Why I Teach...

The last day of school in May was a bit emotional for me.  It was the end of my third year teaching, and it was the end of our school's third year of existence.  Thus, my 6th grade babies were graduating and moving on to high school.

I think that no matter the school or the students, a teacher's first class will always be special to him or her, and I am no exception.  I loved those classes.  They challenged me, they taught me, they laughed with me (and at me), and I delighted in them.  I still delight in them.  Nothing makes my day more than when a former student comes down to my room to say hello or to have a chat.  Or when I get a "thinking-of-you" e-mail, out of the blue.  I just love my job so much, and it humbles me whenever a thoughtful student takes time out of his or her day to re-connect with me, even if just for a short time.

At the very end of the school day, one of my favorite students came down for a visit.  We talked for a while, and even this student, who is normally quite vocal, was at a loss for words.  As the final bell dismissed students to go home for the summer, I was handed a note and was instructed not to read it until after its author was far out of my sight.  I obliged.

Normally, I wouldn't post something like this, but I'm going to for two reasons:

1.  I'm so incredibly proud of this young student, not only for how well she articulated her thoughts, but also for how well she has processed her journey.

2.  I know that the tough days I spent with this young student will happen time and time again with other students.  I want this sweet letter to be a constant reminder to me of just how worthwhile it is to never, ever, give up on a child.

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Ms. Diehl.

Over the past three years you have been influential in my life, and for that I want to thank you.  You have taught me more in such a short amount of time than others have my whole life.  You've taught me that I have a voice and it deserves to be heard, but the only way anyone is going to listen is by controlling myself.  You taught me to push myself and to thrive through adversity.  You remind me that I've made progress, no matter how bad of a day I'm having.

I want to thank you for going above and beyond what you needed to in order to make your students succeed.  When I think of a great teacher, I think of someone who not only sufficiently teaches you what is required, but also how to be a good human being and who teaches you to fight for the things that you love.

Therefore, you are the best teacher I've ever had.  When I entered your classroom for he first time, I was only a child, so over the years you have watched me grow literally and metaphorically from a child into an adult, and this change would have never occurred if I hadn't had people like you in my life.

Thank You,
(student)

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This letter left me speechless and in tears on that day, and will probably leave me speechless and in tears every time I read it.  What a blessing it is to be a teacher!

A Word About the Seating Chart

Dear Students,

It's time, once again, to change seats!  I know how much you all look forward to this day, and I know how important, albeit temporary, this arrangement will be for you.  Actually, I know quite a bit about more about making the seating chart than you think I do.

Trust me.  I know who your best friends are, and I know that in a perfect world, you would get to sit next to them every single day in every single class.  And, even though you turn on your powers of persuasion every time, you know that I will simply not allow for that to happen.  It's not that I have anything against you or your best friend.  Really, I like you both.  But, as your teacher, I know better. 

First of all, you and I both know that if you sat next to each other, you would get little else done besides talk or whisper or giggle or pass notes or make paper airplanes.  And, truthfully, I could tolerate all of those things on a good day.  What I can not and will not tolerate, however, is you growing up believing that the only people with whom you're able to work and get along are the people who are just like you.

You see, the real world isn't all that different than your middle school world.  (Actually, it is different.   And it's much better.  But stay with me here.)  Even in the workplace, there are equivalents of the bully, the smelly kid, the teacher's pet, the lazy kid, the kid who dresses weirdly, the outspoken kid, and the overly emotional kid.  They might be your bosses, they might be your co-workers, or they might be your clientele.  And even in the workplace, we are expected to politely tolerate these kinds of people. At work, however, if we choose not to get along with those with whom we work, our consequences are significantly more severe than what yours would be. 

Hear me clearly on this.  If you end up sitting next to one of those kids who struggles in one way or another (with academics, with social skills, with emotions, with behavior, or with hygeine), you should take it as a compliment.  I know, I know... it's hard for you to see it that way.  But truly, I have put you in that spot for a very specific reason.  It is because I think so highly of you that out of all the students in the class, you are the one who is best equipped to manage that less-than-ideal situation.  And, rest assured, we will be changing seats again in a few weeks, at which time I'll be giving you a "break" so to speak.  I promise.

So, next time we change seats and you don't like where you sit, please don't accuse me of not caring about you.  And certainly, don't do anything at all to make your new neighbor feel in any way embarrassed, excluded, or inferior.  Instead, remember this:  I care about you so much that I want to sit you in the best possible spot to help you learn.  I want to do everything I can to set you up for success in a location that will allow you to focus 100 percent on the task-at-hand.  And more than that, I care about your future.  I care so much that I will do everything in my power to give you exposure to as many different kinds of people as possible.  Because in the real world, your ability to empathize, tolerate, communicate, cooperate, collaborate, problem-solve, and manage conflict will likely consume more of your time than anything else.

With that, I hope you'll embrace this seating chart and make the most of the opportunity that you have before you.  Get to know your neighbor, offer your help when you can, take a deep breath when you need to, and ask me for help if you need it.  I believe in you, and I know you can make this work!

All my best,
Ms. Diehl

Back to School

It is absolutely unreal how fast that summer went.  But, I'm glad to be back at school, back in a routine, doing what it is that I love.

And today was a great first day!

Now that it's our third year in our building, I finally feel like I know everyone in it!  I started off my day at breakfast duty, and I loved getting to chat with former students about their summers and getting to introduce myself to new faces.

Then, when the bell rang, it was time to help everyone with their combination locks.  Last year, I think I was 18 minutes late to my first period class due to all of those pesky combination lock issues.  This year, I was only ten minutes late!  And when I walked in, I had thirty students sitting quietly in their seats waiting for me to arrive.

