My Bad. Or Not.

I was working with my technology students one afternoon last week and one of the boys was not on task. He was not working on his animated movie, but was in Power Point creating something. I called him down and he calmly told me that I had told him to work on that particular project. Which I had. But I had forgotten. So, I said "Sorry, Justin. My bad."

And the kids groaned in agony. GROANED. "Mrs. Who, that is so old! Nobody says that anymore!".

And here I thought I was just on the cutting edge of kid lingo. Not. So I asked them what they said in place of My bad. And they proceeded to show me some hand slap, spin movement which ended by saying "Peace" to each other. I couldn't duplicate it if I tried. I have no idea whether this is something that replaced "My bad" just at my school or whether this is the new big thing.


Sigh.


I miss the days when everything was groovy. I really liked groovy.

Dear Gabby

Note found written on notebook paper with purple marker by the bus lane at my elementary school.


Dear Gabby,

I and Cherelle are NOT your friend forever and tomorrow dont try to be our friend.

P.S. Dont ever call us again cause we are going to hang up on you.

P.S.S. Also dont call us ever ever again not even the next day and the day after that and not for 5 years!!

P.S.S.S. We dont like you.





Email written to Cherelle 25 years later:

Cherelle!

How great to hear from you. How long has it been? I guess close to 25 years since we were in elementary school. Right before my dad was transferred to New York and we moved here. You are right - that WAS a lucky move for me. I met my husband who is the president of a global company. And what a coincidence that you are applying for a job with his company!

What a great job too! The salary is incredible and you get to travel the world. I had no idea that you had been interviewing with one of our vice-presidents and the position had been narrowed down to two candidates. You are so qualified for this position!

In response to your question, I would be HAPPY to talk to my husband about hiring you. In fact, I really JUST CAN HARDLY WAIT until he gets home to talk to him about it. You can count on it.

Love and Kisses,

Gabby

P.S. I have scanned and attached to this message a note you sent me in elementary school.

P.S.S. You should probably count on not getting the job. Also don't call me ever ever again not even the next day and the day after that and not for 5 years!! Or 50.

P.S.S.S. And. I don't like you.

I Am SO Cool (Not)

There is only one thing wrong with working with elementary age kids for almost twenty years. Well, yeah, OK. There might be more than one. But one is all I can think of right now at my advanced age. At some point (probably about six months in) you lose your coolness quotient. The kids are talking about games, toys, actors, singers, bands - you have never even heard of. You become completely uncool. And you used to be cool. Really. In college you were cool. Really. Seriously.

I met with my technology club students last week and we were working on creating a silly, funny script for their last day of the news broadcast. We always have a funny newscast on the last day of school, just for fun. And I suggested that they say some actor was going to be a new teacher at our school next year. The girls squealed with excitement and suggested Nat Wolf.

In hindsight, I should have just said enthusiastically "Yeah! He would be perfect!". But I can't think that fast on my feet anymore. So, instead, I said "Who?"

Luckily the kids like me. I give them pizza and doughnuts and let them play on the computers. What's not to like? So they didn't roll their eyes. But it was close. They explained who he was. In a band. Acting in a movie. They talked slowly. They spoke loudly. Clearly, I was an ancient hag who had no grasp at all of current events.

I used to be cool. Really. Really I was.

Striking A Spark

"No entertainment is so cheap as reading, nor any pleasure so lasting. She will not want new fashions nor regret the loss of expensive diversions or variety of company if she can be amused with an author on her bookshelf." — Lady Montagu, providing advice on raising her granddaughter, 1752

I had a book fair set up last week in the library. I have several book fairs a year, even though they are a great deal of work and hassle. The kids love them. And I always think, maybe, if I can get one kid to find one book that will ignite that spark, I will have succeeded. The spark I've been trying to ignite with all of them. The spark that will ignite a love of reading.

Some of them come to me with the spark. They have been read to by their parents, they have parents and other family members who read, they can recite Mother Goose rhymes and smile before the end of the fairy tale because they already know the end. They converse about Harry Potter and Lemony Snickett as if they were personal friends. They are happy when I hand them a new book I have found.

Some of them find the spark with me. They begin to read more and more, they come back to the library to ask for another book like the one I gave them, they look up in confusion when I turn off the light and it is time to line up because library class is over. They were lost in their book.

Some will never find the spark. Those are the ones who make me sad. They are the reason I have book fairs, keep reading aloud, keep recommending books, keep buying new books like graphic novels, keep trying and trying and trying. But some will never get it.

So I set up the book fairs. I unpack the boxes and make the displays and take the money and help them find books and then pack it all up again. It's a lot of work. But I'm looking for that spark.

And, sometimes I find it.

