Unexpected Knowledge

Have you heard of Nellie Bly?

Eighth grade English. The students were reading chapter 4 from her book Ten Days in the Madhouse. They have a textbook that contains various readings, and the current unit is on suspense. 

Because eighth graders, I decided it would be a good idea to give them a little context. Each reading has an introduction, so we read that, and then I went about explaining (just a bit) about who she was.

Only, it turned out that was unnecessary. 

Often, I'm surprised at what they don't know. This time, I was surprised by what they did.

Upon further questioning, I gleaned that last school year they had had a project where they researched a historical figure. Some of them chose Nellie Bly. They had to do a presentation. Some of them remembered seeing a classmate's presentation on her. 

It was only two or three students each class who remembered. But that was two or three more students than I expected. 

A Day Off to Vote

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 😉 

It's election day here in the U.S. (We do mail in ballots in California now, so some of us have already voted.) I know this idea has come up a few times (and I'm short of ideas)...

What if election day was a national holiday? 

More Meh

So, still, I'm not doing much by way of knitting. I have one small project going, although to call it a "project" is to overstate things greatly. And it's nothing much to write about.

I am occasionally working on the Calash scarf. Very occasionally. The last time I wrote about it (October 10th), it looked like: 

Today, it's:

Progress. 

But at this rate, I'd better find something new to do, and quickly, or else I'm going to soon have no projects to work on.

(Yes, at this point I should be busily working away on Christmas. But I'm not. Everyone's probably getting gift cards this year.)

Heart Break

Third period government. I was in a classroom two doors down from the success seminar classroom. 

The class was... meh. These are seniors, so presumably they're more mature. But too many of them were on their phones rather than doing the assignment (which was on money and elections). They weren't too terrible, mostly mellow once they settled down, so I had nothing to complain about.

Janine had a finished project from ceramics. It was a small mug with no handle. It was a cute little thing, and several of the students stopped to admire her handiwork. 

We had ten minutes left in class. Tyson slipped into the seat in front of her. His arm swung along her desk area, his elbow making contact with the mug. 

Swoop.

The mug fell to the floor and shattered. 

Ouch!

It happened so fast. Janine was understandably upset, but I didn't hear Tyson offer an apology. He gave excuses. "It broke really easy. That's cheap clay." 

I told him he owed her big time. He wanted to figure out how much that meant in dollars. 

I don't know about people sometimes. 

There wasn't much to do. I left a comment in the note, but this is not really the sort of thing that needs to be punished. Janine wouldn't have gotten to take the piece home if it hadn't been graded, so she's only out the finished object, not the grade.

Still, I'm sad. It was a nice little mug. It would have been nice if Janine had gotten to use it.

Strange Timing

Last week was Red Ribbon Week. Red Ribbon Week is an awareness campaign about the dangers of drug use. The middle schools were doing a "spirit week" where they got dress up days. They had the red ribbons tied on everything. It's a thing. 

Wednesday, I was at the continuation high school. Math. 

Fifth period. I got a call from the office. Who had just returned from the restroom? 

It was a curious question as I had a student out in the restroom, but the only student who had just gotten to class had just arrived with a tardy pass. 

When the student who had been in the restroom returned to class, I got another call from the office. At this point things got clarified. Who had been out of the room? I gave the clerk those names. 

About ten minutes later, the school counselor arrived. She told the two students who I had named to get their stuff and come with her. And she was not happy.

(The counselor is usually all smiles and pleasantries. The students like her. To get her stern voice was a change I was not expecting.)

A few minutes later, the boy who had actually had a restroom pass from me returned. The other boy did not.

Luckily, the next period I had a conference, so I went up to the office to ask. (Well, I went up to the office to use the restroom, but while I was there, I figured I'd find out what was up.) 

The answer was succinct: "Drug deal."

The custodian happened to be walking by the restroom and looked in. He saw one boy surreptitiously hand another boy something. The clerk watched where the boys returned to and then called us teachers to get names. 

Where I got confused was with the boy with the tardy pass. Apparently he had come to school late, and then instead of coming straight to class, he made a pit stop in the restroom. 

And when he got to class, well, let's just say that him buying drugs in the school restroom does not surprise me. In fact, considering how he looked and acted, it made that make a whole lot more sense. 

(The boy who actually had permission to use the restroom was probably just wrong place, wrong time.)

It's Red Ribbon Week. Why'd they have to do this in the specific week that's all about living drug free? 

*shakes head*

A Tale of Two Classes

Having been released from the success seminar, I fell right back in to day-to-day subbing. Monday, I had an eighth grade history class. 

Sadly, we've gone back to the days of having a travelling teacher. These are teachers who do not have classrooms of their own. They go to rooms where the regular teacher has a conference period, and they use the rooms for single periods. 

It makes for a chaotic day for me. 

And, things did not go well. I had wild students. We had a video to watch. They did not watch it. I was glad to see the end of this day. 

Tuesday I had an eighth grade math class. 

And, the day was completely different. The kiddos worked in near silence for the period. I had some of the usual behaviors, but nothing too terrible. It was kind of a boring day for me. 

Why am I linking these two classes? Because they both had the same students. 

Well, not exactly. But so many of the students walked into the math class and said, "Hey, you were my sub yesterday." 

It happens.

It's amazing to me how two classes at the same school with students in common can be so vastly different.

This is why when people ask me which school in the district I prefer, I can't answer. It's because it depends. I can have a bad day followed by a good day, even with the same kiddos. 

Subbing is such a varied job. I think that's why I keep doing it.

Never Too Late?

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 😉 

What if it's too late to stop it? 

(Yes, I'm being very general here. I can think of at least three things that I could make this mean, but I'm not going to limit it that way. So, take it as you will. The first thing that pops into your head is the "it".)