Wednesday, March 30, 2005
What's resistance, Doc?
Excerpt from a take-home quiz on electricity given over spring break:
Q: How can the power going through a resistor be calculated?
A: The voltage multiplied by the carrot.
Normaly, there'd be more comments...but I have to go back to more grading.
So until later, th-th-that's all folks!
(iris in)
Excerpt from a take-home quiz on electricity given over spring break:
Q: How can the power going through a resistor be calculated?
A: The voltage multiplied by the carrot.
Normaly, there'd be more comments...but I have to go back to more grading.
So until later, th-th-that's all folks!
(iris in)
Tuesday, March 29, 2005
Classroom Pet
WARNING: The following tale of the Invisible Ben is rated PG-13. At least one animal was killed in the making of this blog post, so if you are squeamish where blood, guts, and death are concerned, why don't you wait until later this week when I plan to post about spring break.
Still there?
Ok. So today was a miserable day. Woke up before the alarm went off with a terrible stomach ache. Not the typical dread in the pit of the stomach that marks the start of anyone's work week, but actual physical pain. This was not a good omen, but a hot shower and a few Pepto-Bismol later and I was ready to go to work. Drove up to Underwood High and was pleased to discover that the place hadn't melted during the past weekend's storms.
The typical morning routine ensued. Checked my mailbox, made copies of the day's assignments, chatted with my colleagues about their spring breaks. One had the foresight to take a few days off earlier in the week before break officially started to travel to St. Croix. Which was fine for her, I suppose, but her substitutes--and yes, there were more than one--were all driven insane by the end of the week.
And then it was time for advisory. Somehow kids show up earlier than I expect, without fail. Even if I thought they get through the metal detectors by 7:00, at least one will be there at 6:45 waiting for me to let me know that I was late. Advisory: the usual humdrum stuff. I let my students play checkers to pass the time. Most of the homeroom didn't show up on time which considering they have a full half hour from 8-8:30 strikes me as a little absurd, but what's one more thing on the pile right?
So everything is well and good until probably around 8:20 or so when the kids start flipping out. They're running to the other side of the room. They're on desks. Yelling. Screaming. At first I thought it was another tick. (BEWARE THE EIGHT-LEGGED SCOURGE!) But no. It was a mouse.
Personally, I was relieved more than scared since I had been warning my students for the past 6 months that if they ate in the classroom and left a mess the mice would show up. And though I had told them that mice were there, and that I saw them while I stayed after school to grade, not once had a confirmed sighting been made during class. Until today.
But what to do? Because the mouse was not hugging the wall. It had strayed from the network of pipe fittings and ventilation shafts that provide easy access for the rest of the school's rodent population. And until it was dealt with, my classroom would be in absolute chaos...far beyond that of the tick incident. So I did the only thing I could think of. And maybe this says something about who I am, but here we go:
I crushed it. With my shoe. It was small, perhaps only a baby, and very fast, but I have recently dealt with roaches in my apartment and I was much faster. Stepped on it and snapped its back. It didn't squeal or make a noise, at least not one that was audible over my students. But I felt the bones in the spine crumple under my sole. And before I got the dustpan and broom, I watched it twitch its last little gasps of life away on the hardwood floor of my classroom. Sweeping it up casually...had to remain calm as an example... I was able to get the kids to sit down relatively quickly. No one wanted to go near the trash can now that it had a dead mouse in it, and that was fine with me because students walk around too much in class anyway.
I wish I could say that were the end of the story. But it's not. Because the visceral power of the mouse's death confirmed something. This was a symbol, a tangible demonstration of cause and effect. I could point to this dead mouse and say, THIS is what happens when you eat in class, children. Why do you think the school looks the way it does? Take responsibility and be mature! (The fact that their otherwise mild-mannered science teacher had killed tacked on additional "or else!" which I liked.)
So, I ran to the lab to look for formaldehyde. We didn't have that...too dangerous. But a quick check online for chemical preservatives indicated that alcohol might be effective, and I did have access to that! Grabbing a test tube, cork, and a bottle of isopropanol, I scurried downstairs, extracted the mouse from the trash with a pair of tongs and inserted it into the tube. I debated adding food coloring to the isopropanol, and may do so in the future, but for the time being, clear was fine. Let the students meditate upon that.
I showed our new classroom pet to a few of the students who I caught eating in class today. I pulled them aside at the end and asked them very politely please not to eat in class...and here's why. (flash the tube) Screaming generally ensued. I think I've finally touched a nerve. About time, given how many times they've gotten to me this year.
Tomorrow, I plan to mount the test tube horizontally over my desk with a sign asking students not to invite any more visitors into the classroom by eating. I have no doubt the kids will love their new classroom pet. A few of my colleagues have suggested that I invite them to help name it...but right now, I'm leaning towards Ralph. Other options considered: Reepicheep, Pinky, Mickey, and Muad'dib.
Some of you may be wondering after reading all this if I've finally gone off the deep end, and perhaps you are justified sitting there in front of a screen on the other side of the world. I'll leave you with only one thought, despite the temptation to expound at length about metaphorical connections between Ralph's martyrdom for the cause of classroom cleanliness and my own unique position as a teacher in this kind of environment. The thought is this: In a truly insane situation, sometimes the only sane thing to do, the only way one may ever survive, is to turn perspective on its head and embrace the madness. I wonder how well Ralph would get along with the Cheshire Cat...
WARNING: The following tale of the Invisible Ben is rated PG-13. At least one animal was killed in the making of this blog post, so if you are squeamish where blood, guts, and death are concerned, why don't you wait until later this week when I plan to post about spring break.
Still there?
Ok. So today was a miserable day. Woke up before the alarm went off with a terrible stomach ache. Not the typical dread in the pit of the stomach that marks the start of anyone's work week, but actual physical pain. This was not a good omen, but a hot shower and a few Pepto-Bismol later and I was ready to go to work. Drove up to Underwood High and was pleased to discover that the place hadn't melted during the past weekend's storms.
The typical morning routine ensued. Checked my mailbox, made copies of the day's assignments, chatted with my colleagues about their spring breaks. One had the foresight to take a few days off earlier in the week before break officially started to travel to St. Croix. Which was fine for her, I suppose, but her substitutes--and yes, there were more than one--were all driven insane by the end of the week.