During our (shortened) plan time, the conversation among teachers on my team was very positive, everyone saying that they had a great experience with each of their classes!  Don't get me wrong, we know that there will be challenges, but we have high hopes that this will be great year.

At the end of the day, while on crosswalk duty, I was greeted with many hugs from more non-breakfast-eating students.  It's amazing to see how much they've grown, how their style has changed, how their voices have changed, and to catch up on what's new with them.  I don't know what I'm going to do when this year's 8th graders, who were my first class as a teacher, go off to high school and I no longer have these opportunities to stay in touch with what's going on.

But now, it's off to bed for this tired teacher.  I forget how exhausting the first day of school can be!  I can't wait to jump into the curriculum tomorrow!

A Proper Farewell

Nearly two months ago, I told you about the best teacher I ever had.  Following that post, I had a bit of a panic because my blog was found by someone in my hometown.  He posted it to his Facebook wall and a Facebook group dedicated to Mr. Barnard, and in the next few days alone, nearly 150 new people visited my blog (or so says Google Analytics). Though I never intended for my blog to be widely followed, it seems fitting that it was the post about Mr. Barnard that got me all of the extra attention.

Anyway, tonight was Mr. Barnard's surprise retirement party.  This has been an extremely busy few weeks for me, and I had already made trips home for Easter and Mother's Day.  Going home a third time within a month's time is almost unheard of for me, but there was no way I was going to miss this party.

It was a lovely event hosted at the Country Club by several people from within the community, and it was made possible by generous donations of money, food, and time.

It seems that Mr. Barnard was, in fact, surprised:

There was a short program to kick off the evening.  First, Mr. Barnard opened his mystery gift:

A 55" flat-screen television for his new home.  So much money was donated toward this gift, that they created a fund so that the extra donation money would be given to the high school agriculture education department in his name.

Next, Mr. Barnard was presented with an FFA jacket, signed by everyone who was in attendance that evening.

Finally, he was presented with a scrapbook full of pictures and stories that community members and former students had submitted.

Sarah, one of the key event planners, read a brief summary of Mr. Barnard's career, and also shared with him Legislative Resolution 172, which reads:

ONE HUNDRED SECOND LEGISLATURE
FIRST SESSION
LEGISLATIVE RESOLUTION 172
Introduced by Carlson, 38.

WHEREAS, Dave Barnard, a teacher at Superior High School, is
retiring after a 33-year teaching career; and

WHEREAS, one of Dave Barnard's many achievements during his long and distinguished teaching career is the improvement that he has brought to the Superior FFA Chapter through his leadership and work as an FFA advisor; and

WHEREAS, when Dave Barnard first came to Superior, the Superior FFA Chapter did not receive much recognition. Through Dave Barnard's hard work and dedication, the Superior FFA Chapter is now one of the most recognized chapters in the state after having earned numerous local, state, and even national awards throughout the years; and

WHEREAS, in recognition of his hard work and dedication, Dave Barnard was named the 2011 Nebraska FFA Advisor of the Year during the 83rd Annual Nebraska FFA Convention held in Lincoln, Nebraska.

NOW, THEREFORE, BE IT RESOLVED BY THE MEMBERS OF THE ONE HUNDRED SECOND LEGISLATURE OF NEBRASKA, FIRST SESSION:

1. That the Legislature congratulates Dave Barnard on his retirement and for being named the 2011 Nebraska FFA Advisor of the Year.

2. That a copy of this resolution be sent to Dave Barnard. 

I don't know if our legislature makes a habit of formalizing teacher retirements, but if they don't, I'm glad that they did for Mr. Barnard.

Finally, Mr. Barnard said a few words.  In true, Mr. Barnard fashion, he came up with the perfect words of thanks, gratitude, and reflection.

It was made very clear that the majority of the evening was to be spent sharing stories, conversing, and giving Mr. Barnard a proper farewell.

And that, we did...

Farewell, Mr. Barnard.  You will, indeed, be missed.

"The Test"

Yesterday and today, my students are taking their state reading test.  "The test" is two days worth of reading passages and answering questions to check their understanding of the state standards.

For many, "the test" is something to be feared.  With current legislation, jobs can be lost and schools can be closed if results are consistently not meeting state expectations.

I, however, am not worried.  Together, my students and I have worked diligently this year to make sure we know those state standards forwards and backwards.  Not just because of "the test," but because they are things that the powers-that-be think that 6th graders need to know.  And not once did I utter the phrase, "...because you'll need to know it for the NeSA."  We, as teachers, don't even get to know what the test looks like or what will be on it.  We simply teach the state standards and hope that "the test" is an accurate measure of how well students know them.

The kids, however, know that many things ride on the results.  They know that "the test" can affect whether or not they are in differentiated classes or if they need to be placed into a reading intervention class.  They know that there is pressure for them to make our school look good.  They know their parents want to receive notification that they have "met" or "exceeded" the state expectations.  But it is my hope that they want to do well just for the sake of showing what they know and how much they've learned.

These kids are tested a lot.  And I know how much it frustrates them.  But this test, arguably the most important one they will take this year, has been better than I expected.  I worried about them feeling fatigued by all the testing.  I worried about them staying quiet while we waited for others to finish.  I worried about them rushing to finish.

None of those things have been an issue.  And I couldn't be more proud to be their teacher.

Teacher of the Year

I think you would be hard-pressed to find a teacher who couldn't name the teacher who most influenced them.  For me, this teacher's name is Mr. Barnard.

