Authors: John Pearson
For the past two days, I’ve been wearing one of those wrist braces – you know, the kind that makes it look like I’m going on the professional bowling tour. Of course the kids keep asking me, “Mister Woodson, what happened to your hand?”
I tell them, “I’ve just always wanted to be a super hero!”
Now I shall be known as Mister Iron Fist. Well, I guess I’m really more like Mister Rigid Plastic and Polymer Blend (with Delicate Weave!) Fist. To everyone except Shelly, that is, who still insists on calling me “Miss.”
While ruling the class with my cyborg fist, I’ve been attempting to teach elapsed temperature problems. That’s right, ELAPSED temperature problems. When I was in school, I’m pretty sure we never did anything like this, certainly not in the third grade. In fact, I don’t even think I heard the word “elapsed” until after I had my master’s degree in engineering! But anyway, it’s on the curriculum, so it must be taught. The problems are all of this sort:
“This morning, the temperature outside was 74ºF. By the afternoon, it had risen to 88ºF. What was the change in temperature?”
After seeing this on the test my very first year and realizing what difficulty my kids were having with it, I started practicing the skill with subsequent classes much earlier in the year. Most of the kids this year have gotten pretty good at it, but a few of them always want to add the numbers, regardless of how high they are or what they mean.
Yes, Unthinking One, the temperature went up 162 degrees today! Let’s not stop to consider whether or not that makes any sense, let’s just add numbers, because adding is fun! WHEEEEE!! Who wants sugar??
Whenever I see a kid who has chosen such an answer, I always ask him, “Do you realize how hot that is? If the temperature ever went up that much, we would all die! There would be fires! Earthquakes!! Dogs and cats living together!!! MASS HYSTERIA!!!!”
Sadly, they never seem to take the hint (or recognize the movie quote).
Ironically, Lakeisha – harbinger of the fiery apocalypse – always gets these elapsed temperature problems correct.
I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised that they have such difficulty with this, because their internal body thermostats are quite clearly on the fritz. Every August, when it’s over 100 degrees outside, there are kids running around the playground wearing big bulky sweatshirts. And every winter when it’s freezing, there are kids who come to school in shorts.
I am encouraged, though, that all of the kids DO understand another concept we’ve been discussing – probability. At the end of the day, as I was getting ready to draw some tickets for the prize basket, I thought I’d test the kids’ understanding. At the third grade level, probability is not daunting at all. It boils down to one of four options. Something is either most likely, least likely, equally likely, or impossible. If there are 3 red blocks, 3 green blocks, 1 blue block, and 6 yellow blocks in a box, then yellow is most likely to be picked, blue is least likely, red and green are equally likely, and mauve with polka-dots is impossible.
You know I give out blue tickets to the kids for good behavior and participation. They then put their names on the tickets, and I draw three tickets on Friday for prizes. As I stirred the tickets around in the bowl today and all eyes were upon me, I asked, “Who would be IMPOSSIBLE for me to pick right now?”
I was expecting answers like, “Mrs. Bird!” or, “President Obama!” or even, “Fred Bommerson!”
Instead, nearly every single kid shouted, “JOAQIM!!”
I was momentarily taken aback, but as I glanced at Joaqim, slouched in his chair, he shrugged sheepishly and said, “Yeah, I don’t have any tickets in there.”
You know what this means? They get it!! They all totally understand probability – or at least what the term “impossible” means! Even perennial underperformer Joaqim, who is hard pressed to understand how a crayon works!
Success!
Now if I can just get those few kids to realize that it is IMPOSSIBLE for the temperature to rise over 150 degrees in one day. Except of course for that day when lava covers the earth and kills all of the dead people.
Talk to you later,
Sir Tenn
I had another great date with Jill. There is definitely something special there, and it’s not just our shared disdain for standardized tests and empty mechanical pencils. I told her about Joaqim and his improbable breakthrough, and she thought it was funny, though she didn’t start naming kids that are most likely, least likely, and impossible to pass, as you did. And tell Winter to stop saying my class has jumped the shark. This isn’t a TV show, you know!