And then it was time for advisory. Somehow kids show up earlier than I expect, without fail. Even if I thought they get through the metal detectors by 7:00, at least one will be there at 6:45 waiting for me to let me know that I was late. Advisory: the usual humdrum stuff. I let my students play checkers to pass the time. Most of the homeroom didn't show up on time which considering they have a full half hour from 8-8:30 strikes me as a little absurd, but what's one more thing on the pile right?
So everything is well and good until probably around 8:20 or so when the kids start flipping out. They're running to the other side of the room. They're on desks. Yelling. Screaming. At first I thought it was another tick. (BEWARE THE EIGHT-LEGGED SCOURGE!) But no. It was a mouse.
Personally, I was relieved more than scared since I had been warning my students for the past 6 months that if they ate in the classroom and left a mess the mice would show up. And though I had told them that mice were there, and that I saw them while I stayed after school to grade, not once had a confirmed sighting been made during class. Until today.
But what to do? Because the mouse was not hugging the wall. It had strayed from the network of pipe fittings and ventilation shafts that provide easy access for the rest of the school's rodent population. And until it was dealt with, my classroom would be in absolute chaos...far beyond that of the tick incident. So I did the only thing I could think of. And maybe this says something about who I am, but here we go:
I crushed it. With my shoe. It was small, perhaps only a baby, and very fast, but I have recently dealt with roaches in my apartment and I was much faster. Stepped on it and snapped its back. It didn't squeal or make a noise, at least not one that was audible over my students. But I felt the bones in the spine crumple under my sole. And before I got the dustpan and broom, I watched it twitch its last little gasps of life away on the hardwood floor of my classroom. Sweeping it up casually...had to remain calm as an example... I was able to get the kids to sit down relatively quickly. No one wanted to go near the trash can now that it had a dead mouse in it, and that was fine with me because students walk around too much in class anyway.
I wish I could say that were the end of the story. But it's not. Because the visceral power of the mouse's death confirmed something. This was a symbol, a tangible demonstration of cause and effect. I could point to this dead mouse and say, THIS is what happens when you eat in class, children. Why do you think the school looks the way it does? Take responsibility and be mature! (The fact that their otherwise mild-mannered science teacher had killed tacked on additional "or else!" which I liked.)
So, I ran to the lab to look for formaldehyde. We didn't have that...too dangerous. But a quick check online for chemical preservatives indicated that alcohol might be effective, and I did have access to that! Grabbing a test tube, cork, and a bottle of isopropanol, I scurried downstairs, extracted the mouse from the trash with a pair of tongs and inserted it into the tube. I debated adding food coloring to the isopropanol, and may do so in the future, but for the time being, clear was fine. Let the students meditate upon that.
I showed our new classroom pet to a few of the students who I caught eating in class today. I pulled them aside at the end and asked them very politely please not to eat in class...and here's why. (flash the tube) Screaming generally ensued. I think I've finally touched a nerve. About time, given how many times they've gotten to me this year.
Tomorrow, I plan to mount the test tube horizontally over my desk with a sign asking students not to invite any more visitors into the classroom by eating. I have no doubt the kids will love their new classroom pet. A few of my colleagues have suggested that I invite them to help name it...but right now, I'm leaning towards Ralph. Other options considered: Reepicheep, Pinky, Mickey, and Muad'dib.
Some of you may be wondering after reading all this if I've finally gone off the deep end, and perhaps you are justified sitting there in front of a screen on the other side of the world. I'll leave you with only one thought, despite the temptation to expound at length about metaphorical connections between Ralph's martyrdom for the cause of classroom cleanliness and my own unique position as a teacher in this kind of environment. The thought is this: In a truly insane situation, sometimes the only sane thing to do, the only way one may ever survive, is to turn perspective on its head and embrace the madness. I wonder how well Ralph would get along with the Cheshire Cat...
Thursday, March 24, 2005
Best soundtrack...ever?
Ok cinemaphiles. Below you will find a list of songs from a movie recently screened in the Invisible Penthouse. See if you can figure out the film:
Now the big question...what film is it? Sadly, this was something of a trick question. Because the film in question exists, as far as I know on at most half a dozen computers. It was created by a colleague of mine from my time in New Haven who has since become a private school teacher somewhere in the New York wilderness. (This should settle, once and for all, the question of what Ivy League classics majors do upon graduation.) Last week, he and his archaeologist girlfriend chanced to be in town visiting a local university. We caught up on old times and discussed the inherent kniftiness of Knossos (It's cool to call its inhabitants Cretans! I checked!) over dinner, and before the happy couple went off to another grad-student hosted archaeologically inspired soiree, they passed along a CD entitled "The Latin Movie."
"And what was this "Latin Movie"?" I hear you cry. It was a class project from my friend's seventh grade Latin class. And thankfully it was not actually spoken in Latin, or I would have been very confused. Instead, it presented the most wonderful cinematic representation of Hesiod's Theogony I believe I have seen in recent memory. Inspired casting, artful direction (complete with Gladiator style blurring effects for the climactic battle between the Olympians and the Titans), and as for the dialogue, well I think it speaks for itself:
Best student film I've seen since the days of the sock puppet epic in AP History class and a reminder not to stop believing in the creative abilities of my students. Over this spring break (which lasts until Tuesday), I will have to meditate upon that thought further.
Ok cinemaphiles. Below you will find a list of songs from a movie recently screened in the Invisible Penthouse. See if you can figure out the film:
- "Spring" from The Four Seasons - Vivaldi
- Hit Me Baby One More Time - Britney Spears
- Helter Skelter - The Beatles
- My Heart Will Go On - Celine Dion
- Loves Me Like a Rock - Paul Simon
- Fire - Jimi Hendrix
- Won't Be Fooled Again - The Who
- Don't Stop Believing - Journey
Now the big question...what film is it? Sadly, this was something of a trick question. Because the film in question exists, as far as I know on at most half a dozen computers. It was created by a colleague of mine from my time in New Haven who has since become a private school teacher somewhere in the New York wilderness. (This should settle, once and for all, the question of what Ivy League classics majors do upon graduation.) Last week, he and his archaeologist girlfriend chanced to be in town visiting a local university. We caught up on old times and discussed the inherent kniftiness of Knossos (It's cool to call its inhabitants Cretans! I checked!) over dinner, and before the happy couple went off to another grad-student hosted archaeologically inspired soiree, they passed along a CD entitled "The Latin Movie."
