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Anna
~ I get my best ideas while in transit
~ Subject covered here: extreme navel-gazing
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24 February 11

Vocab Word: attribute

meaningfulsentences:

My friend has great attributes; for example, he he can fit his whole hand in his mouth, and he is nice.

I am pretty sure you should follow this blog, regardless of whether or not you teach, like kids, or enjoy reading vocabulary homework.  

Reblogged: meaningfulsentences

9 December 10

Tales From School, #27: Rites of Passage

  • [SCENE: The school's internship coordinator has taken five young men into the hallway to teach them how to put on a tie for their impending interviews.]
  • Student: So what you're saying is this will be a lot easier if I don't do it over my hoodie?
  • Teacher: Um, yeah, pretty much.
30 November 10

Tales From School, #26: Thank Goodness a Wide Vocabulary Is Not Also Extinct!

Student:  I need one of those things that sounds like a dinosaur.  

Jillary Clinton:  What things?

Student:  Those jawns that tell you different words for other words.  

13 October 10

Reblogged: 2arrs2ells

12 October 10
2arrs2ells:

From a student’s facebook page.
(Note: friend request NOT accepted)

Oh!  Oh!  But when they graduate, you should absolutely accept those requests on an extremely restrict basis, because their status updates are comedy gold.  I have two of my first group of students blowing up my newsfeed constantly with updates on College Life, and it’s like reliving my freshman year in the best way possible.  

2arrs2ells:

From a student’s facebook page.

(Note: friend request NOT accepted)

Oh!  Oh!  But when they graduate, you should absolutely accept those requests on an extremely restrict basis, because their status updates are comedy gold.  I have two of my first group of students blowing up my newsfeed constantly with updates on College Life, and it’s like reliving my freshman year in the best way possible.  