I Have a Little Shadow

My technology students have little shadows this week. And for the rest of the school year. When I first started working with the fifth graders three years ago to create, produce and show an electronic morning show through the school's direct feed system, it was an incredible amount of work. We figured out together how to work the video camera, how to use Power Point to create and show the morning songs and how to tie it all together into a production of which we could all be proud. It didn't take me long to realize that once those students left, I would be starting all over again with a new group. So, I created shadows. The fifth graders would work with fourth graders who had expressed an interest in being in the technology club, for the last few weeks of school, teaching them all the tricks of the trade. When they showed up the next year, they would have a basic understanding of how things work. Easier for me. Fun for them.

I really had no idea what to expect the first year we did this. I honestly thought maybe the older kids would be a little stingy with their knowledge. This was their baby, after all. They were the stars of the school. Kindergarten students pointed to them in the hall and were awed that, oh wow, that's the person who did the weather on TV this morning! They knew all about the equipment. Teachers asked them to videotape events in the classroom because, frankly, they didn't know how to do it. That's a lot for an elementary student to experience.

But raise your expectations and they will rise to meet them. I stood back and let them teach. And teach they did. They were thrilled to share their knowledge. Excited. Gentle, patient, kind. They showed the same thing over and over again. How to put in the tape. How to tape. How to pause. How to play. They did not lose their tempers. They reassured panicky fourth graders that it was OK to mess up. They praised and smiled and nodded. The fourth graders looked to them for guidance. And they glowed when they got it.

When the fourth graders came back that next year as fifth graders, they fell right into the rhythm. They knew what to do and they were good at it. I stepped to the background and let them work. One of our former fifth graders catches the bus for middle school at our elementary school and waits in the library on bad weather days. He was there when the shadows started working this week. He looked at the two students getting out the video camera and smiled wistfully at me. "I remember when we did that." He said. "It was great." "You mean putting on the show?" I asked. "No", he replied, surprised. "When we taught the fourth graders how to put on the show."

He had enjoyed putting on the show. But what he remembered was teaching the other students how to do it. I've been trying to figure out why. And I think I know. It's because he could share what he knew with them. And he could see them learn. And then watch them use what they had learned. And that's a powerful experience. For any teacher. Of any age. Even a fifth grader.

Let me show you how we choose the morning song.

No Salivary Glands

This is why I am a teacher. A librarian. To mold young, impressionable minds and encourage them to move on into the wide world with a firm foundation...oh, crap. That's not why. It's because I just learn more interesting stuff every day! We just had a guy from The Fish, Game and Other Interesting and Bizarre Creatures Commission (or some title like that) come to school to present a program for some of our students. And did you know? (I just know you didn't) Why raccoons wash their food? Hah! No! You are SO WRONG. It's not to clean it. It's because THEY HAVE NO SALIVARY GLANDS. They dip that food to get it wet so it will slide right down their little throats. Edited to add - apparently this is totally INCORRECT INFORMATION. I was contacted by someone who knew more than me about raccoons (and that could be just about anyone) and they do, indeed, have salivary glands. Someone needs to inform the Fish and Wildlife guy.

Now, I just find this so very interesting. I knew most of the other information he presented - in fact, don't you find yourself just REALLY wanting to raise your hand when you are with a group of kids and the presenter is asking a question and you know the answer? Oh. It's just me? Well, I find myself nodding smugly and in my mind, my head is bobbing and I'm thinking, Oh yeah, Oh yeah, I know the answer to that. I am SO SMART. Of course, this is in comparison to a bunch of second graders, but still. And my point is that I was doing the nodding, head bobbing, I'm so smart activity when he asked why raccoons dip their food in the water.

And I was totally wrong. But none of the kids knew either. And they didn't know that a skunk stamps his feet to let you know he is going to spray and I knew that. Nanny, nanny, boo boo. Of course, this is the very same class where I heard this comment as they were going out the door.

I used to have the blue Power Ranger. But now I just have his head.

This opens up a whole realm of possibilities. A whole gamut of questions. But I just let it go. They were heading out the door and I knew if I asked a question, it would involve a detailed story. So I let it go. But now I don't feel so smug and superior. If I didn't know that raccoons don't have salivary glands...what else have I been taking for granted all these years? It just boggles the mind.

I'm SO ANNOYED

Yeah. I'm annoyed today. Everything is annoying me. Do you have days like that? Sure you do. A little empathy here. Thanks. And a hug. Thanks. You are such a good friend.

I need a BB gun. Or maybe a shotgun. I need to kill a bird. There is a bird. A bird from hell. Sent straight from hell to drive me crazy. He perches in the tree right outside my window and chirps. Starting at about 4:00 a.m. It sounds like he is standing on my pillow on his little, stick-like yellow legs, leaning forward and shrieking right in my ear. Literally. He sounds that close. I want to KILL him. OK, get a grip. He's a beautiful songbird, flitting through the air with his lovely wings...nope. I still want to kill him. Blow his freakishly loud little head off. I'm not really going to do it. I do love animals. I wouldn't really kill him. Besides, I don't have a gun.

