Fight Fight Fight

It was the Thursday before a three-day weekend (for Veteran's Day), and so, of course there were more teacher absences than subs available. I was asked to cover a class on my conference period. As I wasn't scrambling for anything, I was quite happy to help out. (It doesn't hurt that I get paid extra for covering another class.)

I had a choice, so I picked the class that was closest to the room I was in the rest of the day. (Mr. B's classroom is kind of back of beyond compared to the rest of the campus.) It was chemistry.

It was the first class of the day. I got a chance to chat with Ms. N before she left. (She was chaperoning a field trip.) She mentioned that the class was small and her best behaved. 

I recognized a couple students from success seminar last year. (Not problem students, like Kress.) 

As advertised, they got to work and weren't an issue.

Because of the weather, I had left the door open.

It was more than halfway through the period. Suddenly, a cacophony of voices erupted somewhere outside. It was such a sudden change and loud enough that we all knew what was happening.

A fight.

I've been proximate to enough of these to recognize the sounds. As had the students. Someone noted that it sounded like a fight. After less than a minute, I heard a golf cart speed by. (Security all drive golf carts on campus.) 

The thing that I didn't expect? Not one student moved from their seats. 

We all heard it. Usually, half the class would have run to the door to look out and see if they could see what was happening. This time? Not. A. One.

I was so shocked, but I said nothing. I didn't want to give them any ideas.

The noise quieted down fairly quickly. I assume several security descended upon the fight and removed the combatants. That's generally how these things go.

The chemistry students continued to work on their assignments. (They were practicing dealing with significant figures.) 

I was so impressed by them not reacting to the fight that I made sure to mention this in my note to their teacher. They deserve kudos for things like this.

The Vanishing Student

The long-term special ed social studies class I'm covering is all juniors and seniors. And I haven't had any major behavior issues so far. The classes are pretty mellow, and the students mostly do their work. Kind of.

But there is some drama.

Elena is a student I met in success seminar last year. She's bright. But she's got some issues. 

On Wednesday, Elena was on time for third period. She was all ready to work. Problem was, she was enrolled in fifth period, not third. 

She didn't want to leave, but I figured her science teacher would be missing her. I sent her on her way. (I even called her science teacher to tell her that Elena had come to the wrong class.) 

She did return fifth period. But she wasn't so much in a working mood. She finished quickly, or she didn't do the work, I'm not sure which.

And then, towards the end of the period, she went to "get some air" just outside the classroom. 

Then I saw her through the window, walking away from class.

Sigh. 

***

I don't usually do this, but right now it's Tuesday the 14th, and I'm editing this post to add information. (I wrote the above on Sunday.) Because I just got a call from the attendance office. 

The attendance clerk called to verify Elena's attendance on that Wednesday. See, I was the only teacher to mark her present (although that mark was a tardy), and Elena's grandmother was calling the school to verify.

Luckily (or unluckily) for Elena, her presence that day was now memorable, so I could relate to the attendance clerk the above story. (Although, now I see that Elena never did make it to her third period class.) 

This leaves me with questions. Elena came to school, but only attended one period? I know she was on campus third period (as she had been in the room), but since she didn't go to her third period class, where did she spend the rest of third period? 

I'm not sure exactly what's going on with Elena. I get a sense that she's going through some things. Some major things. 

I'm used to not getting the whole story. I hope Elena gets the help she needs.

Grades Due, Naturally

The start of this new long-term assignment has gone pretty smoothly. The classes are pretty mellow. There's an instructional aide to clue me in on what I need to do. The lesson plans are complete.

My first day, the secretary in charge of subs was out sick, but I knew who checks out keys so I got that done. I even managed to talk to one of the assistant principals about getting access to the gradebooks. (It was the wrong assistant principal--the other one had that access. But Dr. T told Mr. C, and it got done.) 

I started on a Friday. On Monday, I knew there was one thing I needed to find out.

When were progress reports due? 

Because, I knew.

It had been about a month since the end of the quarter. And considering how for my last three long-terms grades had been due almost immediately after me beginning, I knew it had to be very, very soon.

(I even mentioned this here on the blog: the vacant English class, the English class last spring, and success seminar.) 

I called the secretary in charge of subs, but she was again out sick. Who could I ask? I figured I might as well ask one of the assistant principals.

He got back to me right away. I asked on a Monday. Grades were due Wednesday. Naturally.