Reblogged: 2arrs2ells

9 June 10

Tales From School, #25: Graphology

  • Student #1: Ms. _____, do our portfolio products have to be typed up?
  • Me: No, you don't have to type them up. But between you and me? If I were you, I would *strongly* encourage it, as your rough draft was really hard to read.
  • Student #2: Yeah dog, you? You better type that jawn up. Your handwriting be lookin' like rollercoaster drawlings. Lemme see that jawn. [Grabs Student #1's rough draft from desk.] Yeah, you better type that up. My little sister be writin' better than you and she five years old.
20 May 10
25 April 10
The tall, solid-looking senior took up most of the space in my doorway.  ”Miss, is it all right if I do work in here until Ms. C_____ can see me?”
I looked up from inputting grades at my computer.  ”Sure.”  I had several computers lining three walls of my classroom then, and I was used to students asking to use them after school.  I thought R______ was coming in to work on a college applications essay, or a senior project slideshow, but instead he set out his calculator and math textbook and began to work on homework.  
I recognized R______ easily; he was one of very few Latino students at our school, which was predominantly African-American.  My last school, in contrast, had been predominantly Latino, and seeing R______’s face around school seemed oddly familiar in a comforting way, like seeing someone in a T-shirt from your alma mater at the gym or driving behind a car with your home state’s license plate.  I asked him what middle school he had attended before coming to ours.  
"CEP, miss."  I knew about CEP; had never actually met a student who had gone there.  My previous place of employment, a desperately floundering middle school, had never been able to get its act together to compile the paperwork that would transfer a student there.  I knew that out of all the high schools in Philadelphia, theirs was the only one where 100% of the student body scored Below Basic on every single PSSA subject.  I’d seen its students in their distinctive uniform polos at the bus stops, though; their conversations were rife with cruelly and casually tossed-out profanities, as if completely unaware of all of the other much younger children that rode SEPTA with their parents.  Once I saw a bus driver refuse to let a gaggle of them on.  "Y’all are nothing but trouble," he crowed as he drove away from their screaming pack.  Another time some friends and I met a woman who taught there when we were in line at a store in King of Prussia.  "Oh no, no learning goes on there," she laughed callously.  "But we do have security guards stationed in every classroom.  Because they can put their hands on the kids if there’s a situation, and we can’t."
I was shocked that this polite, mild-mannered young man claimed to have matriculated from such a place.  ”What did you do to get in there?”  
"I punched my teacher, miss."
"You punched your teacher?  Where?"
"In the face."
"Why would you do that?"
"He was saying disrespectful stuff to me…I don’t know, I just got mad."  He shrugged.  
I digested this for a moment.  ”Do you regret that now?”
"Oh, of course.  I shouldn’t have done it.  I’m better at making decisions now."
"What school was this at?"
"Oh, I don’t remember.  I went to a bunch of schools.  I don’t remember their names."  He gave an embarrassed smile.  
I told him where I used to teach.  ”Do you know where that is?”
"Yeah, I’ve heard of it.  What did you teach?"
"I taught history there."  
A thoughtful look spread over his face and he tilted his head.  ”I heard someone say once that those who don’t study their history are bound to make the same mistakes.  Do you think that’s true?”
"Of course.  That’s why I enjoyed teaching it.  Do you think it’s true?"
"Yeah, I guess."  He looked down at his math homework.  "I don’t really like history though." 
"That’s fair.  Lots of kids don’t.  You like math?"
"Yeah, it’s my favorite subject.  I want to go into engineering."  
I asked him what school he was planning on attending next year.  
"I haven’t really decided yet.  I’ve been accepted into three and I’m still thinking on two of them."
I smiled.  ”Well, look at you.  Coming from CEP and now you’re going to major in engineering at a college.  Good for you!”
He smiled back.  ”Thanks, miss.”  He did his homework quietly and I resumed entering grades.  
Ms. C_____, the college counselor, appeared at the door.  ”R______, I’m ready to see you now.”
"All right."  He packed up his things and walked out the door.  "Bye, miss."  
"Bye, R______."  
******
Later that year, there was an incident on the third floor between R______ and a few of our teachers.  I did not see it, but this is what I heard.  R______ had been using the copier to make flyers for a party.  Two teachers, male and female, reminded him that the copiers were for faculty use only and asked him to leave.  R______ nodded, but did not comply.  Things became heated the more the teachers insisted upon R______ relinquishing his spot at the copier, and R______ became more and more insubordinate, until finally he angrily shoved the male teacher and one of the assistant principals—who had appeared at the request of the female teacher—aside as he stormed out of the copier room and off the third floor.  
Technically it was assault on not one, but two faculty members, so there was a hurried disciplinary hearing, which then led to an expulsion hearing with the board of directors present.  R______ was recommended for expulsion.  I don’t know if he and his family chose to withdraw from the school or if he allowed himself to be expelled, thus leaving a mark on his permanent record.  He was a month away from graduation.  
I wonder where he is now, and what college he ended up decided upon, and if he even followed through with college at all after all that.  He was a good kid.  

The tall, solid-looking senior took up most of the space in my doorway.  ”Miss, is it all right if I do work in here until Ms. C_____ can see me?”

I looked up from inputting grades at my computer.  ”Sure.”  I had several computers lining three walls of my classroom then, and I was used to students asking to use them after school.  I thought R______ was coming in to work on a college applications essay, or a senior project slideshow, but instead he set out his calculator and math textbook and began to work on homework.  

I recognized R______ easily; he was one of very few Latino students at our school, which was predominantly African-American.  My last school, in contrast, had been predominantly Latino, and seeing R______’s face around school seemed oddly familiar in a comforting way, like seeing someone in a T-shirt from your alma mater at the gym or driving behind a car with your home state’s license plate.  I asked him what middle school he had attended before coming to ours.  

"CEP, miss."  I knew about CEP; had never actually met a student who had gone there.  My previous place of employment, a desperately floundering middle school, had never been able to get its act together to compile the paperwork that would transfer a student there.  I knew that out of all the high schools in Philadelphia, theirs was the only one where 100% of the student body scored Below Basic on every single PSSA subject.  I’d seen its students in their distinctive uniform polos at the bus stops, though; their conversations were rife with cruelly and casually tossed-out profanities, as if completely unaware of all of the other much younger children that rode SEPTA with their parents.  Once I saw a bus driver refuse to let a gaggle of them on.  "Y’all are nothing but trouble," he crowed as he drove away from their screaming pack.  Another time some friends and I met a woman who taught there when we were in line at a store in King of Prussia.  "Oh no, no learning goes on there," she laughed callously.  "But we do have security guards stationed in every classroom.  Because they can put their hands on the kids if there’s a situation, and we can’t."