Mr. Barnard was my agriculture education teacher and FFA sponsor.  Yes, agriculture education was part of the curriculum in my hometown school.  Growing up, I wasn't raised on a farm, and I never intended to pursue a career in farming or agriculture, but I was eager to fill my resume with as many clubs and organizations as possible.  In my school, the FFA (formerly Future Farmers of America, presently the National FFA Organization) was the biggest and most active club in existence.  And Mr. Barnard was the driving force behind its success.  And only for him would I wear this awfully tacky jacket:

During my 8th grade year when Ag. Ed. was a required course, Mr. Barnard convinced me to compete in the district Ag Quiz Bowl competition.  Though I knew nothing at all about scientific names of livestock, gestation periods, ruminant stomachs, or types of grass, Mr. Barnard met with my teammates and I every morning before school to help us memorize all the information we would need to know.  We ended up winning districts that year and advancing to the state tournament.  Who would've thought?

During my freshman year of high school, there were more opportunities to compete.  Mr. Barnard asked for us to sign up for a livestock judging competition.  I was going to pass, as I knew nothing about any type of livestock, but I desperately wanted a free day out of school.  So, I signed up for poultry judging.  Again, with the thorough study materials and coaching from Mr. Barnard, I learned how to judge live birds, how to grade carcasses and broken-out eggs, how to candle eggs, and how to check for molt and measure a vent.  It's now both a blessing and a curse when I try to find the perfect carton of eggs in the store when I go grocery shopping.  I ended up placing first individually and as a team, which qualified us for the state competition.

This was the shock of my life.  And my parents were in even greater disbelief that their anti-farm, anti-small-town daughter who didn't even like to be without shoes and socks had outsmarted actual farm kids in a poultry competition.

At State, we also won first place, which advanced us to nationals.  And so, poultry judging became my livestock event-of-choice.  I went on to place or win at state for the next three years in a row, which earned me a trip to the National Convention in Louisville, Kentucky each year.

I also successfully competed in parliamentary procedure competitions, natural resources speaking, and agriculture sales (I am still quite well-versed in Scott's lawn care products).  With Mr. Barnard's coaching, I found success in all of these competitions.  And that's without even the slightest bit of prior knowledge.  This man works miracles, I tell you.

Besides the FFA contests, he taught me more skills related to agriculture than I thought I cared to know.  I now know about horticulture and floriculture, I know how to electrically wire switches, I can build a machine shed and shingle a roof, make things out of plywood, build a hog trough or a sawhorse, identify and use any and all kinds of tools... heck, I can even weld (arc, mig, and oxy acetylene).  Who knew?

Mr. Barnard is a man of character and a man of God, and he isn't afraid to let you know it.  The man made "shut up" and "suck" bad words, and if you accidentally let one slip (I never did), watching his face turn red was more than enough punishment.  In all interactions with students, adults, and strangers, he epitomized professionalism, and a handshake was standard protocol upon entering his classroom.  He was extremely hard-working - often the first car in the school parking lot in the morning and the last one to leave in the evening.  And summers off?  Forget it.  He was slaving away in a fireworks stand around the time of the Fourth of July to raise money for FFA activities or was planning the annual water balloon wars.

When we, his students, should have been going out of our way to thank him for all he had done for us, he was planning the annual Chicago Leadership Trip for incoming seniors.  All expenses were paid (because of his connections with local businesses), and it was a reward for us - the seniors who had contributed to the organization over the past several years.  During all FFA-related trips, he provided the perfect balance of structure and freedom and the perfect balance of work and play.

The man is amazing.

