The last few days of school are always bittersweet. On the one hand, I can hardly keep from shoving them out the door. On the other hand, I lose my eighth graders to high school. They came to me middle school kiddos, and they leave practically grown up. Despite all of the hardships, I'm always proud of them at the end. It's kind of like giving birth ... you forget all the horrible parts and just remember the cute baby at the end. I hope they make something of themselves. I hope they go out into the world and make a difference. I hope they don't live up to their stereotypes. I hope they remember what it feels like to be the punchline in someone's joke and stand up for the little guy. I hope they remember everything I taught them. I hope they get to follow their dreams before they have to be all responsible and adult-like.
But most of all, I hope they find happiness, whatever that may be for them.
Good luck, Class of 2016! I will miss y'all!
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
Sunday, May 6, 2012
What the doodle is this?
Technology. It is amazing. I have software that averages my grades for me (and thank the good Lord for that one because I am completely useless with numbers). There is an online alert system that will automatically email parents when their kids are failing. I have a technology CART with a projector, a CPU, and a document camera along with a Promethean board (it's like a digital dry-erase board and is beyond cool).
With all the technological advances in education, there are times I can't figure something out and my students will show me how it's supposed to go. They are technology freaks! They know how to work it and where to find it. They are reading books in my class on their smart phones and e-readers. The hallways are littered with students who sneak ear buds into their ears and send text messages from bathroom stalls. They love technology. You want to punish a teenager? Take his cell phone; he's got one to take - I promise.
So how do you stump them? What piece of "technology" makes them look at you like, "What the doodle is this thing?" The answer - a telephone.
When a student needs to call home, I hand him my cordless phone. It never fails. He starts dialing the number, and nothing happens, so he tries it again, and still nothing. The third time he pushes the numbers slowly, deliberately, and with a little more force. Then he looks at me like he expects Ashton Kutcher to jump out and yell something about being punk'd. It's hilarious to watch, and probably one of the few times I get the one-up on these technology junkies. I'll then say something like, "It's a cordless phone, not a cell phone."
"I know!" they reply indignantly, and then continue to stare at the phone.
I do eventually reveal the big secret for working these crazy phones, but I can't say I am super quick about it. These are usually the kids who make me want to rip my hair out, so I admit there is a small amount of satisfaction that comes with watching their cocky sureness dissolve into a quizzical look found only on confused puppies. (I can almost see their ears flopping as their heads cock to the side.)
They are a generation that has become so technologically advanced that they cannot even work a cordless land line. It's kind of like I have a classroom full of Einsteins ... in that they cannot do basic things, not that they are super geniuses. Maybe next week I'll bring in a typewriter and ask them to type their final exam essays. Now that would be an interesting day, don't ya think?
"I typed the sentence and it didn't automatically capitalize the first letter!"
"Where is the spell check button? How am I supposed to know how to spell the words without it?"
"This thing isn't making paragraphs for me!"
"How do I make the title in the middle of the page?"
"Wait. I can't delete what I wrote and change it? It's there forever?! I have to be super careful when typing? Noooooooooooo!"
Yep ... an interesting day indeed.
With all the technological advances in education, there are times I can't figure something out and my students will show me how it's supposed to go. They are technology freaks! They know how to work it and where to find it. They are reading books in my class on their smart phones and e-readers. The hallways are littered with students who sneak ear buds into their ears and send text messages from bathroom stalls. They love technology. You want to punish a teenager? Take his cell phone; he's got one to take - I promise.
So how do you stump them? What piece of "technology" makes them look at you like, "What the doodle is this thing?" The answer - a telephone.
When a student needs to call home, I hand him my cordless phone. It never fails. He starts dialing the number, and nothing happens, so he tries it again, and still nothing. The third time he pushes the numbers slowly, deliberately, and with a little more force. Then he looks at me like he expects Ashton Kutcher to jump out and yell something about being punk'd. It's hilarious to watch, and probably one of the few times I get the one-up on these technology junkies. I'll then say something like, "It's a cordless phone, not a cell phone."
"I know!" they reply indignantly, and then continue to stare at the phone.
I do eventually reveal the big secret for working these crazy phones, but I can't say I am super quick about it. These are usually the kids who make me want to rip my hair out, so I admit there is a small amount of satisfaction that comes with watching their cocky sureness dissolve into a quizzical look found only on confused puppies. (I can almost see their ears flopping as their heads cock to the side.)
