computer. But whatever key trick it is on Chromebooks does a strange thing to laptops--it puts the function key on lock. Which I discovered the hard way when I went to reinstate the music I usually play in the background for them. Deep sigh. 

I growled at them. They denied it was them. (It wasn't "them". It was one student. They probably saw who it was, but they weren't saying.) 

I quickly keyed in my password, found my files, and pulled up the slides for the day. And then we got to work. 

I managed to get through the lesson. I couldn't put on music. (The next day I sat down with the computer and figured out how to disengage the function key lock.) And now I know I have to watch my computer as well as all of them as they come into the room. 

Grrrr.

A Fit of Pique

Monday. Third period.

It was my prep period. And while I had believed that the new teacher was due to start, I had just learned that no, she wasn't getting clearance probably this week. I looked at the room, the little tables of four that I had created for seating as it was an art class, and I couldn't face seventh period in that configuration anymore. 

Seventh period was my large class. 35 students. And it was my least mature group. Too many of them had chosen this as play time, and I was sick of fighting them. 

So, I decided to rearrange the seating. Not that I had time to rearrange the desks and create a new seating chart (because there was no way I was letting them pick their own seats). But it had to be done. For my sanity. 

Changing routines for middle schoolers is not a great idea. And yet, that's what I did. Rather than collecting everything from them, I set up a turn in box. Rather than collecting everything daily, I created a packet thing. And rather than keeping them in tables, I put them in rows. 

I needed to make things easier on me. 

Did it? Well, it settled the other classes a bit. The classes that weren't really that big an issue. As for seventh period, that's still a work in progress. 

On Screen

Sergio is one of those kiddos that finds any excuse to get out of his seat. He's constantly outside "blowing his nose". His pencil always needs sharpening. And then there are times when I can't discern why he is up again. 

I changed some seats around to put Sergio nearer to me, because he was also feeding off the energy of the other boys who were goofing off. There's about three to five of them (depending on the day) in seventh period. 

Middle school boys at the end of the day? Yeah, this is pretty typical. 

Thursday. The previous day I had gotten an email that the first episode of school TV was available. There's a TV production class, and they go around and film various school things and put together a video that comes out every so often. (I've written about this before, but I can't locate the post.) 

I like the school TV, so I added it to my plan for the classes. First and fifth periods were happy to see the show. It was only about three minutes long. 

Then in came seventh period. I started off with their warm up. Then I opened up the episode...

Sergio... Well, Sergio didn't want me to play the episode. 

I should back up here. Since I had seen the episode twice already, I knew what the issue was. Sergio was in the episode. He interviewed a couple students. There was another bit where he was on screen acting something out (having to do with the new cell phone policy). It's safe to say he's taking the TV production class, and he's likely doing well already as he and his group got quite a lot of screen time. 

He did nothing embarrassing. Seriously. His parts were well done. 

But he was embarrassed. And squirming. 

He looked for tissue to "blow his nose". (We had run out.) He looked for a way out, ultimately ducking under his desk. 

I mean, he had to know that his clips were going to be seen. Right? 

I feel no remorse. I showed it. And then it was over. 

And then we went back to the art lesson for the day. 

Is this terrible of me? I probably shouldn't have enjoyed this as much as I did. But enjoy it I did.

Eye Lost It

Thursday, seventh period. I started them off with an explanation of value and coloring a page to understand grayscale, and then I had them attempt to draw an eye. 

Because their first project (a pattern thing) was due, I was behind on grading, and the new teacher was due to start the next week, I wasn't in the mood to collect this attempt at drawing an eye. I made the executive decision that the eye would go with all the face components in a "packet" that would be collected at a later time. 

I explained this to the class. I wrote it in the directions in their Google Classrooms. 

"Do I turn in my eye?"

If I had a dollar for every time a student asked me, I could take the next couple weeks off. Because, seriously? The kiddos do not listen. 

I had warned them of this. I warned them that I get cranky when I give an instruction and then get asked the exact question later. 

So, I stopped answering. "Could someone tell [insert student's name here] when the eye is due?"

And... There was always someone. So, some of them do listen. 

But not enough. 

Because I got tired of going around and collecting work from them, I acquired a turn in box where they could put all their finished work. And what did a few of them still turn in? Yup. The eye. 

The joys of middle school. 

Under the Pile

I did a lesson on pattern with the middle school art classes. (The art teacher who is not new, Mr. S, gave me some lessons to do with the classes while I'm there.) They were to "collect" ten different patterns. 

I had graded their papers, and I returned them. But, several students had not even turned the paper in. I know that they had done it, as I watched them do it. 

After returning all their papers, I announced to the class that if they did not get a paper back, I had never received theirs. If they had it, they could still turn it in. 

(I mean, I called for it on the day it was due. A couple times. But middle schoolers.)

Oscar: "I did it." 

Me: "But you didn't turn it in." 