During the final weeks of my senior year of high school, when it was time for all the end-of-the-year banquets and awards ceremonies, I couldn't wait to be done with high school.  I wasn't at all emotional about leaving my school or leaving my town, but for some reason, I got very emotional at the FFA banquet.  When it was time for me to retire my jacket on the stage in front of my fellow FFA members and their families, I may or may not have shed a few tears.  Saying goodbye to Mr. Barnard was almost more difficult for me than saying goodbye to my classmates.

~~~ 

Tonight, I returned to Pershing Auditorium for the State FFA Convention.  It has been six years since I last put on the national blue jacket with the corn gold emblem, and it was pretty nostalgic to be back in that place.  While there, I had the pleasure of watching Mr. Barnard receive the Adviser of the Year award, and I had the even greater pleasure of talking with Mr. Barnard after he received the award.  I think he was surprised to see me, but I am certain that I wasn't the only former student of his who was in attendance.  It was so good to catch up and wish him well.

I only regret that the 30-second spiel that was read about him didn't do him justice.  They didn't even begin to explain what a significant impact he has had on so many people.

Mr. Barnard is retiring at the end of this year, and I am sad for the young students in my town (or anywhere, for that matter) who won't get to be Mr. Barnard's students.  I can say with great conviction that Mr. Barnard was an integral part in shaping the person who I am today, and is without a doubt one of the main reasons I became a teacher.  If I could be a fraction of the teacher and human being he is, I would have it made.

Congratulations, Mr. Barnard, on an an award that is long overdue and well-deserved.  Thank you for all you have done for me, for our school, and for our community.  I am so proud to have been one of the lucky ones who got to learn from you.  Superior High School won't be the same without you there.

Just What I Needed...

On Wednesday, I became overwhelmed.

Midquarter reports were due, and my stack of papers seemed to be growing exponentially.  I had done less than half of my homework that is due on Saturday, my house was a mess, my laundry was not done, my car was dirty, and my dog had been neglected.

I.  Was.  A.  Mess.

I don't experience stress very often, so when it comes, I don't know how to handle it well.

So, what did I do?

I went to a student's basketball game and then went to Never Say Never 3D:  The Justin Bieber movie.

Normally, a little Bieber will cure my woes, and although the movie was phenomenal, I left still feeling overwhelmed with all in my life that was left undone.  So, I called up my friend Jeremy to see if he would sub for me on Thursday.  Luckily, he was free to do so.

I took the day off to go to school and get caught up on my work.

I showed up at my normal time wearing sweatpants and my favorite comfortable t-shirt.  My plan was to get my room ready for the sub without the kids seeing me, but I didn't escape in enough time.  The kids were way confused to see me in sweats and no make-up.

"Are you sick?" they asked?

"No," I replied, "I just need a 'me' day."

Bless their hearts, they didn't even ask any follow-up questions.

And, oh, man, what a productive day it was!  

• I stayed at school and worked for three hours on grading.
• I went home to let my puppy out and put the dishes away.
• I took a 30-minute nap.
• I took Harper for a walk.
• I went to lunch at Noodles and Company with Ashley.  Hooray for Wisconsin Mac & Cheese!
• I cleaned the kitchen, the living room, the bathroom, and my bedroom.
• I cleaned up all of Harper's toys.  And the potty stains that have ruined my carpet.
• I did laundry.
• I finished my homework for my grad class.
• I took Harper to the vet to get her second round of shots.
• I washed my car.
• I went to dinner at Lazlo's (yum!)
• I spent the evening hanging out with friends.
• I came home and graded some more.

On top of all of that, it reached 71 degrees today, which is almost unheard of in February in these parts.  It.  Was.  Beautiful!

After yesterday, I feel like a whole new person!  I felt really good going to bed feeling like I was a giant step closer to being caught up on life.

Also, my family is coming to visit this weekend!  My brother is coming tonight to spend the night, and he even offered to watch Harper while I'm in class tomorrow.  My parents will be here tomorrow so we can hang out after class is over.

Cleaning, grading, eating out, catching up, and a visit from family... just what I needed!

So True...

My dear friend Amber sent me this e-mail forward today.  Normally, I'm not one to give them a second look, but I trust Amber's judgment.  All my educator friends out there will totally be able to relate to this.  Enjoy!

~~~

After being interviewed by the school administration, the prospective teacher said: 

Let me see if I've got this right.

You want me to go into that room with all those kids, correct their disruptive behavior, observe them for signs of abuse, monitor their dress habits, censor their T-shirt messages, and instill in them a love for learning. 

You want me to check their backpacks for weapons, wage war on drugs and sexually transmitted diseases, and raise their sense of self esteem and personal pride. 

You want me to teach them patriotism and good citizenship, sportsmanship and fair play, and how to register to vote, balance a checkbook, and apply for a job. 

You want me to check their heads for lice, recognize signs of antisocial behavior, and make sure that they all pass the final exams.

You also want me to provide them with an equal education regardless of their handicaps, and communicate regularly with their parents in English, Spanish or any other language, by letter, telephone, newsletter, and report card. 

You want me to do all this with a piece of chalk, a blackboard, a bulletin board, a few books, a big smile, and a starting salary that qualifies me for food stamps. 

You want me to do all this and then you tell me. . . I CAN'T PRAY?

Some Days

Some days, I wonder what it would be like to work 9-5.
Other days, I can't imagine being forced to think after 3:15.

Some days, I wish I had a whole hour for lunch - enough time to go home, let my dog out, and take my time eating my food.
Other days, I realize that if I did have an hour, I would probably waste most of it.

Some days, I wonder what it would be like to leave at the end of the day without piles of work yet to be done.
Other days, I wonder how much mindless television I would watch if I didn't spend my evenings planning lessons and grading papers.

Some days, I get sick of testing, testing, testing.
Other days, I am grateful to teach in a city and in a country that holds teachers and students accountable for learning.

Some days, I wonder what it would be like to earn a salary comparable to a businessperson or other professionals - doctors, lawyers, etc.
Other days, I am grateful for the challenge of being frugal.

Some days, I wish my days were predictable - that I would know exactly what would be expected of me going in to each and every day.
Other days, I can't imagine working a job that didn't challenge me and my thinking.

Some days, I crave a set schedule - 9-5, Monday through Friday, every week of the year.
Other days, I can't imagine life without summers, snow days, and semester breaks.

Some days, I wish I wasn't faced with living examples of the disparities of our society - poverty, homelessness, unemployment, and broken homes and families.
Other days, I am so grateful to be in position to give clothing, food, or supplies to kids who wouldn't otherwise have any.

Some days, I wish I didn't have to deal with sass, disrespect, apathy, the middle school odor, and drama.
Other days, I am so glad to be in a position to see the incredible potential of this generation.

Some days, I am not sure that I have what it takes to be a teacher.
Other days, I am convinced that it is what I was put on this earth to do.

Thank God for those "other" days.

I Should've Paid Attention

Well, I'm three days into the Slim-Fasting (which, during some parts of my day feels like actual fasting), and so far, things are going pretty well.  I realized today, however, that I have a problem stemming from back in middle school.

I was a bad student, you see.  I rocked my reading and writing, and I was always among the first to finish my math, but when it came to health and P.E. classes, I did absolutelynothing.

Bless my P.E. teachers for trying, but I retained absolutelynothing about health and fitness.  A part of our PE curriculum was learning about what a proper workout looks like and how to use the weight equipment.  We had to fill out logs each day telling how many sets and reps we completed or for how many minutes we ran on treadmills or rode the exercise bike.

