Ukes for Sale Chapter 1

"Will you order me a ukulele, and then I'll pay you back?" asked a student last week. It was after school, and I was practicing the strum pattern for All My Loving. 

"Nope," I answered without looking up.

She let out an exasperated sigh. "Why not?"

"But if you give me the money and a note from your dad," I continued,  "then sure."

"I saw one I like for twenty dollars," she told me. "You can order it, then bring it in, then give it to me with 2 pieces of chocolate."

"Why would I do that?" I asked.

"You're selling used ukuleles!" she said. "You can't expect to get full price!"

Victim of a Victimless Crime

I did a little last minute prize shopping at the dollar store last evening, and although my students enjoyed the rewards of their poetic labors, I suffered a bit from unexpected negative consequences.

"Are you expecting a call from the credit union?" the secretary asked when I answered the phone this afternoon.

"No," I answered, "but I'd like to talk to whoever is calling."

A click and a ring later I was speaking to a representative of the credit fraud agency who had detected a number of suspicious charges on my debit card. All of them were from today when I was verifiably in school, dancing to Celebration by Kool and the Gang, awarding prizes, and playing poetry Kahoots. Even so, a knot twisted in my stomach, and the all the fun of the day drained slowly away as he recited a litany of local grocery stores, gas stations, and banks where my card had been (mostly) declined.

At last he got to the charges I had actually made last evening: Total Wine (don't judge!) and the dollar store. "I made those purchases," I told him, and immediately I remembered that guy who just couldn't pick a line at the dollar store.

I watched him on his phone as he drifted around the checkout area, wondering if he was waiting for someone or what. When it was my turn, I looked at him and said, "Weren't you ahead of me?"

He held up his open soda. "I only have this," he said.

My handbasket was overflowing, and so I gestured for him to go ahead. He made unnecessarily awkward conversation as he dug through his pockets for exact change. "Have a nice evening," he said, stepping aside, but not actually leaving the store.

At this point, I noticed that I felt uncomfortable about him, but I figured it was my own dollar store bias, and I concerned myself with my own transaction.

Was that guy an RFID skimmer?

Who knows? Someone got my debit card info today, and more than anything, I'm grateful that the card company caught it so quickly and that my bank will cover the charges that went through.

Poetry by the Numbers

As April draws to a close, I spent some time this afternoon crunching some numbers on the Poetry Challenge.

Here's a bit of the data:

130 students wrote 1223 poems!

41 wrote 20+ times and won a spin of the prize wheel;
21 others wrote the required 10 poems or more;
67 wrote at least one poem,
and 11 did not participate.

Overall? I'd say the month was a qualified success, and there was some amazing writing as always. The results are pretty similar to last year's group, which is pretty remarkable considering that then I had 80 writers to oversee and now it's sooooooooo many more.

One big difference is that last year, there was only a single student who never shared a single poem, and this year there were eleven.

The voices who choose not to be heard are always the ones I miss most.

Golf Clap

I ran into four of my male colleagues congratulating themselves on their performance in a student-staff football game today.

"I'm guessing you guys won?" I said.

"Sometimes you have to take the 8th graders down a peg!" one of them explained.

The others laughed.

Do you? I thought. Do you?

Would the math teacher show a student how much quicker he could solve a problem?

Would the social studies teacher feel the need to demonstrate his superior knowledge of history?

Would the IB coordinator want the students to focus on just how little they understand compared to him?

Would the assistant principal want students to exclude younger kids because they don't add anything to the group?

Since they are all very good educators, I'm guessing the answer is No.

Then why is it such a victory for a group of men to beat 13 and 14 year old boys on a football field?

Walking the Cats

When the rain cleared at about 11 this morning, we opened the windows and doors to let the late April breeze air out the house. One of our cats, Tibby, was already in the kitty stroller that I got for my birthday. Both she and Milo love to hang out in it, and so most of the time it sits in the dining room like a cat hideout on wheels.

"We should take them for a stroll!" Heidi suggested, and I knew she was right.

So I shook off the last of the gray morning and headed out into the spring sunshine to walk not just the dog, but the cats, too.

Preventative Measures

I was disappointed when I tried to get advance tickets to the last Avengers movie. Three weeks out, there were already no decent seats in any theaters at a good time for the entire opening weekend. After a little consideration, I resigned myself to seeing it the following weekend.

Well, I thought I had made peace with the situation until the press machine shifted into high gear earlier this week. After reading and hearing all about the movie, I began to regret having to wait. In desperation, I searched again for tickets, and this time miraculously hit on an empty theater at an ideal time. Feeling like I won the lottery, I snagged the third row center seats for a Saturday afternoon screening and instantly began counting the days.

For the first summer blockbuster of the year, showtimes began Thursday evening ahead of the formal Friday opening, and some of my students were there. Once the movie screened, the closely-guarded plot twists were available to anyone who wished to spoil the story, and so going to school on Friday was a perilous experience. More than once I stuffed my fingers in my ears and loudly chanted la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la. I also threatened dire consequences to any blabbermouth who might ruin the movie, and when at last we left the building at 4:30 yesterday, I was confident that my experience would be pristine.

And it was! Although some of the plot points were predictable, I never knew what was going to happen. I spent the full three hours enjoying the experience, which is fortunate, because it would have been impossible to go back to school until I'd seen the movie for myself.

Beggars and Choosers

"Can I have some candy?" a student demanded after school today.

I never comply with such impolite requests, but today with my head pounding courtesy of the Anime Club, I was even more short than usual. "No!" I snapped and returned to my work.

"Why not?" she whined.

I looked up over my glasses at her and took a deep breath. "Because it's rude to ask people for things. You should wait until I offer."

"You never offer!" she scoffed.

"You never offer anything, either," I told her.

"What can I offer?" she asked with some irritation.

"Look around," I shrugged. "Think of ways you could be helpful."

To her credit, she considered my words, and in very short time, the room was more tidy than it had been. The chairs were pushed in, stray papers and books were returned to their designated places. "How do you like it?" she asked, flourishing her arm.

"I like it!" I answered. "Would you care for a piece of candy?"

"Yes!" she replied, and then cut her eyes at me. "But, can I have two?"

"Nope," I answered.

Just then, the bell rang, but the Anime Club members lingered loudly, despite my hearty wishes of Have a good weekend! and See you later!

The student took matters into her own hands. "Anime Club!" she shouted. "Leave! Leave! Leave!"

"Gah! You don't have to be so harsh!" they grumbled as they filed out the door.

"Thank you!" I nodded at the candy kid in appreciation.  "And for that?" I continued, "You can have 2 pieces of candy!"