So, he went to look for it. He opened his backpack... 

This is the third week of school. Right? And he already... 

Oscar's backpack was filled with papers. In a wad. Just shoved in the backpack willy-nilly. No notebooks. No folders. No organization whatsoever. 

On the first day of school, I told the class to get a pocket folder for the class. That way they could keep their papers organized. I know the other teachers give similar instructions. (Math classes ask for spiral notebooks. English classes ask for three ring binders. But there's guidance on what they'll use.) 

I asked him about a folder. He said he didn't have one. I said he might want to consider getting folders for each of his classes, so he could find what he's looking for more easily. 

He had handouts from English and history. Eventually, under that stack, he found the patterns assignment. Yup, it was done. And correctly. 

Will Oscar take my advice and get a folder? Probably not. Even though a nearby boy piped up with, "This folder only cost 25 cents." And the folder? Completely appropriate for the class. 

The Tardy Boys

Friday. Passing period to eighth period. 

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...

Quiet Coyote

One of the first week activities for this middle school art class that I'm covering until they hire a teacher was to create a "social contract" of rules the kiddos agreed to follow. (I mentioned this last week.) We started with them making a list, and then "together" we whittled it down to five rules. 

(So, it was more me going over the list they generated with them and then suggesting five rules that kind of hit upon what many of them said. I didn't have a lot of student participation.) 

While we did this, I decided I needed to add in one final bit. What signal would they prefer me to use when I needed to get their attention? 

This is an art class. My plan is to give them projects to work on, and then they can listen to music on headphones or talk while they're working. (Silence is great for some things. I don't think art is one of them.) 

I have a few of these in my toolbox, but I thought it might be nice to see what they preferred. I listed a few I know. 

The first class then suggested "waterfall". I knew of this one, but I hadn't used it before. Cool. Then all the classes that day decided they liked "waterfall" the best. 

The next day, "waterfall" wasn't as popular. But then eighth period suggested one I had never heard of before. "Quiet coyote". 

And that overwhelmingly won the vote. Okay then... 

We'll see how that goes. 

Procuring a Desk

Armani did not attend the first day our class met. (The school is on a block schedule, so each class meets every other day.) On the second day, I was surprised to find the kiddo in a wheelchair. 

I only had the kinds of desks where the chair part is attached to a desk part. (See the picture above.) There was no way Armani could get into a desk. He had a brace attached to one leg, so this was a temporary predicament. I asked him how long he'd be in the wheelchair, and he said a couple months. 

We made do that day. But for the long haul, this wasn't going to work.

One of the school administrators sent out an email about finding desks to accommodate wheelchairs. She was asking if anyone had one. I sent her a separate email mentioning Armani and that I'd need a desk if she found enough. 

The very next day I found a new desk waiting for me in the classroom. Woo-hoo! 

I found the perfect spot for it. 

In discussion with the new teacher next door, I found out that she was also in need of a wheelchair desk for a student who won't be getting out of his wheelchair. I told her who I contacted, and she contacted her as well. But to no avail. 

The next day that Armani was in class, he was still in the wheelchair, but his brace was gone. He got into the room, and then he stood up out of his wheelchair and sat at one of the student desks. Uh... 

Armani is mending. And so now he can put some weight on the leg, but I imagine he'll be using the wheelchair for a bit longer. 

But, now I had a wheelchair desk that I absolutely did not need. I gave it to the teacher next door. (Naturally.)

The next time the class met, Armani got into his seat again. We did not miss the wheelchair desk. 

So, how did the desk work in the other class? Ms. C told me that the desk just mysteriously disappeared from her room right before the class where it was needed. 

Deep sigh. Seriously? 

The joys of the public schools. 

The Demands

Ah, the joys of middle school... 

Before school started, the teachers all had this training about connecting with their students. One of the things they learned was about social contracts. The idea being that if the kiddos listed what they felt was appropriate behavior for the classroom, then they were more likely to buy in and behave appropriately in class. 

Or, at least that's the gist I got from the brief overview from the other teachers. I, of course, did not get to attend the training. (Not that I really wanted to. Besides, I got the gig too late to be included.) 

School administration told us that we were to go over social contracts and come up with the class "rules' by the end of the second week. 

So, in my second day's classes, I introduced the concept, and I had each group come up with five things that they'd agree to in class. For the most part, they listed things like "be kind" and "be responsible". Some repeated rules I went over with them. 

And then I looked over eighth period's lists... 

Some choice entries: 

• Use phones in class
• Have more time for lunch
• Longer snack time
• No dress code
• Start school at 11:00
• Pick our own seats

I mean, I'm totally down for starting school at 11 AM. But I don't think they get that school would then end at 6:30 PM. 

Yeah, some of them didn't quite understand the assignment. 

It should be an interesting conversation when we go over the full list and narrow it down. Because, yeah, they can wish for those things, but it's not like I have the power to change those things. 

