Authors: John Pearson
I suppose the good news is that whenever I’m ready to get back in the saddle again, I won’t have to waste any hard-earned money on Match.com or eHarmony. Not when I’ve already got at my disposal a dogged little matchmaker AND a couple of experts in the art of writing love notes.
Talk to you later,
The Love Guru
Ha! It sounds like the manager you’ve been dealing with is exactly like Priya’s mother. Why is he refusing to believe that his own engineer had a hand in the latest proposal, and that it wasn’t just you? Did you write, “kiss me! kiss you!” on the proposal?
Also, I’ll see what I can do about getting Katie to find your soul mate. No guarantees, though, and it might cost you a crate of Capri Sun.
If today is any indication, this is going to be a very interesting week. My morning started with a little kid walking up to me and asking, “Is Abraham Lincoln dead?”
I answered, “Yep. And so are George Washington and Thomas Jefferson. Pretty much all of the money guys.”
He then ran back to a slightly larger child and said, “Yeah, he’s dead!”
I would love to have known what the lead-in on that conversation was, but unfortunately, I had to settle for that small piece of the puzzle. In my head, I imagine this is what preceded my involvement:
Big kid: “One of the questions on my test last week asked who wrote the Declaration of Independence.”
Little kid: “That’s easy – Uncle Sam!”
Big kid: “No, I thought it was Bill somebody, but I picked Abraham Lincoln.”
Little kid: “I watched Transformers 2 last night, and Abraham Lincoln was in that!”
Big kid: “No he wasn’t. He died, like 10 years ago. Go ask that big guy.”
Later, I moved from ancient history to current events. During our planning period, Mrs. Bird showed me some of the kids’ recent work. She has been going over different writing styles, and last week was focused on newspaper articles. At the end of the week, she had the kids choose a topic and write a persuasive article along with a title and byline. There was “Give us more recess!” by Tyler, “No more dress code,” by Smoker Anna, and “Free cupcakes every day,” by Cerulean. The best title has to go to Clarisa, though, who had written an article requesting healthier food in the cafeteria. She titled her article “Eat some of this.”
I got to talk to Clarisa later in the day, but it wasn’t about her article. We had just come inside from the playground, and I was standing by the kids who were waiting in line to use the restroom. (Is it just me, or does the afternoon bathroom break seem to be a mystical vortex for funny stories?)
Clarisa and Betsy were both giggling and casting glances in my direction, so I asked what was up. I wondered if they had seen me at the Taco Bell again with someone else.
Betsy whispered something in Clarisa’s ear, then Clarisa giggled again and said, “Jenny likes you.”
Jenny is a little girl in Miss Palmerstein’s class, and she’s a little spitfire. I chose to play obtuse.
“Oh, really?” I replied. “I like her too. She’s a very friendly third grader.”
Betsy shook her head while Clarisa, with a puzzled look on her face, continued, “No, she doesn’t like you as a teacher.”
Barely withholding a grin, I responded, “She doesn’t like me as a teacher? You mean she thinks I’m a bad teacher?”
At that, the girls exchanged looks, then Betsy clicked her tongue and declared, “He doesn’t get it.”
It was all I could do not to burst out laughing. I was already holding back giggles after seeing what was on the wall between the boys’ and girls’ restrooms.
Over the weekend, I had given my kids a chance for extra credit in science class. I asked them to take a piece of paper and make a poster about the importance of conserving our planet’s resources.
My favorite was Lex’s who had drawn some pictures of light bulbs and televisions and written, “Saving electricity is when you turn off everything that takes electricity and if you don’t and go to church for five hours, the next day, you will get electric bill and you have to pay money. If you do turn off the lights and TV, you will not have to pay money.”
Don’t I wish!
But back to what was really making me laugh. Mrs. Bird had apparently gotten her hands on the poster that Shelly had made and decided to put it near the restrooms for all to see.
