Been a while, I know… So I’m going all dot dot dot on you. It’s been almost a month–since September 14 to be exact–that the Standing Girl first decided to stand for the whole period. Not all periods. Just mine. And she’s still standing. Just for me. She still won’t say why… She does sit for tests… Finally getting into chapter 7. Chapter 6 was fun as always. I think it’s my fave. It has a lot of humor, probably more than anywhere in the book–Dally’s line, “Forget those blasted kids!” never fails to get a laugh. This year though there was a new comment. “And all the kids’ parents are right there and heard that!” I never really thought of that. And Dally cussing out Pony at the hospital is another surefire laugh-getter. I love rolling around slouched in my rolly chair waving my fist like Dally… In fact this is the chapter where we really start to like Dally. First, he’s funny. (I think he might have more funny lines than the supposed clown Two-Bit.) Second, we see that he cares about Johnny. Miss Susan Eloise is setting us up nicely for chapter nine. I read somewhere that the plot
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Whoa baby, this is fun. The comments area has had a bit of controversy about my thing for reading Outsiders (or anything we read in class) aloud to my seventh graders. We got people saying they don’t like to be read to, we got people saying the book is predictable and Ponyboy annoying, and that as far as I can tell, they find being read aloud to beneath them. OK. It’s only really two people and me. But still, it gives me an opportunity to climb back up on my soapbox. (When will that metaphor go away? Answer: When people like me stop using it because we’re tired of explaining it to the young ‘uns.) I guess it’s all in the delivery. I Googled “reading aloud research middle school” just now. (Here’s another one of my Asides: I swear I invented that word. Google as verb that is. I have proof…well, sort of: Hi Mr. Coward! I was in your 7th grade English class around the year 2000 or 2001 and now I’m about to graduate college. My little sister is now a student at Laguna and I told her that you were a great teacher and that you showed
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So far this year has been the year of weird schedules. Late start schedule for “faculty collaboration.” That’s on Mondays. Two extended second period schedules for tours of the school and to drill the school handbook. (Luckily, with a second period prep, I was able to avoid the ugliness.) Extended Homie Base Schedule for the fire and lockdown drill. Last week it was 45 (instead of 35) minute lunch schedule all week long after the Monday holiday. This was to reward them for increasing our API by the required amount. (The possibility of which isn’t any better than a crapshoot from year to year. But we can pat ourselves on the back and pretend that our “increased focus” on testing last year was the reason we jumped so much. Actually a crapshoot is a better bet than our test scores going up every year, especially if you bet Don’t Pass.) I’m thinking test scores went up either because we taught them such mad erasing skills or because we walked around and hounded them so much to try their best. Also the incoming seventh graders played no part in the test score increase, but they’re not complaining about the extra ten minutes. Anyway,
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The heatwave finally broke, and we finally reached Outsiders chapter 4. Pretty much every year about the third week of September or so, we get a heatwave around these parts. This year was no different. Well maybe a little. For one, the heat was almost a week later than usual. Secondly, it was the hottest stretch in a loooong time. 107. 111. 110. 107. Something like that; I lost track. I LOVE hot weather, but this was giving Vegas in July a run for its money. And we average 68-75 pretty much year round. Even in winter. The kids were dying. And those that weren’t dying were working the dress code. Hard. Anyway, I’ve been illing a bit for the last couple days, and we had an assembly during the last period of the day, which happens to be my prep. So I pawned my slaves off to other teachers, and went home early to take a nap. I am a big fan of naps. The kids always think I’m joking when I say that when they’re finished with the Friday test, they can, “doodle, Trackword, read, or put your head down on your desk and go nigh nigh.” “Really? We can sleep?” “If
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As you may or may not have noticed, I actually have a streak going. After taking most of July and August off, it’s been six days in a row now! My longest run in 2+ years of doing this. So even though it’s getting late, I think I can squeeze in a rerun (from the very early days of this blog, back in 2008), and make it seven straight. We started The Outsiders today. This is always my favorite time of the year. Baiting the hook, setting the hook, landing the fish. (It’s a metaphor for getting kids to like reading.) And I’d like make my regular plea to teachers everywhere to read aloud to your students. So let’s travel back to fall of ’08… (So I can keep the streak alive and still get to bed at a fairly decent hour.) Read The Outsiders Aloud! I have been teaching The Outsiders ever since I started teaching junior high. The only “required” novel when I got to my school in 1993 was Tom Sawyer. The “approved” novels were shtuff like A Day no Pigs Would Die and Where the Red Fern Grows. Ummm, no offense, but I couldn’t cope. (Actually, I kinda liked
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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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