Would you believe that I forged all of that information?

Well, I did.  And I take full responsibility for what I did (or, rather, for what I did not do).  Although, shame on my teacher for burying his head in a newspaper and putting his feet up on his desk instead of coming around and making sure we were doing our work.

 
I'm pretty sure that if I took that approach to my teaching, I wouldn't last a week.

Anyway, I graduated from high school with little to no knowledge of working out.  I was pretty confident, however, that my lack of knowledge in that area would not stop me from accomplishing my career goals.  And it did not.

Onward to college I went, where I was forced to take Nutrition 100.  I was in class on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, and I had a one-hour lab on Thursdays where I had to meet with my personal trainer.  She did awful things like make me run around the track two times, measure my body's fat content with awful pinchers, and review my nutrition logs and tell me that I was not eating a well-balanced diet.

I.  Simply.  Did.  Not.  Care.

Not even a little bit.

Bless her heart, she took my fitness group to the campus rec center and showed us how to use each and every piece of equipment.  I stood toward the back of the group and instead of paying attention to what she was saying, I stared at all the other gym rats who were there at the time.

Why?  Because I.  Simply.  Did.  Not.  Care.

Not even a little bit.

From all the work she put in during our consultations and tour of the rec center, I remember absolutelynothing.

Just as I did in high school, I forged all of my workout and nutrition logs, and I received a B+ (totally undeserved) and graduated from college with little to no knowledge of health and fitness.  As was the case in high school, I was pretty confident that my lack of knowledge in that area would not stop me from accomplishing my career goals.  And it did not.

Herein lies the problem, however.  Now that I am Slim-Fasting and have made a promise to myself that I would go workout for at least 30 minutes a day, I am absolutely lost.  I worked out yesterday for 45 minutes and I stuck to the treadmill and the bike, two devices that are fairly foolproof.  Today when I went back, I did the same thing.

I have no idea how to use the weight machine contraptions, I don't know what to do with the free weights, and there are other pieces of equipment that are unrecognizable altogether.  So, today I observed.  I watched intently from my treadmill to watch how people were getting these other machines to move.  But I am frightened to try them myself.

When I got home and checked my e-mail, I received a newsletter from an organization for which I volunteer.  It opened with this quotation:

"You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You must do the thing you think you cannot do."

- Eleanor Roosevelt

So, tomorrow, I am going to take this advice.  I will look the exercise machines fear in the face, and I will do the thing I think I cannot do.

Probably.

Wish me luck!

Friday Randomness

1.  I didn't technically have to teach anything today, which was a great way to spend a Friday.  My media specialist taught the writing lesson, and during reading time, our counselor and special education teacher provided students with a simulation of what life is like for students with autism.  Both lessons were phenomenal.

2.  Today was the first day of the week that I didn't take a nap.  The first full week after Winter Break is always really hard on teachers. 

3.  The first week back from Winter Break is hard on students, too.  Which is probably why I had to write five referrals today.

4.  It started snowing for a while today, and it is expected to snow a bunch more this weekend.  Because I hate grocery shopping when there is snow/ice on the ground, I had to go to Wal-Mart during rush hour, which I normally try to avoid at all costs.

5.  My phone is not smart, but there have been lots of rumors lately that Verizon is picking up the iPhone very soon.  I want one really badly.  And I think I've made the mental commitment to go through with the purchase should one actually come out.

6.  Tonight, Ashley and Jeremy invited me over for omlettes and hash browns.  For dessert, Jeremy made brownies from scratch.

7.  Despite the fact that Jeremy made homemade brownies, Ashley, Kelli, and I decided to go get dessert from Dairy Queen.  Why?  I don't know.

8.  After eating our snacks, we decided to play some Mario Kart on the Wii.  I do not own such a device, and I don't get many opportunities to practice.

For the first two tracks, I didn't make it past the starting line, as I somehow got myself turned around so that I was driving toward myself, necessitating that I move the Wiimote in the opposite direction of the way I actually wanted to go.  My friends eventually helped me figure out my problem, but, needless to say, I spent most of the night in 12th place.

Lesson of the night:  After you have selected your character and kart of choice, do not push the "A" button.  Doing so really messes up your intentions to drive toward the finish line.

9.  The above pictures of Jeremy and Ashley were taken with my new camera.  Can you tell a difference?  So far, I definitely think that 14.2 megapixels is better than 5.  Time will tell.

10.  It is way past my bedtime, but I have an all-day meeting tomorrow for which I am ill-prepared.  Instead of figuring out what I need to do, I have chosen to write this meaningless list.

You're welcome.

Kidney Stones were NOT on my Christmas Wishlist...

I was pretty excited to go to school today.  We had a shortened schedule due to the after-school PLC meeting.  Half of my class period is taught by our media specialist (only for the 13 days of learning the research process), which only left me with 30 minutes of teaching per class.

For those of you who aren't teachers, you should know that any day when you are only responsible for a total of one hour of teaching is a dream of a day!

We have these shortened schedules once a month, on which day our team also has a CHAMPS (Consistently Having Amazing, Mighty-Positive Skills) celebration.  All students and teachers gather in our commons area and teachers present awards to one student per class period.  Awards are given to students who consistently exhibit outstanding behaviors in class, go out of their way to help others, or who show significant improvement.

It was about 9:40AM, and our team was gathered.  My team leader began the ceremony, and I made my way to the "stage."  All of a sudden, I felt a sharp pain in the lower left side of my back.  I keeled over in pain.  I turned to one of my co-workers and said, "I need to go sit down."

