I'd Like to Buy a Vowel

Each quarter we give a "predictor" assessment for the high stakes test which lies ahead. The kids know the routine; there is even a special app on their iPads so that they can access the test that much more conveniently.

As the teacher it is my role to "green light" the test, and in doing so I have a few options. One is to put a download password on the assessment. I have the sense that the creators meant for this feature to prevent students from taking the test outside of class where, presumably, they could get unauthorized assistance.

That concern is not very relevant to me. I've found that 6th graders don't really want to take the test in class, much less anywhere else, nor do they care enough about the results to bother cheating. I personally like the password because it forces everyone to stop and perhaps even listen to me for a moment before they plunge into multiple choice land, and I try to make my passwords somewhat amusing.

A few years ago, a student actually guessed the download key before I could give it, and ever since then it's been my practice to challenge the kids to guess what it might be. Today was no exception, and after a few hollered-out inaccurate predictions, one of the students suggested we play hangman for the answer.

It was brilliant!

Analyzing the word cues and clues and employing other strategies to decipher the password was a perfect warmup for the test. And? Although I can't prove any causal correlation, as a group, they didn't do too bad at all.

Student Concerns

"Does C. have any friends?" the counselor asked at our weekly student concern meeting.

"He and E. are pretty tight," one teacher noted.

"Yeah," the counselor nodded, "but they went to elementary school together, and I'm wondering if either one is branching out."

"They're both kind of quiet," I said. "But how come you only asked about C?"

"Well," she started, "maybe it's just resting sad face--"

"You mean RSF?" someone wise-cracked. "That's a thing?"

"He just seems a little withdrawn," the counselor finished. She shrugged. "I'll probably just put him and E on different teams next year."

"Hey now!" I said. "Why do you have to be so extreme??"

She looked confused. "What do you mean? I just want them to make more friends."

"That is an introvert's nightmare!"

Throwin' Stones

I am a person who likes to go places when I exercise. For hikes, the top of the mountain or some other scenic view is sufficient, and a long bike ride will also do, but if I'm walking, I want it to be to somewhere for something; the farmers market, the grocery store, the post office, a restaurant, you get the picture: I stroll with a purpose.

And in fact, we were walking home from the movies this afternoon when I saw a woman jogging purposefully our way with a library book in hand. Even so, I couldn't help giggle when she passed. "It must be overdue!" I whispered to Heidi.

What I Learned Today

I'm taking a quick graduate class on word study-- 3 credits in 6 Saturday sessions-- and today was the first meeting. A few observations:

For the teacher with the second most years in the field, the ice-breaker was not too onerous.

What size is my vocabulary, anyway?
(According to a couple of online tests, somewhere between 28 and 35 thousand.)

What the hell is an affricate?
(Answer: a phoneme that combines a plosive with an immediately following fricative or spirant sharing the same place of articulation, e.g., ch as in chair and j as in jar.)

The new(ish) thing is to refer to students as "kiddos."

When certain kiddos dominate the group activity, other kiddos check out.

The Offering

"We brought donuts," the parents said as they joined the special education eligibility committee in the conference room. What followed was a tense discussion about psychological and educational testing as well as teacher, parent, counselor, and self-observation rating scales about their 11-year-old son. We struggled to interpret the data as accurately as we could to best support this student: He was definitely in the clinically significant range for ADHD, but not quite on the autism spectrum. He had an outside diagnosis of conduct disorder and oppositional defiant disorder, but did his school behavior rise to the level of an emotional disability? Even though we were all on the same side, the conversation was fraught.

In the end, we settled on the most certain identification knowing that the committee could be reconvened at any time. It was quiet in the room as the legal documents made their way around the conference table where in the center, sat a box of a dozen had-rolled, small batch gourmet donuts sat untouched.

In general? I am not a donut eater; they have a lot of calories, and I'm a calorie counter. But then I looked at the parents. They seemed overwhelmed and drained.

"Let's dig into those donuts!" I suggested.

This They Believe

As we make our way towards the end of the essay unit, my students are writing persuasive pieces on topics of their choice. Want to know what's going on in your local 11 to 12 year-old-brain? Here's a peek:

Dogs are better than cats
Cats are just as good as dogs.
School lunches should be replaced with healthy fast food.
Kids don’t have enough breaks.
The Patriots suck.
Kids should be home-schooled.
Tanning is bad.
Our school should have block scheduling.
Students should not have uniforms.
Schools should not offer fast food options for lunch.
Students should not have any homework.
Students should wear uniforms.
No testing makeup on animals.
Trust your guardian to guide you in the right direction.
Our town needs an Anime store.
School lunches should be better.
Bullying has to stop.
Elementary students should not have iPads.
The U.S. should allow refugees to immigrate here.
School should start later.
Donald Trump is unfit to be president.
Women should be paid equally to men.
School should be more fun.
The U.S. should adopt the metric system.
P.E. performance standards should be the same for boys and girls in middle school.
Factories should convert to renewable power sources.
Hotels are better than Airbnb.
A PC is better than a gaming system.
School’s should have less strict dress codes.
There should be more afterschool activities at our school.
Gym class activities should be free choice.
Vegetables are better than fruit.
Hockey is the best sport.
Candy should be healthier.
Apple products were better before Steve Jobs died.
Kids should be able to listen to music in class.
Kids should be able to vote.
Soccer is the best sport.
Kids should have more breaks during the school day.
People should respect gay people more.
There should be fewer tests in school.
Women’s professional sports should get as much attention as men's.
Fossil fuels should be banned.
Schools should have longer summer vacations.
Schools should have four day weeks.
School should be canceled whenever it snows.
Math is important to learn.
Gaming consoles are better than PCs.
Housing should be more affordable for everyone.
The school lunch period should be longer.

And, finally...

Legos are relevant!

The Magic Chicken

I may have mentioned before that one of the students in my homeroom this year is a guy who is in our school's functional life skills program, which is designed for people who are cognitively or intellectually impaired. He comes every morning with an instructional assistant whose job it is to help keep him on track as he participates in the same activities we all do.

A few days ago, though, I noticed that he did not stand during the Pledge. It was possible (but doubtful) that he didn't realize where we were in our morning routine, but when the assistant prompted him, he refused to stand. He is on the autism spectrum and verbal communication is at a minimum for him, but it is far from impossible to get through to him.

As soon as the minute of silence was over, grabbing my novelty chicken, the one that plays a little song and lays candy eggs, I walked over to the kid right next to him. "Kieran," I said, "did you stand up for the Pledge of Allegiance today?"

Kieran eyed me with some confusion. "Uhhh," he started, "yes?"

"Good job!" I congratulated him. "Thank you for doing what you were supposed to do. Have a candy egg!"

Kieran pushed on the plastic poultry which clucked a merry tune and delivered a chewy sweet tart to him. I moved to the next student. "Edwin? Did you stand for the pledge?"

And so it went. With each student who received candy, my non-stander's eyes grew wider. Finally he could take it no more. He came over to me. "D?" I asked him. "Did you stand for the pledge?"

He was silent, which is not unusual for him.

"Oh, that's right," I said. "You did not follow the directions today." I shook my head sadly and held the chicken. "I hope you will tomorrow!"

His hand flew to his heart and he recited the pledge as fast as he could.

"Great!" I told him. "Do it just like that tomorrow!"

And he did!

Meanwhile, there was another student who has been chronically late to school recently, but he made it to homeroom that day. He watched first with confusion, and then in amazement as I again offered each student the chicken.

"When did this happen?" he asked. "When did we start getting candy for standing up during The Pledge of Allegiance?"

"I know, right?" I told him. "You should totally make it here on time!"

And he has!