I was shocked that this polite, mild-mannered young man claimed to have matriculated from such a place.  ”What did you do to get in there?”  

"I punched my teacher, miss."

"You punched your teacher?  Where?"

"In the face."

"Why would you do that?"

"He was saying disrespectful stuff to me…I don’t know, I just got mad."  He shrugged.  

I digested this for a moment.  ”Do you regret that now?”

"Oh, of course.  I shouldn’t have done it.  I’m better at making decisions now."

"What school was this at?"

"Oh, I don’t remember.  I went to a bunch of schools.  I don’t remember their names."  He gave an embarrassed smile.  

I told him where I used to teach.  ”Do you know where that is?”

"Yeah, I’ve heard of it.  What did you teach?"

"I taught history there."  

A thoughtful look spread over his face and he tilted his head.  ”I heard someone say once that those who don’t study their history are bound to make the same mistakes.  Do you think that’s true?”

"Of course.  That’s why I enjoyed teaching it.  Do you think it’s true?"

"Yeah, I guess."  He looked down at his math homework.  "I don’t really like history though." 

"That’s fair.  Lots of kids don’t.  You like math?"

"Yeah, it’s my favorite subject.  I want to go into engineering."  

I asked him what school he was planning on attending next year.  

"I haven’t really decided yet.  I’ve been accepted into three and I’m still thinking on two of them."

I smiled.  ”Well, look at you.  Coming from CEP and now you’re going to major in engineering at a college.  Good for you!”

He smiled back.  ”Thanks, miss.”  He did his homework quietly and I resumed entering grades.  

Ms. C_____, the college counselor, appeared at the door.  ”R______, I’m ready to see you now.”

"All right."  He packed up his things and walked out the door.  "Bye, miss."  

"Bye, R______."  

******

Later that year, there was an incident on the third floor between R______ and a few of our teachers.  I did not see it, but this is what I heard.  R______ had been using the copier to make flyers for a party.  Two teachers, male and female, reminded him that the copiers were for faculty use only and asked him to leave.  R______ nodded, but did not comply.  Things became heated the more the teachers insisted upon R______ relinquishing his spot at the copier, and R______ became more and more insubordinate, until finally he angrily shoved the male teacher and one of the assistant principals—who had appeared at the request of the female teacher—aside as he stormed out of the copier room and off the third floor.  

Technically it was assault on not one, but two faculty members, so there was a hurried disciplinary hearing, which then led to an expulsion hearing with the board of directors present.  R______ was recommended for expulsion.  I don’t know if he and his family chose to withdraw from the school or if he allowed himself to be expelled, thus leaving a mark on his permanent record.  He was a month away from graduation.  

I wonder where he is now, and what college he ended up decided upon, and if he even followed through with college at all after all that.  He was a good kid.  

12 April 10

Tales from School, #20: Judging Books By Their Covers

  • Student: Ms. Clinton, what books is we gonna read next year?
  • Me: Don't you like [A Lesson Before Dying]? Ninth graders read To Kill a Mockingbird. It's kind of similar.
  • Jillary Clinton: Well, they added a new one called Fahrenheit 451. But we start the year with a really awesome book that you're going to love called Of Mice and Men.
  • Student: EW! Haha, psyche naw.
10 April 10

A Brief List of Things That Fascinate 8th Graders

  •  Edgar Allan Poe married his 13 year old cousin
  • Whether or not Anne Frank was going around with too many boys prior to her move into the Annexe
  • When Anne Frank wrote in her diary about her need for a “girl friend” if she meant she was lonely or if she was a lesbian

Kids are freaks.  

Themed by Hunson. Originally by Josh