"And what was this "Latin Movie"?" I hear you cry. It was a class project from my friend's seventh grade Latin class. And thankfully it was not actually spoken in Latin, or I would have been very confused. Instead, it presented the most wonderful cinematic representation of Hesiod's Theogony I believe I have seen in recent memory. Inspired casting, artful direction (complete with Gladiator style blurring effects for the climactic battle between the Olympians and the Titans), and as for the dialogue, well I think it speaks for itself:
- "Oh my God, my children have one eye...what's with that?"
- "And so the Cyclops...or was it Cyclopes...I don't know...were banished to Tartarus" [cue Britney Spears music.]
- "What are you eating? Nothing....just your sons and daughters... Look, with ketchup, they're really good!"
- "Hi, I have a baby that I would prefer not to be eaten and I was wondering if you could accommodate me."
- "As you might guess, regurgitating five adults is slightly weakening..."
- "What about me, Demeter, goddess of the harvest? I haven't said one line in this whole thing...this is the worst job ever. I might as well be teaching Latin to a bunch of seventh grade brats!"
- "Give us the crown, you stupid old man... You will give it to us, if you know what is good for you, baby...Can't we all just get along?...She's new."
- "[Zeus] I am your father...NOOOOOOOOOOO"
- "Eventually the gods realized that since everyone was immortal, they needed a new plan."
Best student film I've seen since the days of the sock puppet epic in AP History class and a reminder not to stop believing in the creative abilities of my students. Over this spring break (which lasts until Tuesday), I will have to meditate upon that thought further.
Monday, March 21, 2005
Well nigh invulnerable!
Another tale from my last period class. Things have deteriorated with that crowd. Before they were merely disrespectful. Now they're downright intransigent. So, I decided to fight fire with fire, as it were. If they refuse to quiet down and be good students, I decided I was not going to waste my time trying to deliver complicated lessons. So for the past few days, they have been copying notes off the overhead and doing other busy work. Unfortunately this has done less to break their spirits than one might expect because now they see it as an opportunity to do more work and raise their flagging grades. (Top average score right now is around a 70%.)
Anyhow, the students were working, copying notes on circuits and chatting about the latest exciting news from the realm of hip-hop music when suddenly one of the guys yells:
"TICK!!!!"
Immediately, the entire side of the room is in a panic. I don't think I've ever seen it quite as bad. Students got up on their chairs...some ran to the other side of the room. There was talk of Lyme disease being bandied about. Despite all the chatter, the arachnid itself remained elusive once the lights had been turned on. I attempted to convince the students rationally that there was nothing to fear, but as is so often the case at Underwood my arguments were like tennis balls against a brick wall; nothing stuck.
I then moved toward the argumentative, asking why my students, who are normally so declare how tough they are, were so scared of a little insignificant tick? Tales of Lyme disease popped up again. One student said ticks were worse than mice because at least mice would get scared and run away upon confrontation. Another then commented that you could not crush a tick. They were indestructible! (IN-DE-STRUCT-ABLE!)
"Is that true, Mr. _______?"
"Is it true? You can't crush a tick!"
"Ticks can only be killed by fire!"
And so forth.
Finally, exasperated, I told them the truth:
"You know what, kids? You're right. Ticks are indestructible. In the entire history of human civilization, not one person has ever successfully crushed a tick to death. They are immortal. And the worse part is that if a tick bites you and sucks your blood, you become a were-tick: cursed to wander the streets of Philadelphia seeking the blood of other innocents!"
Now that's a scary story. But the scarier part is this: I swear...a few students believed it.
Another tale from my last period class. Things have deteriorated with that crowd. Before they were merely disrespectful. Now they're downright intransigent. So, I decided to fight fire with fire, as it were. If they refuse to quiet down and be good students, I decided I was not going to waste my time trying to deliver complicated lessons. So for the past few days, they have been copying notes off the overhead and doing other busy work. Unfortunately this has done less to break their spirits than one might expect because now they see it as an opportunity to do more work and raise their flagging grades. (Top average score right now is around a 70%.)
Anyhow, the students were working, copying notes on circuits and chatting about the latest exciting news from the realm of hip-hop music when suddenly one of the guys yells:
"TICK!!!!"
Immediately, the entire side of the room is in a panic. I don't think I've ever seen it quite as bad. Students got up on their chairs...some ran to the other side of the room. There was talk of Lyme disease being bandied about. Despite all the chatter, the arachnid itself remained elusive once the lights had been turned on. I attempted to convince the students rationally that there was nothing to fear, but as is so often the case at Underwood my arguments were like tennis balls against a brick wall; nothing stuck.
I then moved toward the argumentative, asking why my students, who are normally so declare how tough they are, were so scared of a little insignificant tick? Tales of Lyme disease popped up again. One student said ticks were worse than mice because at least mice would get scared and run away upon confrontation. Another then commented that you could not crush a tick. They were indestructible! (IN-DE-STRUCT-ABLE!)
"Is that true, Mr. _______?"
"Is it true? You can't crush a tick!"
"Ticks can only be killed by fire!"
And so forth.
Finally, exasperated, I told them the truth:
"You know what, kids? You're right. Ticks are indestructible. In the entire history of human civilization, not one person has ever successfully crushed a tick to death. They are immortal. And the worse part is that if a tick bites you and sucks your blood, you become a were-tick: cursed to wander the streets of Philadelphia seeking the blood of other innocents!"
Now that's a scary story. But the scarier part is this: I swear...a few students believed it.
Saturday, March 19, 2005
It was powered by disco!
Sometimes my attempts to mix a little bit of history into my science class work well. The kids got into our discussion of Einstein and his involvement with the creation of the first atomic bomb. More recently, they also seemed to enjoy my tales of Nikola Tesla's rivalry with Thomas Edison.
However, sometimes, the kids are talking too much and the takeaway lesson is somewhat distorted.
Take this example from our chat about the creation of the first voltaic pile:
"What did Mr. ______________ say?"
"He said John Travolta invented the first battery."
Sometimes my attempts to mix a little bit of history into my science class work well. The kids got into our discussion of Einstein and his involvement with the creation of the first atomic bomb. More recently, they also seemed to enjoy my tales of Nikola Tesla's rivalry with Thomas Edison.
However, sometimes, the kids are talking too much and the takeaway lesson is somewhat distorted.