Then, after staggering out of bed incredibly early because of the bird from hell, I get to school and get ready to show a Power Point presentation to the entire school with inspirational messages from the mayor, etc. and realize. I created it on a computer with a newer version of Power Point and the other computer can't open it from the network because it was created with a newer version of Power Point and the entire school will be ready to watch in, like, 10 minutes and I'm running across the hall from one room to the other trying to get the old Power Point to open the new Power Point presentation because it has .wav files and pictures and I can't possibly duplicate it in, like, 8 minutes when the entire school will be watching and then, once I am sweating down the sides of my new summer top, I realize I can save it as a Power Point presentation instead of a Power Point show and the old program will recognize it so I do that and run across the hall and open it and she makes the announcement to watch and I show it. And then I have a stroke. OK. Not really.

And then it's afternoon and I have a fifth grade class that has been playing outside on this warm spring day, running and playing and dodging and jumping and laughing...and sweating. There are many unpleasant odors. Shrimp shells left in a trashcan in the hot sun. Fresh cow manure. Dead fish left by the withdrawing tide. But there is no other smell that will make you literally jerk your head back in reflex to get your nostrils as far as possible from the offending smell. As the smell of 25 hot, sweaty, smelly, stinky fifth graders who come straight to the library from recess.

What a glorious day. What a lovely, wonderful, fabulous day. Why do I say that? After all the annoyances of my day?

Because another teacher just told me the ice machine is fixed. And I can have a cold Diet Pepsi over ice. Over ICE. Life is good. I can handle anything. The bird. The computer program. Stinky kids.

I have ice. And life is good.

Make a Difference

Life is so strange, isn't it? It's full of mysteries, happy chances and coincidences. Remember the post I wrote about my neglected little student?

A friend of mine sent this movie to me today. When I commented that it was considerate of her to send that after reading my blog post, she told me she had not read my blog post yet. Mysteries, happy chances and coincidences.

I'll try harder to make a difference today.

Maybe we all can. I hope so.

Benign Neglect

Benign Neglect: A policy or attitude of ignoring a situation instead of assuming responsibility for managing or improving it.

I had a problem with a student this morning. It was not his fault. In fact, he was completely blameless. The class sat down to view a video about using atlases and he sat in the back. He was too old to be sucking his thumb, but it was buried in his mouth anyway. I set my chair in the back beside him, so I could keep an eye on the class and I immediately noticed an odor. I leaned closer to him and realized it was coming from his unwashed little body and hair. I don't think he had been bathed during the entire week we had been off school.

I hesitated. There was no other place for me to sit. I didn't want to make him move. It would seem like a punishment and he had done nothing wrong. So I went and got some of my scented hand sanitizer and drenched my hands. Then, sat there with one hand by my nose and mouth so I could smell that clean smell rather than the overpowering smell of him. And he wouldn't be punished for being an innocent victim.

His hair was ruffled and obviously dirty. His black sweat pants had a small hole. And this big, ten year old kid was busily sucking on his thumb. He was not obviously abused, although that sometimes is not obvious. He was just neglected. Nobody had brushed his hair, cut his nails, bathed him, checked to make sure his clothes had no holes.

We do our best with these kids. We try to help them. I told the Guidance Counselor who sighed sadly and said she was aware. We offer parenting classes, change the kid's clothes when we can, give money to help with overwhelming bills at home. Teachers visit homes and do their best to help those who want and need help.

As the class was leaving, I put my hand on his shoulder and told him what a good job he had done. What a good role model he was for the other students. So quiet and well-behaved. He smiled around his thumb.

But his hair was unwashed. His clothes were torn. He was neglected. What will become of him?

Wolfos and Orange Juice for Breakfast

From my elementary students, who were writing about eating a healthy diet. Seriously.

So watch what you eat because if you eat to much you could end up overweagt and dead.

I thought it would be good to eat a fat juicy stake and take a healthy diet so I ate a banana.

I chose lasania because it has pasta and you need that.

It is important to eat a healthy diet so you can live longer and don't have to be lazy.

And so you can stay healthy and clean and breath good.

They are all in the food pramid.

Because it helps your body move faster.

They all have vidumms and are good for you.

They are a little bit helthy but still good.

I chose bacon, sausage, ham and eggs because it's what I eat for breakfast.

You will be overwate and can't do fun things.

The reason I chos those is because I don't want my family to get sick from helthy food.

Will some things are helthey and some are not. Diet is you need to stop eating fats and start eating helthey.

Anothr reason is without food you wil die.

I woud have had a smoothy because it is made of fruit and pizza because it is made of bread.

Because each of these foods give off minerals you need.

I chose the oatmel for breakfast because it steakes to your ribs.

Because if you are really overwait you can hardly do anything.

Because you need to do sports instead of just watching tv.

In the morning I eat wolfos and orange juice.

I chose the candy bar and the cookies because you need a little snack to make you happy.


Vegetables are a must on a diet. I suggest carrot cake, zucchini bread, and pumpkin pie. ~Jim Davis, "Garfield"