They are a generation that has become so technologically advanced that they cannot even work a cordless land line. It's kind of like I have a classroom full of Einsteins ... in that they cannot do basic things, not that they are super geniuses. Maybe next week I'll bring in a typewriter and ask them to type their final exam essays. Now that would be an interesting day, don't ya think?
"I typed the sentence and it didn't automatically capitalize the first letter!"
"Where is the spell check button? How am I supposed to know how to spell the words without it?"
"This thing isn't making paragraphs for me!"
"How do I make the title in the middle of the page?"
"Wait. I can't delete what I wrote and change it? It's there forever?! I have to be super careful when typing? Noooooooooooo!"
Yep ... an interesting day indeed.
Thursday, May 3, 2012
What I Did
I've been thinking back on my year. It has been a whirlwind of Crazy! New curriculum, new schedule, four classes of seventh graders instead of my normal schedule of eighth graders ... plus I have my own family and the two crazy children who live in my house ... it's a lot. There are many days I can barely drag out of bed, many days I feel guilty for not being a stay-at-home mom, many days when I'm counting down the days to the break. Despite all of that, though, I am one of the lucky ones who loves my job.
I get to watch an entire group of kids mature, grow, and change over the 36 weeks they are in my class. How cool is that? They come so young and weird but leave just a little more mature ... especially my eighth graders. They do a LOT of growing up during that year before high school. Maybe it's being the oldest class, maybe it's the very real light at the end of the middle school tunnel; maybe it's just turning 14 (or ... ahem ... 15). Whatever it is, I don't care. It's neat to watch and a real blessing for their parents.
Everyday I ask 121 students to think. Not to sit in front of a TV. Not to play video games. Not to text with their friends. I get to ask them to really, truly think. I get to frustrate them and irritate them and ask them to do things that would infuriate any adult ... and I get paid to do it. In fact I am encouraged to do it and provided with resources to make sure each day is extra mind-boggling. So. Awesome. If anyone else hounded kids as much as I am encouraged to do everyday they'd be hit with a harassment charge. As a bonus, the next day I get to say something like, "Remember that really hard thing we did yesterday that had you banging your head on the desk? Today we're going to do that again, but now you're going to do it on your own!" Really, it makes me smile because who else gets to do that? Who gets to challenge kids like that. Teachers, that's who. Teachers who give up their Saturdays and weekends to go to performances/games to cheer on kids they didn't even give birth to. Teachers who take care of your kids AND their own kids. Teachers who love what they do, love your kids, and love watching them grow.
And at the end of every year, it's a giant empty nest syndrome. Don't get me wrong; there are some kids I will happily escort out the door on that last day. But most of them make me cry because they move on to high school and get all grown up and I don't even recognize them and they [think] they don't need me anymore. They are brand new people. And I had a hand in that ... even if only for a moment.
I get to watch an entire group of kids mature, grow, and change over the 36 weeks they are in my class. How cool is that? They come so young and weird but leave just a little more mature ... especially my eighth graders. They do a LOT of growing up during that year before high school. Maybe it's being the oldest class, maybe it's the very real light at the end of the middle school tunnel; maybe it's just turning 14 (or ... ahem ... 15). Whatever it is, I don't care. It's neat to watch and a real blessing for their parents.
Everyday I ask 121 students to think. Not to sit in front of a TV. Not to play video games. Not to text with their friends. I get to ask them to really, truly think. I get to frustrate them and irritate them and ask them to do things that would infuriate any adult ... and I get paid to do it. In fact I am encouraged to do it and provided with resources to make sure each day is extra mind-boggling. So. Awesome. If anyone else hounded kids as much as I am encouraged to do everyday they'd be hit with a harassment charge. As a bonus, the next day I get to say something like, "Remember that really hard thing we did yesterday that had you banging your head on the desk? Today we're going to do that again, but now you're going to do it on your own!" Really, it makes me smile because who else gets to do that? Who gets to challenge kids like that. Teachers, that's who. Teachers who give up their Saturdays and weekends to go to performances/games to cheer on kids they didn't even give birth to. Teachers who take care of your kids AND their own kids. Teachers who love what they do, love your kids, and love watching them grow.
And at the end of every year, it's a giant empty nest syndrome. Don't get me wrong; there are some kids I will happily escort out the door on that last day. But most of them make me cry because they move on to high school and get all grown up and I don't even recognize them and they [think] they don't need me anymore. They are brand new people. And I had a hand in that ... even if only for a moment.
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