My resource teacher followed me into my classroom and suggested I go to the nurse.

I did.  But as soon as I got there, I darted to the bathroom and threw up.

I then went back to the nurse's office to lay down with a heating pad.  Ten minutes later, I threw up again.

I knew exactly what was happening, as this is not the first time I have experienced this.

I called my friend Kelli to see if she could come get me.  She didn't answer, for she was sleeping.  Who can blame her?  She's done with her law school finals, and if I didn't have anything to do for the day, I would still be sleeping at 10:00, too.

So, I called my friend Jeremy who came to get me.  I felt a little bit bad because I walked out of the building during my students' recess time.  They yelled, "Where are you going?" to which I replied, "to the hospital."  I gave no further explanation.  In hindsight, I recognize that I should've let them know that I would be OK.

Oops.

So, soon enough, I was in Emergency Room #6 dressed in a stylish gown, laying in an uncomfortable bed.

They also gave me some cute, new accessories.

I had to give some blood, which is one of my least favorite things to do

And they gave me some magical pills that made all the pain go away.

Later, a C.T. scan revealed that it was, indeed, kidney stones that were the cause of my pain.  Three kidney stones, to be exact.  The first one that will be coming through is 3mm in size.  They only pulverize stones that are bigger than 5mm, so they sent me on my way with some nausea medicine and some hydrocodone (the aforementioned "magic pills").

While awaiting test results, I felt very defeated.  I resented that I had to leave work at a moment's notice (which is not easy to do in my profession), I knew that my worrisome mother would be a nervous wreck (I called my brother and gave him specific directions not to let my mother leave town to come visit me), and I resented that I would be spending much of my Winter Break taking pills that make me nauseous and dizzy while a 3mm rock tears through the lining of my internal organs.

On the other hand, I thought about how very fortunate I am to have health insurance that allows me to go to the emergency room and to afford two prescriptions that would otherwise be very expensive.

Upon my dismissal from the hospital, I called Kelli to come get me to take me back to school to get my car.  By the time I arrived, I still had one hour left before the medicine would wear off (and so that I could safely drive), so I ended up making it to the after-school meeting.

After the meeting, I was greeted with dozens of thank-you cards from students, past and present.  Today, before I left, we had SOAR time, which is a 30-minute block of time where students meet with a teacher to do character-building activities.  Today's activities were writing thank-you notes and new year's resolutions.  Although students were obligated to write the notes, their words did help to cheer me up.  Here are some of my favorites:

Although not perfectly written, this one holds special meaning to me:

"Thank you for making me turn good and help me starting to write good."

And this one might be my favorite.  Simply put, but well-said:

I have the best job in the world.

But now, if you'll excuse me, it's time to go take my magical pills.  Please pray that my stones will not pass while I am at school tomorrow!

Dance Week is Over!

I love, love, love teaching middle school. Really, I do.   But weeks such as this one simply wear me out.

It started out on Tuesday with some Husker student-athletes coming to visit our 7th graders. Our local college team's kicking squad - Alex Henery, Brett Maher, and P.J. Mangieri - came to answer student questions.

The kids loved getting to hear from these special guests!

Less than one hour later, Student Council hosted our first 6th grade dance of the year.  Because of the amount of students who ride buses, we have to have each grade-level dance on a separate day to avoid over-crowding what few buses are available to us.  For most, this would seem like a good idea.  For this Student Council sponsor, it makes for an exhausting week.

I get such a kick out of our precious 6th graders as they anxiously anticipate their very first middle school dance.  They aren't quite sure what to wear or if they need a date or what the cool dance moves are, so they are absolutely worthless in class that day.

You couldn't pay me enough to back to that time in my life.

Only 180 of them came to the dance, which was down from last year's 230.  But I can't imagine what it would have been like with another 50 kids.  Last year, we had to prod our kids to actually dance.  This year, they basically just ran around for an hour.  It was simply crazy.

During a slow song, the floor pretty much cleared except for one of my Language Arts students and his girlfriend.  Really, they are a very sweet couple.  He always saves her a seat at breakfast.  He walks her to class.  And he has no shame in slow-dancing with her, even when it is clearly not the popular thing to be doing.

What I didn't expect, however, was that he would kiss her when the song was over.

I saw it happen.

I looked the other way.

I went home with a headache.

The next morning when I said, "I can't believe you kissed her!" he said, "What?  It wasn't the first time."

Somehow, I was relieved by hearing that.

Wednesday, we hosted our 7th grade dance, which I have affectionately nicknamed, "Blood, Sweat, and Tears."  Only 150 of them came, which was a much more manageable number.  However:

Within the first ten minutes, there were two break-ups, which sent both parties crying in the bathrooms.

I am a lot of things, but I am not a good empathizer in the department of middle school relationships.  I said things like, "I'm sure that's really hard for you," or "He probably doesn't deserve you anyway."  Then, I went home and e-mailed the guidance counselor so she could follow up.

Later in the dance, some kid got whacked in the mouth, necessitating the use of a bloodborne pathogen kit.  They swear it was an accident.  I'm not convinced.

Also, a girl who just got out of surgery and who can only walk with the use of crutches got pushed down to the ground.  They swear it was an accident.  I'm not convinced.

The "sweat" part is pretty self-explanatory and is unavoidable at events such as these.  Yuck.

Today's 8th grade dance was the icing on the cake.  In a good way.

Based on the previous two dances, I had prepared myself for the worst.  These kids are the oldest, rowdiest, and have the "we-rule-the-school" kind of attitudes.  I had a bad attitude all day because I just didn't want to chaperon another dance.