Here at school, it’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas. Excuse me, I should say it’s beginning to look a lot like Holiday Season. I’ve never particularly been one for euphemisms (despite the cruel joke my parents played on me by giving me the middle name “Euphemism”), and that one especially chaps my hide. Why isn’t February the “Holiday Season?” I mean, you’ve got Valentine’s Day, Presidents’ Day, Groundhog Day, MY birthday... talk about a holiday bonanza!
But no, we can’t officially talk about Christmas in school anymore – Heaven forbid! (Wait, can I say the word “Heaven?”) During the morning announcements today, Mrs. Forest capped things off with, “Remember, kids, there are only four school days left until Chris – Winter Break!”
I could practically hear her larynx split down the middle as it attempted to do a 180 and avoid saying the C-word.
Call me a rebel, but I haven’t corrected any of my kids who have mentioned “Christmas Break” in class. I haven’t refrained from using those words myself. And I sure as heck haven’t removed Bubba, the Christmas-Specific Nutcracker.
This crazy weather we’re having seems to have given some kids a reason to start Christmas vacation early! Last night, when I got home, it was almost 80° outside. Today after school, I threw a couple of snowballs at the buses as they left.
Yes, the temperature dropped that far in less than 24 hours. Please entirely disregard my previous email about elapsed temperature impossibilities. While it didn’t start snowing until around 11 o’clock, it was 34° on my drive in to the school. And for that half an hour that I had to stand out in front of the school on crosswalk duty, it didn’t get any warmer. I had on my ski cap, gloves, and scarf, and I was still miserable. My crosswalk partner, Mr. Vann, was bundled up like a Tusken Raider – with better conversational skills, of course. We didn’t greet nearly as many kids as usual, because a lot of parents must have watched the weather reports, seen what was coming, and kept their children at home.
After the morning announcements had ended and after I had regained feeling in my extremities, Mrs. Forest came on the speaker again and asked for a head count so that the cafeteria would know how many lunches to have ready. I sent a few kids out to collect up numbers from the other third grade teachers, and the results came back looking like Mike Vanderjagt’s field-goal record as a Dallas Cowboy. 10/17, 14/17, 16/21, etc.
I had just 3 kids missing out of 18, but Mrs. Bird only had 11 out of her 17 present. So in the afternoon, after we had switched classes – and after two parents had come to pick up their children – I had a ridiculously small class. It was actually quite pleasant.
Lex and Tyler had caused a lot of trouble yesterday for the substitute teacher while I was at a training. So today, I had both of them sitting at their seats repeatedly copying the phrase, “I will not misbehave and act like a fool.”
I can only hope that one day that message will stick!
At 2:00, Cerulean and Felipe went to their resource class, and Ella was picked up by her mother. I started to feel like I was stuck in an Agatha Christie novel – And Then There Were Six.
I’m pretty sure this is the first time in my teaching career that I have had less than ten kids at the end of the day. Even on the last day of school, I’ve never had this few.
It will be very interesting to see how tomorrow goes. The forecast calls for highs in the mid-40s, and as far as I know, there are no plans to close the schools. However, it is supposed to be in the 20s tomorrow MORNING, and seeing as how that is when parents decide whether or not to send their kids out the door, I would not be surprised to have only a handful of kids again. Unfortunately, I can almost guarantee that the misbehaving fools will be first in line at my doorway. In shorts.
Talk to you later,
Shelby Freezing
I had wondered if the attendance there at the plant might be similar to the attendance I was seeing at school. Especially for people like Mary Pickens or Les Johnson. They practically live in Oklahoma! I wouldn’t want their commute on a NORMAL day!
It doesn’t surprise me at all that Larry would take both days off and then call everyone repeatedly to let them know he was industriously working from home.
My numbers yesterday were slightly lower than what I had told you about on Tuesday. I let the kids play math games for most of the day, and it gave me a chance to do a little individual work with a few of the lower kids like Cerulean, who was cheating on the math games anyway.
Today, with the temperatures back up above freezing, my classes were once again at full capacity.