Take this example from our chat about the creation of the first voltaic pile:
"What did Mr. ______________ say?"
"He said John Travolta invented the first battery."
Wednesday, March 16, 2005
Pains, Panes, Ties, & Sighs.
These past few weeks I have been out of sorts. One might think that with graduate school commitments out of the way that new extracurricular possibilities would open up and I would finally be able to catch up on my leisure reading, take that cooking class I always talked about, and maybe find some time to actually hang out and relax. But so far as March is concerned it seems this is not to be. If anything, things are becoming more hectic, with the imminent arrival of spring break adding energy to an already frenzied classroom system.
Not that my students would recognize the thermodynamic allusion. And why is that? Because I've scrapped heat. Yup. Three laws of thermodynamics...not that important. We're done with power, work, and energy and have moved on to electricity! And for 3.5 of my classes, things are going pretty much on track with my new unit plan. Just like all of my best teachers used to do in high school and college, I have now provided my students with a full list of the assignments and material to be covered for the next 2.5 weeks, straight through April 1. (No fooling!) And although my coverage is painfully basic (e.g. Coulomb? Who cares what that is?), the Iron Fist [TM] must be used to somewhat dramatic effect because between testing, spring break, and various assemblies, etc., the year is practically over. We need to get to chemistry, damnit.
Unfortunately the fact that we are nearly into the 4th marking period has not been lost on my students, many of whom have failed the rest of the year. And only now do they realize it may be too late for them to turn around! Which means that during say, a test like last Friday, students basically say "this test is too hard" and resign themselves to failure. I had one student literally throw a test out and tell me he'd see me in summer school. Another student in that class got a zero. She didn't cheat. She just didn't get any answers right. At all. On a multiple choice test. Figure the odds on that!
Last period has become something of a nightmare. I believe they are simply incapable of quiet work. Or even listening for a period longer than 30 seconds. Rewards (pizza parties, fun experiments, etc.) have not proven an effective incentive, so I had hoped punishment might work. They no longer receive my pre-made note sheets and today I loaded on the busy work, telling them that was all they seemed ready to receive from me. Paradoxically, but perhaps fittingly, the response has bene the exact opposite of that intended. They see the dittos, etc. as a chance to do more work and raise their grade.
Which may work for some, but not all. Like the girl who stood up in the middle of class on Monday, and upon being asked where she was going told me she was "packing her shit and going home." She stormed off with 15 min. left in the period and slammed my door, shattering all the glass in the one remaining original window. So now anyone can let themselves in my room. Which is just great for encouraging a climate of work and study, believe you me. One kid came over to my room and I tapped him on the shoulder with my eraser to nudge him away and get him to his class. He got angry and said I had to wipe that shit off. When I refused to comply, he grabbed my tie and used it to wipe it off. And I had no response. Because if I had given into instinct, slammed the kid into the locker and told him off, I would face almost certain disciplinary action.
So I guess the general mood for me at Underwood right now is malaise and moderate despair. My first 3 classes I can usually teach something, and my penultimate class is ok especially when I talk about historically themed topics. (Today's lesson: Nikola Tesla and his amazing Death Ray!) But last period is a travesty of a joke. And sadly I see no escape before spring break.
My five day, extended weekend joke of a spring break.
For now, I'm off to bed in a vain attempt to recapture my old morning routine. Let's see if I don't wake up with a feeling of sickness or dread in my stomach!
These past few weeks I have been out of sorts. One might think that with graduate school commitments out of the way that new extracurricular possibilities would open up and I would finally be able to catch up on my leisure reading, take that cooking class I always talked about, and maybe find some time to actually hang out and relax. But so far as March is concerned it seems this is not to be. If anything, things are becoming more hectic, with the imminent arrival of spring break adding energy to an already frenzied classroom system.
Not that my students would recognize the thermodynamic allusion. And why is that? Because I've scrapped heat. Yup. Three laws of thermodynamics...not that important. We're done with power, work, and energy and have moved on to electricity! And for 3.5 of my classes, things are going pretty much on track with my new unit plan. Just like all of my best teachers used to do in high school and college, I have now provided my students with a full list of the assignments and material to be covered for the next 2.5 weeks, straight through April 1. (No fooling!) And although my coverage is painfully basic (e.g. Coulomb? Who cares what that is?), the Iron Fist [TM] must be used to somewhat dramatic effect because between testing, spring break, and various assemblies, etc., the year is practically over. We need to get to chemistry, damnit.
Unfortunately the fact that we are nearly into the 4th marking period has not been lost on my students, many of whom have failed the rest of the year. And only now do they realize it may be too late for them to turn around! Which means that during say, a test like last Friday, students basically say "this test is too hard" and resign themselves to failure. I had one student literally throw a test out and tell me he'd see me in summer school. Another student in that class got a zero. She didn't cheat. She just didn't get any answers right. At all. On a multiple choice test. Figure the odds on that!
Last period has become something of a nightmare. I believe they are simply incapable of quiet work. Or even listening for a period longer than 30 seconds. Rewards (pizza parties, fun experiments, etc.) have not proven an effective incentive, so I had hoped punishment might work. They no longer receive my pre-made note sheets and today I loaded on the busy work, telling them that was all they seemed ready to receive from me. Paradoxically, but perhaps fittingly, the response has bene the exact opposite of that intended. They see the dittos, etc. as a chance to do more work and raise their grade.
Which may work for some, but not all. Like the girl who stood up in the middle of class on Monday, and upon being asked where she was going told me she was "packing her shit and going home." She stormed off with 15 min. left in the period and slammed my door, shattering all the glass in the one remaining original window. So now anyone can let themselves in my room. Which is just great for encouraging a climate of work and study, believe you me. One kid came over to my room and I tapped him on the shoulder with my eraser to nudge him away and get him to his class. He got angry and said I had to wipe that shit off. When I refused to comply, he grabbed my tie and used it to wipe it off. And I had no response. Because if I had given into instinct, slammed the kid into the locker and told him off, I would face almost certain disciplinary action.
So I guess the general mood for me at Underwood right now is malaise and moderate despair. My first 3 classes I can usually teach something, and my penultimate class is ok especially when I talk about historically themed topics. (Today's lesson: Nikola Tesla and his amazing Death Ray!) But last period is a travesty of a joke. And sadly I see no escape before spring break.
My five day, extended weekend joke of a spring break.