But, they were great.  There were only 90 of them there, and they actually danced.  They were fun, they mingled outside of their everyday social circles, they included everybody, and they responded well when I told them, "No, I will not play that song."

At the end of the dance when I announced that it was time to go, they said, "Thank you."

Blow.  Me.  Down.

Thank-yous?  From eighth graders?  I didn't know they had it in them!

And now, dance week is over!  I've had enough cha-cha-sliding, dougie-ing, whipping my hair back-and-forth, jerking, stanky leging, and pop, lock, and dropping to last me a lifetime.  Or at least until our next round of dances in April.

Because Teachers Make Trips Educational

On Friday morning, we drove to downtown Dallas where we met up with Steph's Uncle Jim.

(By the way, we love Uncle Jim.  He was so generous to us throughout our entire stay).

Uncle Jim led us to the location where President John F. Kennedy was assassinated.  It was here, to be exact:

The first shots were fired from this window:

It is also believed that a fourth shot came from this area, known as the "Grassy Knoll."

All of this is now part of what is called the 6th Floor Museum, a museum dedicated to the life and presidency of J.F.K.

Fun fact:  If you are a teacher, admission to this museum only costs $6.00.   If you are not a teacher, it costs $13.50.

This picture was located in the lobby of the museum:

It was the only picture that we were allowed to take.  The rest of the museum really was excellent, and  I learned a lot that I didn't know.  It was a great audiovisual experience, which I would highly recommend to anyone!

Keeping Up with Text Messaging Lingo

At a district staff development workshop yesterday, we were given a quiz on text messaging lingo to see how many we could make sense of.

At first, I thought it would be no problem.  I do not consider myself to be an old, out-of-touch teacher.  I text, I watch television, and I feel pretty up on current trends in technology.

But I got schooled yesterday.

Here was the quiz:

1)  LOL
2)  OMG
3)  TTYL
4)  POS (NO, this is not what you're thinking)
5) TOS
6) LSHIPMP


I was good with the first three:
1)  LOL = laughing out loud
2)  OMG = oh my goodness (Most people probably mean 'oh, my God,' but I don't very much like that use of the acronym.  Actually, I don't like it at all).
3)  TTYL = talk to ya' later

I thought I knew number 4
4) POS = piece of ****

But I was wrong.

It actually stands for Parent Over Shoulder, which loosely translates to "I'd respond to your message, but I can't right now because whatever I was about to send you is too inappropriate or embarrassing to allow my parent(s) to see.  Hang on, and when said parent(s) leave, I'll send you the message that I originally intended to send you."

So, you can see why the cool kids need these short acronyms.  The above translation would take up way more characters than a standard text message can contain.

Similarly to number four, number five (TOS) stands for Teacher Over Shoulder, which carries with it the same general idea as number four.

I'm guessing that one is more widely used among high school students.  If I was over somebody's shoulder while they were texting, that phone would be mine before their quick little fingers even had time to type TOS (as per our school's "no electronics from bell to bell" policy).

And now for the doozy.

LSHIPMP

None of us in the room had any idea until our instructors told us that the first letter stood for "laughing."

Then, yours truly solved the puzzle.  Just like this lady did after only knowing the letter "L."



(Side note: It is my dream to be a contestant on Wheel of Fortune. I am convinced that I, too, could pull off something like this woman did).

Anyway, back to the task-at-hand:

LSHIPMP

Have you figured it out?

The answer is:
Laughing So Hard I Peed My Pants.

Because apparently Laughing Out Loud just doesn't quite convey the desired amount of emotion.

Don't Get Stuck on an Escalator

Have you seen this video?  If not, watch it.  It'll only take two minutes and three seconds of your time.



This video has turned into one of my most popular classroom catchphrases.  As of late, I've said to a student, "Don't get yourself stuck on an escalator" more times than I can count.

Here are some examples of behaviors that students were exhibiting that caused me to feed them my new favorite line:

1.  A student not doing work because they don't have a pencil.
In my district, we are required to provide all school supplies to all students; so, in my room, I have boxes of pencils for the taking.  They don't even have to ask for one.  The pencils are easily accessible and located in different places throughout the room.  Therefore, when students don't have a pencil, it's because they don't want to get up to get one.

2.  A student not doing work because the pencil they have isn't sharpened.
There are multiple pencil sharpeners in my room.   I'm not even a you-must-raise-your-hand-to-get-out-of-your-seat kind of teacher.  I have always told students that if they need something to just go get it.  The only circumstance that requires permission is leaving the room.  Other than that, they are free to access anything.  Therefore, this situation is also one that occurs simply because a student doesn't want to get up to sharpen it.

3.  A student letting an assignment go missing for multiple weeks because they didn't understand what to do.
I am perfectly willing to admit that part of this could have been my fault.  Perhaps I didn't explain directions well enough.  I am really intentional, however, about asking for questions after I give directions.  Now, maybe the assignment was taken home and then the questions came up.  Fine.  But ask a sibling, ask a parent, call/text/e-mail/Facebook a classmate and ask for help.  Or, bring it back the next day and ask the person who is in charge of grading it.  Don't let it sit idle in a folder for three weeks.

Anyway, I was inspired to write this post because of an incident that happened this weekend in which I ended up saying this phrase out loud to myself.

On Saturday morning, I was enjoying my morning shower when, all of a sudden, the shower head came flying off and landed in the tub before I had even lathered up the shampoo.  I turned off the water and put the shower head back on, but as soon as I turned on the water, the shower head flew off again.  When I put on my glasses to further examine the situation, I realized that the attachment thingy was broken.