Shelly took something I had said last week very literally. Her poster had a big green triangle of arrows, like the universal recycling symbol. At the top corner of the triangle was a picture of a smiling child. At one of the bottom corners was a picture of a water fountain, and at the other corner was a picture of a toilet. Underneath all of this was the bold statement, “Mister Woodson told us that the water in the toilet is clean water when you flush the toilet it goes to a machine and it cleans the water so you can drink it.”
The good news is that most of my kids don’t pay any attention to things hanging on the wall, so I probably won’t have to worry about kids actually drinking from the toilet. The bad news is that I might be getting some phone calls from parents regarding my teaching style.
At any rate, I think we can be thankful that Abraham Lincoln is not alive to see any misunderstanding that may arise from this poster. I can’t be so sure about Bill somebody, though.
Later dude,
Mellow Yellow
I’m holding you personally responsible for what I’m calling the Reverse Spam Bomb I received this morning. I’ve dubbed it Reverse Spam because instead of thousands of people getting the exact same email from a single source, I’m the one person who received the exact same email from multiple sources.
I got a one sentence message – “What’s this I hear about you telling kids they can drink from the toilet?” – from Winter, Latya, Larry, Tiffany, and about ten others! Quite the coordinated effort you put into this, and I commend you. I should point out, though, that April Fool’s Day is TOMORROW.
Not that my kids need some arbitrary date to act like fools. I have to wonder if it’s possible to have a full moon in the middle of the afternoon. My kids were absolutely, off-the-wall INSANE today! No, no, I take that back. It actually started yesterday. At least the two third graders who had to go home suspended because they brought toy guns to school weren’t in my class. But I was one of the teachers who had to confront them about it. Then, after school, just as they were about to get on the school buses and go home, two of my kids got into a fistfight.
My day today started with me dealing with these two wannabe pugilists. One of them, to absolutely no one’s surprise, was Marshawn. I don’t think this kid could walk by a cloister of nuns without provoking at least one of them to attack him. The other student, Franco, is certainly not my best behaved, but usually not prone to actual physical violence. However, according to all eyewitness accounts, the two of them were out there punching each other in the face. Franco, who is tall but scrawny, actually had the much larger Marshawn in a headlock, and was jabbing him in the nose. Marshawn, meanwhile, was pulling some sort of Matrix-like contortions, and reaching back over his shoulder to punch Franco.
As a result, they have both been suspended for the next three days, and we put them in different rooms for today. That brings us up to about 8:15 a.m. A wonderful time of the morning to regurgitate your breakfast all over the floor. At least that’s what Kevin thought. Not really wanting a reenactment of the dinner scene from Monty Python’s The Meaning of Life (“Better get a bucket”), I decided to take the rest of my class for a walk around the school while the custodian came to clean up the mess.
After lunch, I had a near-crisis on my hands when Ella told me that Lex had said “the S-word” to her. She looked positively shell-shocked, and I was already mentally gearing myself up to be angry with Lex. I figured that I ought to be sure of all the details first, though, so I asked Ella a few questions.
“What exactly did he say to you?” I asked.
“He pointed at us and laughed!” she declared. “Then he said the S-word!”
“What S-word? Can you whisper it to me? You won’t be in trouble.” I tried to reassure her, but at my request to hear the offensive term, Ella clamped both hands over her mouth and swiveled her head wildly.
“OK, then can you tell me what it rhymes with?” I expected her to say “bit,” or “quit,” or “barbecue pit,” but I think my question merely confused her.
Then I had a flash of insight. I was suddenly able to view the situation from the perspective of a third grader, and I realized that what you and I automatically associate with “the S-word” might not be the case here.
“Did he call you stupid?” I asked, with my new awareness. Ella, still with hands clamped tightly over her mouth, nodded her head up and down vigorously.
Mystery solved, case closed.
I know that “stupid” is a derogatory word, but I do think Ella was reacting a bit in the extreme. Sure, I prosecuted Lex to the fullest extent of the law, but it’s not like he yelled OUR “S-word” at her.
Having said that, I will admit that I have learned not to use the word “stupid” around the kids. Mainly because they do tend to treat it like a horrendous curse word. I always use the word “foolish” instead.
