An Abundance of Christians

I don't normally use students' real names on this blog, but I couldn't let this pass without commenting.

I was called in to cover an extra period on "my" prep. 9th grade special ed. English. Small class--there were about 13 of them. And as I was going through the roll, someone clued me in.

"Which Christian do you mean? There are four..."

Yup. Four boys named Christian in one class.

I once had a class that had three Abigails, but that was a full-sized class of 30-something. And then, of course, there was the time that there were seven Joses on the soccer team.

And two of the Christians had the same last name.

Because that's not going to be confusing at all.

This reminds me of the Jose Lopez cluster of '06. One school had like a dozen of them. (I'm exaggerating. But only slightly.) There were multiple times that I had two (I think once I had three) Jose Lopezes in the same class.

One Christian informed me he went by his last name. (Understandable.) He was actually very well behaved. The second didn't make much of an impression (which means he wasn't an issue either). The last two... Well, they have made appearances on this blog before...

And, they kind of look alike. Not exactly, but close.

I'm not saying any more. Privacy and them being minors and all.

Spoiler

At the heart of much speculative fiction (and fiction in general) is a question. What if? On Tuesdays I like to throw one out there and see what you make of it. Do with it as you please. If a for-instance is not specified, feel free to interpret that instance as you wish. And if you find this becomes a novel-length answer, I'd appreciate a thank you in the acknowledgements ;)

It's election day in the U.S. It's been a long, drawn out election season, and I am so ready for it to be over. So, rather than rehash the presidential race (let's just not go there, okay?), I thought we could think about the other races. Races like for Congress, the Senate, or state and/or local offices.

What if you personally knew one of the candidates? A long time ago, this person did something despicable (possibly criminal), but got away with it. You have first-hand knowledge of this. Would you take the story public? (Especially if you knew that no one might believe you.)

Scenes from the Farmers' Market

Yesterday at the farmers' market...

Left Side of Booth

Right Side of Booth

Close Up

Recognize what all those earrings and Christmas ornaments are hanging on? (Hint: look at the wallpaper surrounding this post.) 

Still tweaking my setup. I like how this turned out. Now I just need to find a better way to create some shade for me (so I'm not in direct sunlight all day). Ah, the trials of the fair skinned... 

Also, I'm in the process of getting my Christmas ornaments listed... 

If you're interested in purchasing, let me know.

How was your weekend?

Juan, a.k.a. Julio

It was the kind of math class where I had the students for two periods, because the students needed extra help with math. So, naturally, none of them really wanted to be there. Which, of course, means that I was spending all my time on behavior issues rather than getting any time, really, to spend on math.

The boy introduced himself as Juan. And I spent much of that first period with them calling on him. Not to answer any questions. I just wanted him to settle down so I could go over the assignment with the class.

He wasn't the only one, of course, but just one of the most vocal.

Between their first period in class and second, they had lunch. Upon returning from lunch, I went back over the roll to make sure all the students had returned.

"Caleb?"

"Juan" answered.

It was then I remembered "Juan" from a previous class. He had told me to call him Juan then, too. Juan is not his middle name either (his middle initial is not J).

No wonder the rest of the class had so much fun calling him Juan. Oh well, whatever.

But for the second class, he was done with Juan. He said to call him Julio.

Okay, fine. I'll call him whatever he likes (well, within reason). I just had to make sure to call him Caleb in my note (for the not settling in class, not for using a different name).

Red Handed

Survey of biology. 4th period. I had covered the class the prior week, and things had not gone so well.

I insisted on silent attention while I was going over instructions. They would not stop talking. In these circumstances I can be a bit stubborn. What should have taken me two minutes took me fifteen. And that made me the enemy.

This day I still didn't have their attention, but I had less to say. I passed out their papers and left them to it.

Later, I did my circuit of the class, checking on the various students. Kareem wasn't doing anything. I reminded him that his work was due at the end of the period. He complained that he had no idea what to do. He said I had not "taught" them. (I'm not sure what he wanted taught. It was a worksheet to complete.)

Deep sigh.

They left. Then 5th period came in. Same assignment. Much more well-behaved group.

One student went to staple something, and he found the stapler empty. I found staples, and I went to put the staples in the stapler. Only, the stapler was broken. The spring thingy was missing.

Oh! That's what that long, tightly coiled spring was! I knew where I'd seen it.

While Kareem was telling me I was a failure as a teacher, he wound a long spring through his hair, around his head, and just generally pulled it apart. At the time I didn't know what it was.

Kareem was long gone, but I at least had the name of the one who broke the teacher's stapler. Too bad he made himself memorable. If he hadn't spent so much time doing nothing, I might never have noticed.

Accused

"He hit me."

I had been warned about Rafael. There was a whole paragraph in the lesson plan about him. He had a one-on-one aide. If Rafael acted up three times, I was to instruct the aide to take Rafael out to the office.

7th grade world history. They had a packet to work on. I meandered near Rafael several times, and never did I see anything written on his packet. He wasn't even trying. Well, he was trying to play around. But as most of the rest of the class was ignoring him, all he could do was dance around in his seat and make loud observations.

When Rafael accused his aide of hitting him, my attention had been elsewhere. But while I wasn't looking directly at him, my head was turned in his general direction. I would have noticed movement if there had been any. (It's like when a student raises a hand. I may not be looking at the student, but the movement gets my attention.)

The aide had a full seat between himself and Rafael. The aide did not hit him. I would have noticed that sort of movement.

I went over to Rafael. He repeated his accusation. I told him I didn't believe him. (He wasn't holding a body part and moaning. I saw no marks on him. None of the other students in the vicinity chimed in as witnesses.)

"I've known Mr. C a while," I said. "I know he did not hit you."

Rafael admitted he hadn't been hit. So, I moved on.

I wonder about these kids sometimes. How do they get this way? I wonder if he'll ever calm down or if he's going to end up in an alternative placement.

Ancient Aliens

At the heart of much speculative fiction (and fiction in general) is a question. What if? On Tuesdays I like to throw one out there and see what you make of it. Do with it as you please. If a for-instance is not specified, feel free to interpret that instance as you wish. And if you find this becomes a novel-length answer, I'd appreciate a thank you in the acknowledgements ;)

Today's question was inspired by Robert Bennett's Xenophobia, which he's writing over on his blog...

What if we sent archeologists to Mars? What if they found evidence of an ancient civilization? 

Oh, and if you haven't been following the story, you should go right now and get started.