I'm fairly sure that "attachment thingy" is not a technical plumbing term, but it's the best that I can do.

Anyway, this is were I got kind of stuck on the escalator.

Here are the solutions that I came up with in order of occurrence:

1.  Forego the shower.  Go to class a little bit dirty and buy a new showerhead later.
2.  Go to Wal-Mart really quickly and take the fastest shower of my life in order to get to class on time.
3.  Wash my hair in the sink and use lots of perfume.
4.  Go to Wal-Mart really quickly and take a normal shower.  Then, call my really awesome professor and explain why I'll be a bit late to class.
5.  Go to a friend's house (who lives on my way to Doane) to shower and get ready.

In this situation, I differed slightly from my students in that I at least attempted to come up with some solutions to my problem.  I weighed pros and cons and was ready to take action.  They, on the other hand, mostly just sit idly.

After quickly brainstorming the aforementioned list, I decided to go with the 6th solution:

Take a bath.

No, my bath tub is not this nice.  But, hey, a girl can dream, right?

I laughed out loud at myself for taking that long to come up with such an obvious solution.  In my defense, however, it's been a long time since I've taken a bath.  I'm thinking middle school was the last time, and that was literally half of my life ago.  That said, there is no good excuse for not coming up with that solution sooner.

Anyway, the crisis was averted, and I made it to class on time.  I even had time to stop at McDonald's for a mocha frappe.

Herding Cats

Have you ever tried to herd a bunch of cats?

I have not.

But, after today's field trip, I feel like the cowboy in the above picture and I would have stories to compare.

Every year, we take our 6th graders to the local art museum.  Actually, they go once per year in 4th, 5th, and 6th grades as part of our district's art curriculum standards.  So, they always whine and moan before we have the chance to tell them that the 6th grade tour is a completely different experience.

In 6th grade, they tour the outdoor sculpture collection, which means that we are not in a contained building.  We roam around on our city's college campus, racing from sculpture to sculpture for a solid 45 minutes.

The docents walk quickly, and in between sculptures, students have approximately six million things that distract them from walking.  For many students, it's their first time on a college campus.  They see skateboarders, bikers, students napping in the grass, young males who they think play for their favorite college football team, young females who are not properly clothed, fashion trends to which they haven't yet been exposed, and people with non-traditional hair colors or styles.  They hear songs coming from the bell tower and they catch a whiff of pizza coming from the Student Union.  It is ten minutes past their normal lunch time, and that pizza smell makes listening about art nearly impossible.

Steph, Mrs. Green (our counselor), Mrs. M (our resource teacher), and I all rode the bus with our first language arts block.  Each of us was responsible for one group of 10-14 kids.  The first tour was pretty typical.  Our docent was very knowledgable, and we got to see most of the student favorites.

First, we went into the museum lobby to see their exhibition in honor of El Dio de los Muertos.  This wasn't part of the sculpture tour (obviously), but our docent thought students might be interested.  We saw things like this:

Lovely, aren't they?

Then, we ventured outside and saw things like this:

(Note:  I'm only uploading pictures in which you can't see the faces of my students.  As it turns out, parents like to maintain the privacy of their children.  And I like my job enough to comply with that preference.)

While we were on this tour, the remaining teachers back at the ranch were loading up a second group of kids.  The only adult on their bus was Mrs. Carnie, our instructional coordinator.  She stayed for the second tour, and Mrs. Green rode the bus back to school with the first group.

For this tour, we had a different docent.

Now, as with most museums (I'm sure) the experience, good or bad, depends on the quality of the docent.  I must say, both of our docents today were very knowledgable about their subject matter.  And both of them did a great job speaking to the students in plain language.

However, Docent #2 choose to take us on the road less traveled.

The demographic of my second group was 9 boys and 4 girls.  So, I'm sure you can imagine what was going through my mind (and theirs) when she took us to our first stop:

My girls were less than amused with "Sandy: in Defined Space..."

They kept a safe distance.

My boys, on the other hand...

took the front-row view.

Then, our docent encouraged them to get closer and walk all the way around it.

I thought they were going to lose it.  But they held it together pretty well.

After this lovely lady, we moved on to this one:

Her first question to them:  "What do you notice about her?"

(Fun fact:  I heard on the radio one morning that in a recent study, it was found that by 6th grade, 100% of 6th graders have learned how to lie).  Their responses to her question would lead me to believe the results of that study:

Student A:  "She has no hair."

Docent:  "What else do you notice?"

Student B:  "She looks kind of like a mermaid."

Student C:  "She has really big thighs."

Student D:  "Her arms are very welcoming."

Student E:  "She has a small waist."


Maybe I'm not giving them enough credit.  But the first thing that I noticed was this woman's extremely large chest.

After the naked ladies, we moved on to the smoker:

It was at this point that I started to imagine the dinner table conversations that would happen tonight.

Parent:  "How was your field trip?"

Student:  "Good."

Parent:  "What did you see?"

Student:  "Naked ladies and a smoking guy."


I'm hoping that the rest of the tour stuck with them more.

At the end of our tour, she asked them what their favorite sculpture was.

None of them responded with the name of one of our first three sculptures.

I would suggest that they will probably soon forget about the sculptures that they saw today, just as they have forgotten about the portraits that they have seen in years past.

But I can't say that.

Because she gave them trading cards of the sculptures we saw.  And in my world, trading cards are only a short step down from Silly Bandz.

All-in-all, it was a good day.  But I'm thankful that we can return to "normal" tomorrow.