Before Mr. B went out, he left current grades. So, it wasn't a big deal.

At least this time I was on top of things.

And I know the next grades due are the semester grades, which won't be due until after Mr. B returns. So, I should be safe. *knocks on wood*

Holiday Décor

What if? It's the basis of many stories. We ask. We ponder. We wonder. 

On Tuesdays I throw one out there. What if? It may be speculative. It may stem from something I see. It may be something I pull from the news. 

Make of it what you will. If a for instance is not specified, interpret that instance as you wish. And if the idea turns into a story, I'd appreciate a thank you in the acknowledgements 😉

So, with everything *gestures wildly at the world* going on right now, it's no surprise that I've been made aware of many Jewish people who have decided not to decorate for Hanukkah this year (at least outdoors). And I find that sad. And infuriating. And probably smart. But most of all, I find that wrong.

But people suck, and we can't trust them to behave like reasonable citizens.

Which leads me to this week's "what if?" question. (I don't actually expect anyone to do this, but what if?)

What if we all decorated for Hanukkah this year, at least, the non-Jewish amongst us? It would make us a target, but maybe we need to direct some of that anger and anti-Semitism away from those who have gotten way too much of it.

Just Started

Band one doesn't look like much. Band two has a bit more to it:

And that's as far as I've gotten. (This is the tree pattern I talked about in this previous post.) 

This might become a school project, as I find that the long-term gig gives me more time than I expected. I've got a couple other things I want to finish, too. I'm not sure what I'm going to work on this week, but it might actually be more than one thing. The cooler weather has gotten my still hands itching.

The New Gig

A couple weeks ago, I was offered a long-term gig in a special ed social studies class. That job started last Friday.

I'm vaguely familiar with the class. I covered it in December three years ago. Yes, 2020. At that time I was subbing from home.

On Friday I started off class by introducing myself. The classes knew that Mr. B would be out as he was having surgery. (He's due back the last week before winter break.) They were a bit surprised that he was already gone. (I'm sure he told them when he'd be out. This is kind of standard when it comes to student reactions.) 

It was sixth period. I did my intro, mentioning that Mr. B was out until December. One of the students remembered that he was having surgery.

"So, when he comes back, he'll be able to walk?"

Mr. B is in a wheelchair. I don't know what caused his paralysis. (I've never asked.) And I don't know what he's having surgery for. But I highly doubt that some surgery (that he's only going to need a few weeks to recover from) is going to miraculously make him no longer wheelchair-bound.

And I don't think Mr. B even part way hinted that this would be the case.

I had the student repeat the question for Ms. P, the class' instructional aide. I let her answer. I didn't want to ruin my rapport on my first day.

So far, this class seems pretty mellow. Which is good news for me, not so good news for the blog. We'll see. Hopefully I can find something interesting to blog about for the duration.

Forgeries

Thursday. Seventh period. Seventh grade world history.

The class was calm. Cooperative. I gave instructions, and they got to work. 

Then, fifteen minutes later, seven or eight students walked in, five of them with hall passes. And inwardly, I groaned. If only they had stayed gone...

I know. That's terrible of me to say. But they were all the troublemakers. The loud ones. The ones who couldn't stay seated and weren't doing any work. (This was my third time with the group as I had gotten an almost complete week.) 

Once I got them sort of settled (as settled as they were going to get), I went to amend the online attendance. I went through the passes. 

On all but one pass, "not excused tardy" was scratched out and "excused" had been written. 

It was the way that the "not excused tardy" was scratched out and the way that "excused" had been written that was noteworthy. They had scribbled out the "not excused tardy" as if they were trying to blot it out, but they did a terrible job of it. "Excused" was very light and in block letters (unlike how the counselor had written the pass). It looked like they had used the outside walls as a hard surface on which to write.

I did not believe that for a second. I marked them all tardy.

One of the other late students (who hadn't bothered to bring me a pass) told me that they shouldn't be marked tardy as they had been locked in the new building on campus. 

I nodded. And I marked him tardy.

Because that's another thing that didn't pass the smell test. While all the classrooms lock to keep people out, none of them lock from the inside. I've been in the new building, and I know that if you're in the building and you want out, you can easily get out. There are many exits.

They don't realize that I've been around a while. They were definitely trying to get one over on the sub. Too bad they tried in on the sub who knows her way around that school.