Optional in-service Monday. Optional, but @ $210 for the day and free lunch, I figure I can cope with the getting up early. Also I think I’ll have at least a couple of hours to actually work, whereas if I’m at home purportedly working, it’s oh so easy to find a million distractions. At least this way I’m getting paid to avoid working. Actual work day Tuesday. I don’t THINK there are any “meetings” scheduled for Tuesday. I think it’s just doughnuts in the lounge in the am, with PTA provided lunch at noon, and home in time to nap and skate by 3:45. Oh, and I also have to unpack all my shtuff and hook everything up and make seating charts since our genius gradebook software STILL doesn’t do something as simple as a seating chart. I also have to get all those kids into the clicker software AND the STAR reading testing software. (Wait I have a servant for that sort of shtuff. Phew, at least HE can type if the software import doesn’t work.) And there’s always the whatnot; you know, lesson plans and such, although after all these years, I’m in trouble if I can’t do
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(I’m referring to teaching, of course, although the same is true for living through it, if only because it’s half as long. And I get to still say junior high instead of middle school because ours is still only a two year school.) I ended my previous post by saying that one of the biggest eye-openers of my student teaching experiences way back in the day was that I decided that I liked teaching junior high better. I know that high school teachers (do any of your kind stop in here?) will scoff, and non teachers might not see that they are two different species, but I like the junior high animal better. Obviously, in public school, the range of diversity is even greater than that of dogs. (Aside: I read somewhere that there is more variation in the size, shape, and abilities of dogs than in any other species. Update: I guess it only takes the flipping of a few genes to cause such variations in dogs, which is why it has been so easy for humans to breed so many sizes and shapes is such a relatively short time.) Anyway, with so many variations in (and intermingling of ) the
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Before I started student teaching, I thought I wanted to be a high school English teacher. I thought anything younger than ninth grade was of a species that I didn’t want to deal with. I wanted to read stories in class like “The Nose” by Nikolai Gogol, and talk of doppelgangers and satire and samovars. Dead Poets Society hadn’t yet come out (still a year or so away), but I guess I kind of pictured that sort of thing. Although I hate that movie, now that I think about it. I thought that junior high–this was still at the beginnings of the “middle school” movement–was too close to elementary school, and I wouldn’t like reading the books, and I’d have to babysit too much, and blah, blah, blah. Student teaching is an eye-opener for most people. It’s easy for me to say this now, because I’m finished, but I think that a much larger percentage of teacher education should happen in the classroom. Much. Larger. Those places where the kids go to school at the teacher college should be copied everywhere. (More on this in a future post.) Most education undergrads have no idea what they’re getting themselves into. My biggest surprises: The
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Mental Floss Question from last week: The Pope has one but doesn’t use it. Your dad has one, and your mom uses it. Nuns do not need one. Arnold Schwarzenegger has a big one, and Michael J. Fox’s is quite small. What is it? (An oldie, but a goody. Answer at the end.) As you may or may not have noticed, I haven’t been as regular lately. (Get your minds out of the gutter! I’m talking about posting here.) Here’s what I’ve been doing instead: 1. Fighting with again. This time it’s about the new spam filter for our e-mail system. In short: it sucks. It lets more spam through and blocks a lot of addresses that used to go through. Including my wife’s. Which is hosted on my domain. Hmmm. Coincidence? Maaaaaybe. Fixable? Easily. Fixed yet? Of course not. I finally realized why I have so much trouble with . is just like Sarah Palin. Pass the buck, blame the lamestream teacher, spout meaningless catchphrases (“have you rebooted?”), talk in that “lilt,” (“can’t she get a G-mail account just for this?”), smile a lot, and not really do anything but toe
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The other day I was bragging on the heartwarming comment a former student posted on my guestbook. Well, sometimes you don’t throw the life preserver quite far enough. After my skate today, I was stopping in at my local emporium for some liquid refreshment, and I had to maneuver around a rather unsavory (at first glance) pair, discussing their possible 40 ounce beverage choices. I worked in a beverage establishment like this for many years, so I am familiar with these types of conversations. They revolve around the central question of finding the most bang for the buck, and do we have enough bucks for the bang desired. But one of this pair obviously had more taste than the usual clientele in this market. “I ain’t drinking that $#*%.” At this point in the conversation, I skate past. “Look out. Sorry. Whoa. Wait! Hey Mr. Coward!” This is from the one who ain’t drinking that $#*%. D’oh. Yes. I now do recognize her, though it’s been about 10+ years. She nudges her sidekick. “This guy was my seventh grade English teacher.” To me: “How are you doing? You’re still skating? That’s so great!” And now she’s stooping over checking out
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(Friday Flashback – Last Year) “Mrs. G” has been teaching in our district for over 40 years. She’s been at our school since it opened in 1980. She’s taught English, art, social studies, music, and much more. She is literally an immovable object, and doesn’t need to rise from her chair to strike fear (well, not exactly fear any more, but…) into 8th graders’ hearts. She doesn’t care what people (parents, admins, other teachers) think of her, and speaks her mind whether it’s “appropriate” or not. She currently teaches 8th grade US history, and has been going toe to toe with a particularly pesky student I had last year. Now, this “Steve” sends me e-mails about how the posts he’s reading in the discussion forums on our Moodle don’t have enough thought behind them, and he has a real brain. But he’s a loud-mouthed pain in the rear, whose parents it seems, are wrapped around his finger. I was probably the only teacher he got along with…until Mrs. G. He’s still a pain, and though, like me she recognizes and likes the Steve underneath, she’s not afeared of giving what she gets. So… Food is not allowed in our classooms. [...]
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