For now, I'm off to bed in a vain attempt to recapture my old morning routine. Let's see if I don't wake up with a feeling of sickness or dread in my stomach!
Thursday, March 10, 2005
"Take a look, it's in a book..."
One of the biggest concerns I have as I plan lessons, beyond my apparent lack of classroom management is the fundamental lack of student literacy and numeracy skills. When I actually receive a paper which claims, for example, that 1 x 1 = 2, it is obvious that there are some major deficiencies that need to be addressed.
Literacy issues can be even worse, as I have mentioned from time to time. My poor colleagues in the English department hesitate to give even a simple persuasive essay assignment because the students are unable to write coherent sentences. Reading assignments and discussions prove more effective, but finding relevant literature remains something of a challenge.
A lack of English literacy does not mean that my students are not reading however. Far from the case. But the books they choose. One of my more disruptive students left behind one of her reading selections today. She had been perusing it during my class review session and when I told her she basically said "whatever" and left. I had locked up my room by the time she came back and told her she could get it at the end of the day. She cussed me out. My students may not have a grasp of how to write a simple declarative sentence, but their profanity-laden imperatives are beyond reproach!
What I've learned from reading that book is that the matter is not getting our students to read. It's figuring out what the best thing is for them to read.
Consider the excerpt below:
"Yo, Im'ma bout to go downstairs and see if I can't catch some em strange for tonight." Pretty E said, getting up from the table carrying a bottle of Cristal.
"Hold up cousin, I'm coming too." Dog said, as he staggered off behind him.
"Yo, them two nigga'z is crazy." Hit Man said, answering his cell phone.
"You ain't lying," said Rasul, as he watched Hit Man curse out whoever was on the other end of the phone.
I picked this little excerpt basically at random, but it illustrates several linguistic points:
1. This book is not in English, or at least not standard English. The narration is written in English, but the grammar, syntax, and spelling of the dialogue are not. I suppose they qualify as Ebonics. But at the same time, I have to ask (or is it axe) is there a standardized set of grammatical rules for Ebonics? Or spelling? Can I pluralize anything by end it with "z" or is "s" still the preferred consonant for conclusions?
2. In juxtaposing conventional English with dialect, the assumption is implicitly made that the two are equivalent. Although both have their place, the ability to seamlessly alternate between the two depending on social setting is a skill my students lack, and it is vital that they obtain it before leaving high school. This sort of literature makes this task all the more challenging. Just looking at the quotes above consider how a prospective employer would appreciate reading a student statement using words like "em" (third person plural pronoun), improper subject verb agreement (You know what I is talking about...), and contractions that may or may not exist. ("Im'ma", for example puzzles me. Does it stand for "I am a..." or just "I am." And if the latter, why not just use "I'm"?)
3. Slang does still have a place in literature. No doubt of that, Shakespeare, Dickens, Joyce, Faulkner, all the classic writers and even modern works like A Confederacy of Dunces, which I am currently reading, make excellent and approrpriate use of dialect. The problem I have is not with slang, Ebonics, or colloquial speech. It's with a system that places so much emphasis on the mere act of reading that students are not instilled with the critical thinking ability to separate between slang and non-slang language.
The book itself is actually reviewed on Amazon, and I include a link for those who are curious here . Interestingly one reviewer even commented that although the storyline was ok, the text had a lot of grammatical errors. "And I don't mean the slang because I speak and understand slang very well," The reviewer notes. "Who ever edited this book should be fired."
So not only is it improper English...but it's improper improper English. So where does that leave the impressionable student readers? Incapable of speaking either version of the language properly and therefore doomed to a rather precarious fate so far as the world of employment and higher education are concerned. A vicious cycle perpetuated not via the usual means of economic or racial discrimination, but through that most insidious virus, the written word.
Afterthought: One final interesting thing of note is the book's back cover which describes the publishing house behind this particular text. I quote:
"The dark side, the wrong road is where the criminal behaviors, etc, is just reality...Whether it's white or blue collar crime, robbery or murder, drug trafficking or prostitution, we are all just one misfortune away from falling into the arms of what society calls a dead end."
No doubt a rather grim statement, and yet I smile when I realize that I heard the same idea, that all it takes is one bad day to drive a man over the edge, stated with far more eloquence and panache in a graphic novel I recently purchased at my local bookstore, The Killing Joke by Alan Moore.
One of the biggest concerns I have as I plan lessons, beyond my apparent lack of classroom management is the fundamental lack of student literacy and numeracy skills. When I actually receive a paper which claims, for example, that 1 x 1 = 2, it is obvious that there are some major deficiencies that need to be addressed.
Literacy issues can be even worse, as I have mentioned from time to time. My poor colleagues in the English department hesitate to give even a simple persuasive essay assignment because the students are unable to write coherent sentences. Reading assignments and discussions prove more effective, but finding relevant literature remains something of a challenge.
A lack of English literacy does not mean that my students are not reading however. Far from the case. But the books they choose. One of my more disruptive students left behind one of her reading selections today. She had been perusing it during my class review session and when I told her she basically said "whatever" and left. I had locked up my room by the time she came back and told her she could get it at the end of the day. She cussed me out. My students may not have a grasp of how to write a simple declarative sentence, but their profanity-laden imperatives are beyond reproach!
What I've learned from reading that book is that the matter is not getting our students to read. It's figuring out what the best thing is for them to read.
Consider the excerpt below:
"Yo, Im'ma bout to go downstairs and see if I can't catch some em strange for tonight." Pretty E said, getting up from the table carrying a bottle of Cristal.
"Hold up cousin, I'm coming too." Dog said, as he staggered off behind him.
"Yo, them two nigga'z is crazy." Hit Man said, answering his cell phone.
"You ain't lying," said Rasul, as he watched Hit Man curse out whoever was on the other end of the phone.
I picked this little excerpt basically at random, but it illustrates several linguistic points:
1. This book is not in English, or at least not standard English. The narration is written in English, but the grammar, syntax, and spelling of the dialogue are not. I suppose they qualify as Ebonics. But at the same time, I have to ask (or is it axe) is there a standardized set of grammatical rules for Ebonics? Or spelling? Can I pluralize anything by end it with "z" or is "s" still the preferred consonant for conclusions?