So as you can see, I’ve cleverly substituted the “F-word” for the “S-word.”
My kids aren’t the only ones acting out this week. At our after school meeting on Monday, I was sitting next to Mrs. Fitzgerald in the cafeteria when she directed my attention to a box of supplies sitting over in the corner. She said, “Look at that box, and see if you can guess what my kids were calling each other today.”
I scanned the printing on the box – “Napkins, cups, black sporks, trays.”
Would you believe I guessed correctly? Her kids were calling each other black sporks!! These kids will grab at anything to put each other down!
We spent the rest of the meeting coming up with our own list of things the kids could call each other to REALLY burn.
Yellow Highlighter
Late Homework
Sticky Note
Dirty Overhead Transparency
Outlying Data
Adopted Curriculum
I think being called any of these things would be a major blow to the ego, but I guess none of them even come close to calling someone a spork.
OH SNAP!!
Talk to you later,
Stu Pidass
Apparently my list of nasty words for third graders either touched a nerve or got some creative juices flowing, because I’ve received several emails from your esteemed colleagues calling me names. Winter called me a Defective Widget. Larry insinuated that I was a Cracked Ceramic. Tiffany said I had Worn Out Tooling.
It’s ok, though. My feelings weren’t hurt. I just called them all Big Fat Solder Blobs.
Once more, my classroom has become the revolving door. My latest ward, Marshawn, has left our fine school for better and brighter things. After returning from suspension on Tuesday, he was right back to his usual tricks – cussing at other kids, spouting nonsense, and sleeping in class. He had saved his craziest bon mots for Mrs. Bird, though. See if you can guess which one of these statements Marshawn did NOT share with Mrs. Bird and her class over the past couple of days:
A) “My dad is in jail!”
B) “My granny hit her head on a log and died, and her body is in the closet!”
C) “My mom puts Benadryl in my juice!”
D) “My family appreciates kind gestures, floral-scented potpourri, and breakfast in bed!”
If you said anything other than D, you are a Corroded Wingnut.
I’m sure Marshawn will be all right, though. After all, there are kids everywhere for him to call fat asses and no shortage of toilets to go berserk on. In much sadder news, I also lost another student yesterday, and she was one of my favorites. Tiny Anna, who is a very friendly and bright girl, brought in withdrawal papers yesterday. At first, I told her I wouldn’t sign them, but of course I had no choice. Her family is moving to Lancaster, which isn’t all that far from here, but it’s far enough to put her in another school. Maybe once she gets to her new school, her mother will allow her to obtain a pair of forbidden glasses.
Losing a sweetheart stinks, but losing a maniac isn’t too bad. However, Marshawn’s replacement, who arrived yesterday, makes Marshawn look like an upright, responsible member of society.
This new kid showed up with his father around 1:00 yesterday. He literally looked like something the cat had dragged in. He had on a T-shirt that looked like it had been turned inside out, his whole face looked filthy, and the whites of his eyes were much more yellowish than white.
His name is Marcus, and the first things out of his father’s mouth were that Marcus is a troublemaker, he got suspended at his old school a lot, and that “he might try to run away from you.”
Great! So now I’m what, Agent Girard from The Fugitive??
“What I need from each and every one of you teachers is a hard target search of every classroom, break room, bathroom, book room, and store room within a 10 mile radius.”
Marcus didn’t try to run away today, but he certainly did get under my nerves. For a kid who’s four-foot-nothing, he’s got more attitude than a Jersey Shore cast member. Some teachers are able to ignore disrespect and rudeness and move on, but I’ve always been stubborn. I have a real problem with little kids who ignore me and/or talk back.
My mood was worsened at around 2:30 today. I had pulled my new friend out into the hallway to have a chat. He had written a really nasty note in his math journal and was flashing it at all the kids around him. I thought it would be helpful to point out a few things to him.
1) The math journals are for – surprise! – math problems and not for starting fights.
2) I have 20/20 vision and can thus see everything he does in class.
3) There are better strategies to make friends at a new school than writing threatening notes.
4) The word “kill” (in his note, several times) has TWO L’s.