Circadian

I have an 18-year-old former student volunteering in my class for the next few week as part of her high school's "senior experience." M. is planning to study education in college, and is both an excellent writer and a really nice kid. In the two days she's been with me so far, she spent day one observing. (Does it bring you right back to 6th grade? I asked her. A little, she confessed, and if I yawn? It's because I was up late last night.)

On day two, I gave her a choice of jumping in and interacting with the kids, or adding some data to a spreadsheet. Still a bit reticent, she chose the record-keeping chore, which was actually extremely helpful to me. When lunchtime rolled around, I stepped out to use the restroom and returned to my room to find her bag on the table, but no sign of the kid. A little while later the construction out the window drew my attention, and when I walked over there I was startled to find M snoozing on the pillows. I let her sleep until the kids barreled back from recess.

Ready for round two? I asked her, and she hopped right up.

Let's Get Together and Feel All Right

They scheduled a single class period before the state tests started today. Take them outside! some suggested, but that plan is not practical if you know how large groups of sixth graders function. Coordinating 350 kids going out, coming in, sweating, getting water, panting, and using the toilet, not to mention the threatening rain, all made that plan rather unworkable.

Still, physical activity was a good idea given the fact that the students were expected to sit quietly for three hours in order to complete a 37 question test. What to do? I ended up playing some music and having the kids in my room pair up to complete quick physical challenges whenever the song was paused. I took requests and participated myself in high-fiving, jogging in place, and dancing.

We were snaking through the room in a spontaneous Reggae-conga line to Bob Marley when a colleague stopped in to pick up some printing. "It almost makes me wish I had to take the test!" she laughed.

We made eye-contact. "Naaaaah!" we said in unison.

Vocabulary Lesson

About a week ago I overheard an unusual conversation between two sixth grade boys. "What are these?" one asked the other, holding up a pair of scissors.

"Shears!" proclaimed the other boy definitively, and they both laughed uproariously.

Such events are hardly uncommon, and I let it pass, but I was curious when I heard another student say, "Shears!" a few days later.

Not curious enough to ask though, until today. "What are these?" the first boy asked brandishing the scissors once again.

"Shears!" I answered.

He paused. "You know about that?"

"No," I shrugged, "I've just heard you say it several times recently. What are you talking about?"

If I expected something naughty, I couldn't have been further from the truth. "We learned about it in Family and Consumer Science," he told me. "These are scissors," he held out a pair with matching thumb and finger hole, "and these are shears!" He showed me a pair with a round thumb hole and a larger opening for more than just one finger.

"Ohhhhh," I said, impressed. "I did not know that."

I turned to the student intern who started today. "See, Maddy? This is what life-long learning looks like!"

Stranger in a Strange Land

As they challenge themselves to write every day, my students reveal all sorts of interesting details about their lives. "I've never been to the movies before," one wrote this morning. "What's it like?"

This particular kid is not underprivileged, not going to the local cineplex seems like more of a parenting choice for her. She has written extensively of her piano lessons and day trips to museums and hands-on educational expos. I'm not sure they watch TV either.

The other students are often shocked by her lack of familiarity with video games, social media, and other pop cultural experiences, and they never hesitate to try and fill in the gaps for her. Like this morning: "Movies are like going to our school theater with a giant smart board in the front," Another student helpfully replied.

"AND you can get popcorn!" I added.

Uncoordinated

"We'll meet you at the new waterfront," we told Josh, but after paying 20 dollars to park, he was no where to be found.

"I'm down by the water," he texted and then sent his location. He was by the water at the other new waterfront a mile and a half away. After some debate, we sent an Uber, because his account was unfunded since he was robbed at knifepoint a couple weeks ago. (Yes. That's another story.)

"I'll put Hank's Oysters as the destination," I told him, looking up at the big sign to my left, "and we'll meet you in front."

"I'm here!" he texted, except he wasn't. I checked the app. He had been dropped off at the restaurant's other location on Capital Hill.

I sent another Uber. 

A Breath of Fresh Air

It's official-- the middle schoolers have

lost.
their.
minds!

It's May; it's Friday; testing has started; there was an assembly after lunch; it's been raining all week, and I cannot count the number of ridiculous redirections I was forced to make today. Even the kids who are usually super-compliant are pushing the limits. For example, I confiscated the iPad of a straight-A student for showing a picture of a yawning bulldog to anyone who would have a look after three explicit warnings.

After lunch she stopped by my room. "I forgot my iPad here," she told me.

"Forgot?" I repeated skeptically. "You didn't actually have your iPad when the bell rang."

"Oh, yes," she said. "About that? I'm sorry."

I accepted her apology and handed her the device.

She looked me in the eye. "It will never happen again," she promised.

And I believed her. As she walked out of the room, it occurred to me how rare a conversation we had just had. Usually kids want to sulk or argue about how whatever they did was fine in the given situation, but she accepted responsibility for a mistake and promised not to repeat it.

Wow!
Middle school
educator
mind
blown!

Come Again Another Day

It started raining Saturday night and it hasn't really stopped since. With wet weather predicted at least through next Wednesday, my tolerance for drizzle and drench is draining. I'm sure there must be a silver lining somewhere, though, if only because there are so many dang clouds. I'll let you know when I spot it.