2. In juxtaposing conventional English with dialect, the assumption is implicitly made that the two are equivalent. Although both have their place, the ability to seamlessly alternate between the two depending on social setting is a skill my students lack, and it is vital that they obtain it before leaving high school. This sort of literature makes this task all the more challenging. Just looking at the quotes above consider how a prospective employer would appreciate reading a student statement using words like "em" (third person plural pronoun), improper subject verb agreement (You know what I is talking about...), and contractions that may or may not exist. ("Im'ma", for example puzzles me. Does it stand for "I am a..." or just "I am." And if the latter, why not just use "I'm"?)
3. Slang does still have a place in literature. No doubt of that, Shakespeare, Dickens, Joyce, Faulkner, all the classic writers and even modern works like A Confederacy of Dunces, which I am currently reading, make excellent and approrpriate use of dialect. The problem I have is not with slang, Ebonics, or colloquial speech. It's with a system that places so much emphasis on the mere act of reading that students are not instilled with the critical thinking ability to separate between slang and non-slang language.
The book itself is actually reviewed on Amazon, and I include a link for those who are curious here . Interestingly one reviewer even commented that although the storyline was ok, the text had a lot of grammatical errors. "And I don't mean the slang because I speak and understand slang very well," The reviewer notes. "Who ever edited this book should be fired."
So not only is it improper English...but it's improper improper English. So where does that leave the impressionable student readers? Incapable of speaking either version of the language properly and therefore doomed to a rather precarious fate so far as the world of employment and higher education are concerned. A vicious cycle perpetuated not via the usual means of economic or racial discrimination, but through that most insidious virus, the written word.
Afterthought: One final interesting thing of note is the book's back cover which describes the publishing house behind this particular text. I quote:
"The dark side, the wrong road is where the criminal behaviors, etc, is just reality...Whether it's white or blue collar crime, robbery or murder, drug trafficking or prostitution, we are all just one misfortune away from falling into the arms of what society calls a dead end."
No doubt a rather grim statement, and yet I smile when I realize that I heard the same idea, that all it takes is one bad day to drive a man over the edge, stated with far more eloquence and panache in a graphic novel I recently purchased at my local bookstore, The Killing Joke by Alan Moore.
Wednesday, March 09, 2005
Things That Were Thrown Around in My Classroom Today
- Paper Balls (consisting primarily of class notes provided by teacher)
- Pencils and pens (several of each in various states of writing readiness)
- Lip balm (including at least one small container of Halal Lip Balm which caught my eye as an interesting artifact.)
- Old pieces of candy (similar in appearance to pastel colored Mike & Ike Candies)
- Pieces of soap (Dial, antibacterial!)
- Punches (several, between two normally calm students during my advisory; needless to say, I doubt I'll have to deal with either student for the rest of the week)
- Excuses ("I didn't bring in my simple machine project today because...", "We weren't fighting!" , etc.)
- Nuclear weapon design spec.'s (Fat Man and Little Boy a specialty!)
- Random movie allusions (Look very closely. There is no textbook. There is just energy standing still.)
- Ironic musical numbers (Dr. Strangelove's final moments, watching the bombs drop to the strains of "We'll Meet Again")
- World-famous equations (Something about energy, mass, and the speed of light)
- Insults ("As a class, this period's behavior stinks!")
- Compliments ("There are no easy answers when it comes to the atomic bomb, but you are asking the right questions. I hope you keep thinking about them.")
- Personal anecdotes ("I had an uncle who was on Tinian!")
- Political discussions ("Why don't we just nuke Iraq?")
- Probing queries ("Are you Jewish?" "Are you a Republican or a Democrat?" "If you're an Independent, does your party ohave a mascot?")
- Education (flung about like nobody's business...but only in certain classes)
Friday, March 04, 2005
Me fail English? That's unpossible!
A fun little quiz referred to me by The Autumn Phoenix. How good is your English?
If you think you know it all try The Commonly Confused Words Test.
As for my statistics? Well...I'm uncertain what to make of them.
English Genius
You scored 100% Beginner, 100% Intermediate, 93% Advanced, and 77% Expert!
You did so extremely well, even I can't find a word to describe your excellence! You have the uncommon intelligence necessary to understand things that most people don't. You have an extensive vocabulary, and you're not afraid to use it properly! Way to go!
Thank you so much for taking my test. I hope you enjoyed it!
Test statistics:
Maybe I should be teaching something that involves more...I dunno...words. Or perhaps some place where I could use them more effectively.
A fun little quiz referred to me by The Autumn Phoenix. How good is your English?
If you think you know it all try The Commonly Confused Words Test.
As for my statistics? Well...I'm uncertain what to make of them.
English Genius
You scored 100% Beginner, 100% Intermediate, 93% Advanced, and 77% Expert!
You did so extremely well, even I can't find a word to describe your excellence! You have the uncommon intelligence necessary to understand things that most people don't. You have an extensive vocabulary, and you're not afraid to use it properly! Way to go!
Thank you so much for taking my test. I hope you enjoyed it!
Test statistics:
- Compared to users who took the test and are and in your age group:
- 100% had lower Beginner scores.
- 100% had lower Intermediate scores.
- 100% had lower Advanced scores.
- 100% had lower Expert scores.
Maybe I should be teaching something that involves more...I dunno...words. Or perhaps some place where I could use them more effectively.
Thursday, March 03, 2005
NCLB v. The Lone Star State
This just in the InvisiblE-Mail from my friends at The Sleeper Cell, who are always keeping their ears to the ground for news related to matters political. It seems the No Child Left Behind Act is being opposed in the some most unexpected places!
Read below to learn more:
"Houston Miracle" Comes Home to Roost
Before President Bush touted himself as the "war time" president, he
touted himself as the "education president." The main basis for the
self-congratulation was the so-called "Houston Miracle," referring to
the startling improvement in dropout rates under Houston School
Superintendent Rod Paige - who was then promoted to Secretary of
Education where he would refer to one of the nation's largest
teachers' associations as "terrorists."
In the furious pace of the election battle, this whistleblower,
reported on by CBS News, was barely noticed:
"I was shocked. I said, 'How can that be,' says Robert Kimball, an
assistant principal at Sharpstown High School, on Houston's West Side.
His school claimed that no students - not a single one - had dropped
out in 2001-2002.
"But that's not what Kimball saw: 'I had been at the high school
for three years, and I had seen many, many students, several hundred a
year, go out the door. And I knew that they were quitting. They told
me they were quitting.'