(The school has a new cell phone policy this year. No phones. And they're giving us a spot where the phones can be locked away during class, although I haven't gotten the one for my class yet. Should be fun.)

Fortuitous Mistake

Last Monday was the first day of school. 

Because I got a long term in a vacant art class, and because I got to start a day before, I had prepared a first day of school ice breaker assignment. A scavenger hunt. 

I listed a few things that I knew would be true for some kiddos. Find a student who has a first name that does not contain an A. Find a student who went away on a trip this summer. Find a student who has a family member at the school. (I often hear about kiddos with siblings at the school, so I knew someone would.) Find a student wearing black. 

First thing in the morning, I headed for the copy room to make copies of the scavenger hunt. I had four (slightly) different versions on two sheets of paper (half sheets for each kiddo). I also had a questionnaire that asked things like name they wanted to be called in class and what their favorite food was. 

I was not the only one who had things to copy to start the school year. And two of the copy machines were broken (naturally). 

When it was my turn, I first copied the questionnaire. I had taken a quick count of planned students and got something near 180. I made 180 copies of the questionnaire. Then it was time to copy the scavenger hunt. I had two sheets of those, so I'd only need half the copies. Half of 180 is 90. 

Did you catch my mistake?

I finished my copies, and then I left the machine to the next person in line. (The line kept growing. We were all kind of scrambling.) I headed for the paper cutter as the scavenger hunts were half sheets. 

As I started cutting, I realized my stupid. I was right to halve my number, but I should have halved it again as I had two sheets with two scavenger hunts each. I only needed 45 copies. 

The school opened two new art classes. The art teacher next door is new to the school, and we've been kind of leaning on each other. She's helping me with art stuff, and I'm helping her with other school stuff that new teachers don't necessarily know (like how to set up the online gradebook). 

We were comparing notes as to what we were going to do with our classes. I mentioned the scavenger hunt. She thought that was an excellent idea. And as I had double the copies I needed... 

They didn't go to waste after all. 

And the activity went surprisingly well. The kiddos got into it, but they didn't get crazy. I will totally use this again if the need arises. 

Starting from Scratch

The first day of school was last Monday. The Wednesday before that I got a call from the sub desk. Would I be interested in a vacant art class? 

(A "vacant" class is a class with no teacher assigned. This usually means they are in the process of hiring a teacher for the class.)

As I hadn't been aware of any art teachers retiring, I asked whose class it used to be. I was informed that the class was new. 

Then I asked if I could start a day early. Having had to scramble on the first day of school before, I knew the best thing I could do for my sanity was to come in early, get the lay of the land, and attempt to get some things set up so I wasn't starting ice cold. (They let me last year, and it was so very helpful.) 

The sub desk attempted to get a hold of someone at the school but could not, so she made the executive decision to start me a day early. She emailed them to let them know. 

Of course, they had not gotten the email when I arrived. I joined the beginning-of-year all-staff meeting, and when the (new) principal mentioned me, I informed her I was actually present. For which she was greatly relieved. 

Yeah, we all had the same idea. 

And it was a good thing too, for once I finally got keys to the classroom and got into the room, I found that I... had... nothing... 

The school added two new art classes. They had hired one of the teachers. (They hired someone for the position, but he ended up going elsewhere.) And the school assigned us to rooms that were used as detention rooms for the past few school years. 

I had a room with bare walls and 34 desks. There was a teacher desk that the custodians informed me they had added that week. And there was a white board. (I mean, there were doors and floors and windows. A ceiling. Lights. It used to be a science classroom, so there was a demonstration bench at the front and built in low cabinets in the back.) 

However, the air conditioning unit worked wonderfully. (Which was excellent as we're getting our late summer heat wave. The kiddos have complained that it's "too cold". So, yes, I'm well-pleased with the a/c.) 

So, that Friday afternoon, I had a mad scramble. What could I cobble together? I got class counts and learned my largest class would have 39 students. That meant I needed five more desks. Oh, and that teacher desk? Desk, but no chair. But custodial was around specifically for this purpose, so I talked to the lead guy. 

I also did not have technology. I needed one of the big TVs that we use now in class. There was no Chromecart for computers for the kiddos. And I'd need a teacher computer. 

Long story short (too late): those in charge were on top of things, and I had everything except the teacher computer before I left for the day. The teacher computer took a few days, for reasons. (Don't even ask about the tech issues they were having all week.) 

By the time I left, I was exhausted. (I was so exhausted I developed a migraine the next day.) But I had the desks configured in a way I thought might work. I had made sure my ViewBoard was working (so I could create slides to show the class to get through some sort of lesson). And I made sure I could use one of the student Chromebooks until I could get a teacher computer. 

So, now I'm diving into a new school year with a temp gig. With nothing. Sigh. The things I do to work the first day of school.