It’s hard to believe, but tomorrow is the last school day of 2009! It’s the last work day of the year for you, too! It should be a super-easy, fun, party day. Well, for me, I mean. EVERY day is like that for YOU, right?
Mrs. Bird and I are planning on having very short class periods and then putting both groups together for the party. I don’t have a whole lot planned academically. The kids need to take their multiplication test – it’s the 5’s, so there SHOULD be no problems – and we have a little bit of science to finish up.
After lunch, we’re going to show Toy Story 2. If anybody questions the “academic merit” of showing such a film, I will readily expound on how we have been talking about non-renewable resources, such as oil, which is used to make plastic, which we are observing in the forms of Woody and Buzz.
Like I said, tomorrow should be a fun day. Today, on the other hand, was a long day, complete with a cafeteria malfunction that brought about sack lunches and necessitated that teachers eat with their kids. I found myself wedged in between Gwenn and Ava, being bombarded with questions like, “Are you Team Edward or Team Jacob?”
I thought my answer – Team Spiderman – should have been fairly obvious.
Near the end of the lunch period, Miles said he didn’t like chocolate pudding and offered me his. I graciously accepted. Then Priya offered me hers. Then Smoker Anna. Before I knew it, I had a pudding pyramid in front of me.
I left the cafeteria with a sack containing fifteen cups of chocolate pudding. So you’re probably thinking, “Man, I know what HE’LL be doing over Christmas break!”
Today also presented me with several of the most interesting interactions with parents I’ve ever had, outside of Conference Night. Jacob Marley warned Scrooge that he would be visited by three ghosts. Nobody informed ME that I would make contact with three parents before this day was through.
The first came in the form of an email during my planning period. When we met with Victor’s mom one day after school last month, she gave us her email address and asked us to use it if Victor was not doing his homework or took any more trips to the planet Zorlon. I’ve emailed her several times since then, though it hasn’t seemed to have had a whole lot of impact on his work ethic.
Today, I received an email from Victor’s mother with the subject line “FWD: Ninja Kitties.” I had been cc’ed, along with twelve other people, and the only thing the email contained was a movie file.
Granted, the video clip WAS hilarious. I mean, who wouldn’t enjoy seeing a cat leap out of nowhere and attach itself to some dudetsel"s crotch? But what I don’t get is what on earth would possess this lady to think that I want to be part of her email forwarding group?? Am I now going to start receiving jokes of the day, top ten lists, and chain messages from Bill Gates? Is she going to friend request me on Facebook?
The second parent contact came after school. I had completely forgotten about the weird thumping sound that my car started to make as I pulled into the parking lot this morning. At the time, I had pulled into the nearest parking spot and looked under my front tires VERY quickly. It was super cold and still pretty dark. It looked like a little piece of plastic had come loose and was bumping against the tire. I didn’t think about it again all day long.
At around 4:30, when I started to pull out of the parking space, my memory was jolted, and I immediately knew I had a flat tire. What I had failed to notice this morning was a piece of metal wire about two feet long and about a quarter inch in diameter sticking out of my tire.
After the customary amount of cursing had been purged from my system, I broke out the jack and spare tire from my trunk and started to take the lug nuts off.
Not too long after, I heard a voice say, “Do you need some help?”
I looked up to see Vito’s father standing there. You may remember Vito from my class last year. His family lives in the neighborhood, and the parents walk the kids to school every day. They also walk back up to the school every evening to play on the playground. The kids play, not the parents.
I stood up to say hi to Vito’s father, and almost immediately, he practically shoved me out of the way to complete changing the tire. Honestly, I did very little but watch and roll the spare over to him.
Afterwards, when I shook his hand and thanked him profusely, he simply said, “No problem. You taught my son last year.”
Wow, I guess there ARE some tangible rewards to being a teacher after all!
After a not so quick stop at the tire store, I drove to the nearby Super Target. Tomorrow night, Mrs. Caring is having a Holiday – no! Christmas! – party at her house, and I stopped to get some adult beverages and chips.