[...]
"All in all, 463 kids left Sharpstown High School that year, for a
variety of reasons. The school reported zero dropouts, but dozens of
the students did just that. School officials hid that fact by
classifying, or coding, them as leaving for acceptable reasons:
transferring to another school, or returning to their native country.
"'That's how you get to zero dropouts. By assigning codes that
say, 'Well, this student, you know, went to another school. He did
this or that.' And basically, all 463 students disappeared. And the
school reported zero dropouts for the year,' says Kimball. 'They were
not counted as dropouts, so the school had an outstanding record.'"
This week, however, the "Houston Miracle," having already gone
national through the underfunded No Child Left Behind bill, came back
home to roost. Again from DeLay's hometown paper, the Houston
Chronicle:
"Faced with the prospect of tagging nearly half of the state's
school districts with failing grades under the federal accountability
system, Texas Education Commissioner Shirley Neeley instead changed
the rules to reduce the number of failing schools sixfold.
"The move, described by some as a direct challenge to the U.S.
Department of Education's enforcement of the controversial No Child
Left Behind Act, sets up a potential showdown between Neeley and the
Bush administration.
"National education observers said Neeley's move makes Texas the
first state to outright refuse to follow the law's requirements."
Two points of clarification:
1. Sourcing--This material does come from a a Democratic Congressional Campaign Committee e-mail, however the quoted sections are from legitimate news sources. (Though some might argue CBS News has lost some of its prestige as of late...)
2. NCLB...all bad?: No. Mostly bad? In its current form, almost certainly. I recently attended a conference to discuss my district's recently implemented NCLB-compliant core curriculum and the universal assessment among teachers from all departments is that NCLB overemphasizesstandardized tests that reward breadth of knowledge rather than depth of understanding. How else to explain the 16 day unit on environmental science shoved into a physical science course. 5 full days on wetlands, but Newton's laws are given 2? (3 maybe, if you can get the lab to work out) Standards based education is not a bad thing, but the name of the game is prioritizing. What is crucial knowledge for a student to take away from a high school science class? What will they find most useful and effective later on, either in college or in everyday life? This needs to be laid out clearly, and ideally given a level of universality across the country, especially so far as the sciences and mathematics are concerned. Given a fundamental reform of these standards and the testing requirements, then theoretically NCLB might have some potential to reduce the achievement gap. Even then however, I would still have questions about the proper response to take towards schools that do NOT for some reason make yearly progress goals in accordance with NCLB. Especially given that Underwood may be in that category soon if the rumors are to be believed...
This just in the InvisiblE-Mail from my friends at The Sleeper Cell, who are always keeping their ears to the ground for news related to matters political. It seems the No Child Left Behind Act is being opposed in the some most unexpected places!
Read below to learn more:
"Houston Miracle" Comes Home to Roost
Before President Bush touted himself as the "war time" president, he
touted himself as the "education president." The main basis for the
self-congratulation was the so-called "Houston Miracle," referring to
the startling improvement in dropout rates under Houston School
Superintendent Rod Paige - who was then promoted to Secretary of
Education where he would refer to one of the nation's largest
teachers' associations as "terrorists."
In the furious pace of the election battle, this whistleblower,
reported on by CBS News, was barely noticed:
"I was shocked. I said, 'How can that be,' says Robert Kimball, an
assistant principal at Sharpstown High School, on Houston's West Side.
His school claimed that no students - not a single one - had dropped
out in 2001-2002.
"But that's not what Kimball saw: 'I had been at the high school
for three years, and I had seen many, many students, several hundred a
year, go out the door. And I knew that they were quitting. They told
me they were quitting.'
[...]
"All in all, 463 kids left Sharpstown High School that year, for a
variety of reasons. The school reported zero dropouts, but dozens of
the students did just that. School officials hid that fact by
classifying, or coding, them as leaving for acceptable reasons:
transferring to another school, or returning to their native country.
"'That's how you get to zero dropouts. By assigning codes that
say, 'Well, this student, you know, went to another school. He did
this or that.' And basically, all 463 students disappeared. And the
school reported zero dropouts for the year,' says Kimball. 'They were
not counted as dropouts, so the school had an outstanding record.'"
This week, however, the "Houston Miracle," having already gone
national through the underfunded No Child Left Behind bill, came back
home to roost. Again from DeLay's hometown paper, the Houston
Chronicle:
"Faced with the prospect of tagging nearly half of the state's
school districts with failing grades under the federal accountability
system, Texas Education Commissioner Shirley Neeley instead changed
the rules to reduce the number of failing schools sixfold.
"The move, described by some as a direct challenge to the U.S.
Department of Education's enforcement of the controversial No Child
Left Behind Act, sets up a potential showdown between Neeley and the
Bush administration.
"National education observers said Neeley's move makes Texas the
first state to outright refuse to follow the law's requirements."
Two points of clarification:
1. Sourcing--This material does come from a a Democratic Congressional Campaign Committee e-mail, however the quoted sections are from legitimate news sources. (Though some might argue CBS News has lost some of its prestige as of late...)
2. NCLB...all bad?: No. Mostly bad? In its current form, almost certainly. I recently attended a conference to discuss my district's recently implemented NCLB-compliant core curriculum and the universal assessment among teachers from all departments is that NCLB overemphasizesstandardized tests that reward breadth of knowledge rather than depth of understanding. How else to explain the 16 day unit on environmental science shoved into a physical science course. 5 full days on wetlands, but Newton's laws are given 2? (3 maybe, if you can get the lab to work out) Standards based education is not a bad thing, but the name of the game is prioritizing. What is crucial knowledge for a student to take away from a high school science class? What will they find most useful and effective later on, either in college or in everyday life? This needs to be laid out clearly, and ideally given a level of universality across the country, especially so far as the sciences and mathematics are concerned. Given a fundamental reform of these standards and the testing requirements, then theoretically NCLB might have some potential to reduce the achievement gap. Even then however, I would still have questions about the proper response to take towards schools that do NOT for some reason make yearly progress goals in accordance with NCLB. Especially given that Underwood may be in that category soon if the rumors are to be believed...
Wednesday, March 02, 2005
A Day's Work
This is an old story, and I'm not sure I've related it to anyone, but it seems worthy of comment, and so here it is.
