The Warning

It was snack time when a knock in the rhythm of "Shave and a Haircut" was tapped on the door. That's code. It means another teacher is seeking admittance, so I answered. 

(Students pound. And kick. And we tend to ignore those knocks during our break times, especially if we just really don't want to deal with it.)

It was Ms. N. (I've subbed for her a few times, and I worked with her on various long terms I did at that school.) She was popping in as Ms. K (the teacher I was covering) had asked her to. The upcoming fourth period...

Uh oh. I was in for it.

Eighth grade history. Ms. K's classes are generally well-behaved. This class was not.

(The first clue was the assignment. They were to read a magazine and answer questions based on some of the articles. These magazines are written for classes, and they only come out on days when the teacher wants to keep the students busy.)

But, actually, things didn't go too terribly. It helps to be proactive. And it helps to have Ms. N threaten them at the beginning of the period, warning them that they didn't want to get out of line. 

"It's never this quiet in here." 

Considering that the room wasn't silent, I worried at how loud they usually were. 

So, I focused on keeping them seated. And that took most of my attention. Seriously. Some of them were doing anything and everything to avoid the work and get out of their seats.

But when Ms. N called about midway through the period to ask if she needed to buzz back by and threaten them again, I said no. They weren't throwing things. Many were making progress on the busy work. And I was keeping after those that were just itching for an excuse to play around.

Not a bad day. It would have been so much worse if we hadn't started out as we did. (And the period after that was way better behaved.)

Forewarned

Eighth grade math. They were doing test corrections. That is, they were going through their tests and reworking the problems they got wrong. This was a mostly voluntary exercise as if they chose not to do it, the teacher wasn't going to force them. It could only improve their grade.

Several of the students were familiar to me from the vacant English class at the beginning of the year. (I will probably say this a lot this school year.)

Dylan was one of the lesser difficult students. I had bigger problems than him, but he totally took advantage of the situation and played rather than worked. So, when he informed me that he has a D in the English class, I wasn't surprised.

Their grades are online, and they can access them at any time. While I was covering the English class, I warned the students that while I was not inputting their assignments (I didn't have access as a sub), their work did still count. I warned them that they'd go from having zero assignments and no grade to having five assignments in a blink.

Dylan showed me the breakdown for his grade. He was missing several assignments, including two that I had assigned...

"I told you those were going to count," I said.

And, really, at this point it's probably too late to turn those assignments in.

Sigh. I did warn them. And, really, it was kind of nice to be able to say I told you so.

Fairly Warned

I've been struggling with this post for days. It still might not make much sense...

It was Thursday. I was covering the Mandarin class. No, not that one. Different school. Apparently Mandarin is a thing now. At least for this school district.

That morning, I woke with a sore throat that went into full blown head cold for the holiday weekend. (If you noticed that I wasn't around the blogs, that was why.)

It turned out to be not a bad day. Which is a good thing when one is starting to feel miserable. However, I was warned about sixth period. They were the "interesting" group.

When the teacher told me this (Ms. L was there that morning as she was chaperoning a field trip to a local temple), I took a look at the seating chart (with pictures!), and I did recognize the students she warned me about.

Jake was one. I did get to chide him on pretending to be Steven. When the other students overheard this, I informed them that Jake preferred to be called Steven. And I told Ms. L about this later. I so hope they tease him about it for the rest of the school year--from that day, two weeks. 

Ms. L explained that she had placed one girl, Monica, as a sort of buffer between the boys. If the boys got too bad, I was to let Monica move away.

Class started, and Ryder shooed Monica out of her seat and took it. Monica was a willing participant in this, so much so that when I informed them that I had an accurate seating chart, they did not move.

Okay then. Just another addition to the note.

Towards the end of the period, a few of the students who had gone on the field trip returned. This is pretty standard.

But it freaked the other kiddos out. "Ms. L is back?!?"

Suddenly, Monica and Ryder knew exactly where their seats were, and they were in them.

Ms. L did not return. After the class was dismissed for the day, I did manage to locate Ms. L and let her know how the day went. She found the seat swap interesting.

Alas, poor Monica was in for it. (Although, one of the boys I was warned about did not behave badly, so he got a pleasant surprise the next day.)

Forewarned

Sorry, Jeanne. I know how you hate it when I have to deny restroom passes... 

You know you're going to have issues when this is in the lesson plan:

Keep an eye on these guys--a lot of class clowns (mostly boys). THEY TAKE ADVANTAGE OF RESTROOM PRIVILEGES. If anyone asks, keep their cell phone, and if they are gone more than 4 minutes, PLEASE let me know because they will lose bathroom privileges until May if they take advantage of you. I'm not kidding... 

And this was for a class of seniors. Uh oh.

So, when I've barely started my opening remarks, and I get in hand in the air from one of the students listed as a restroom pass abuser, and he's asking for a pass...

Yeah, I just called a moratorium on all restroom passes. Because really. With a warning like that, it was going to get ugly. And this class was right after lunch, so it wasn't like they didn't have a chance to go before they got there.

I braced for the deluge anyway. I was sure someone was going to "have to go" or have "an emergency". (I can't know for sure, and I would have totally let them go in that instance.) But not a one of them asked after I made my blanket statement.

I think I dodged a bullet. Or I was very, very lucky.