This was from a few weeks ago, the day of the egg drop. I went into Rite-Aid to purchase some last minute supplies and, it being a busy day, was in an obvious hurry to get to school and get things set up. The woman behind the counter had likely been there since 5 or 6 in the morning and could care less about this crazy guy in the tie who comes in at 6:55 asking for Cadbury cream eggs and masking tape.
As I reach to pay her the money she comments that my hands are so smooth "I must never have done a day's work in my life."
I was a little shocked at this statement, loaded as it was with subtext at such an early time of morning. It all fed into my earlier concerns about my job not being respected as a profession. But I just muttered in response that "I teach high school students," and went on my way.
Part of me wonders if she felt guilty after I left. And another part wonders...should I feel guilty for wanting her to feel that way.
This is an old story, and I'm not sure I've related it to anyone, but it seems worthy of comment, and so here it is.
This was from a few weeks ago, the day of the egg drop. I went into Rite-Aid to purchase some last minute supplies and, it being a busy day, was in an obvious hurry to get to school and get things set up. The woman behind the counter had likely been there since 5 or 6 in the morning and could care less about this crazy guy in the tie who comes in at 6:55 asking for Cadbury cream eggs and masking tape.
As I reach to pay her the money she comments that my hands are so smooth "I must never have done a day's work in my life."
I was a little shocked at this statement, loaded as it was with subtext at such an early time of morning. It all fed into my earlier concerns about my job not being respected as a profession. But I just muttered in response that "I teach high school students," and went on my way.
Part of me wonders if she felt guilty after I left. And another part wonders...should I feel guilty for wanting her to feel that way.
Tuesday, March 01, 2005
An Open Letter
Dear Powers that Be,
Can I call you PTB for short? Or I could call you Betty, and Betty when you call me you can call me Al, as in "Al I ever wanted was a snow day." Listen here, Betsy, because I have a serious beef with your decision, announced this morning, to open up local schools following the recent snowstorm. Perhaps I would not be quite as annoyed if this were a one-time deal, but this is the second storm in a row where students have been given an early dismissal the day of a storm and then were expected to come to school on time the following morning. When you closed school yesterday, at 1 in the afternoon, it was with the full expectation and understanding that this was a MAJOR WINTER STORM with significant accumulations across the city and the region. Yet here we are today, 5:30 in the morning, and look!: we get to go to school!
Now Betsy, I know that you are sitting there snug and secure in your warm offices downtown and the decision to keep the school's open come hell or high water seems remarkably simple. After all, if you can get to work, we can get to work. But things are not quite that simple. Consider the remarkably poor level of snow clearance on the majority of roads in the city. The major avenues and bus routes are well cleaned, but otherwise the back roads where most students (and at least one teacher) live are left pracitcally uncleaned. And that's just in the city. What about my colleagues who commute anywhere from half an hour to an hour away in the suburbs? The highways are relatively clear right now, but as traffic increases for morning rush, what little ice and snow remains will almost certainly bog people down. Last Friday around 20 teachers were absent, and I'm betting the equivalent occurs today.
But let's get to the real point Ms. B: the students. The majority of them will not be at school. Yes...that's right. Even though you said they should be at school. They will NOT be there. Inertia is a powerful phenomenon. Some students will be in attendance--generally the most dense--the ones whose parents won't let them stay home because they would misbehave. But even the most attentive of student, the one who shows up because they like school, will be mentally off today. Because half their classmates will be missing...and they know that very little new material will be covered if it will have to be retaught the following day. Last week I created a makeshift lesson by letting the students do bookwork. But there was not enough time on Monday to introduce new material to students to really give them review. This does not mean I will not try if necessary. But holy moly, Betsy-wetsy, this is going to be a wasted day. And anyone in the classroom could TELL you that.
But honestly, Queen Bess, you've lost touch with the common classroom. I'm not even sure if you've even been there. Probably you graduated from a top business school with a degree in administration. Maybe a doctorate in education. And you thought you could run the school system like a business and treat students like an obedient and loyal workforce. But your real workforce, the ones who stick with this system even when it gives up on the students, your teachers, they are the ones who have to clean up the messes you cause. Messes like this snow day, or rather lack of a snow day. Because it will be a mess. As much teaching will likely occur in my classroom today as if I stayed at home. But I still have to go to school. And why? Why are both students and teachers being denied what is perhaps the last opportunity the year will offer for a weather related day off and all the stress relief benefits such would entail? Why deny us all one last happy moment of winter before the long stretch towards spring break?
You tell me, Ms. B. I'm all ears.
Sincerely yours,
Invisible Ben
Dear Powers that Be,
Can I call you PTB for short? Or I could call you Betty, and Betty when you call me you can call me Al, as in "Al I ever wanted was a snow day." Listen here, Betsy, because I have a serious beef with your decision, announced this morning, to open up local schools following the recent snowstorm. Perhaps I would not be quite as annoyed if this were a one-time deal, but this is the second storm in a row where students have been given an early dismissal the day of a storm and then were expected to come to school on time the following morning. When you closed school yesterday, at 1 in the afternoon, it was with the full expectation and understanding that this was a MAJOR WINTER STORM with significant accumulations across the city and the region. Yet here we are today, 5:30 in the morning, and look!: we get to go to school!
Now Betsy, I know that you are sitting there snug and secure in your warm offices downtown and the decision to keep the school's open come hell or high water seems remarkably simple. After all, if you can get to work, we can get to work. But things are not quite that simple. Consider the remarkably poor level of snow clearance on the majority of roads in the city. The major avenues and bus routes are well cleaned, but otherwise the back roads where most students (and at least one teacher) live are left pracitcally uncleaned. And that's just in the city. What about my colleagues who commute anywhere from half an hour to an hour away in the suburbs? The highways are relatively clear right now, but as traffic increases for morning rush, what little ice and snow remains will almost certainly bog people down. Last Friday around 20 teachers were absent, and I'm betting the equivalent occurs today.
But let's get to the real point Ms. B: the students. The majority of them will not be at school. Yes...that's right. Even though you said they should be at school. They will NOT be there. Inertia is a powerful phenomenon. Some students will be in attendance--generally the most dense--the ones whose parents won't let them stay home because they would misbehave. But even the most attentive of student, the one who shows up because they like school, will be mentally off today. Because half their classmates will be missing...and they know that very little new material will be covered if it will have to be retaught the following day. Last week I created a makeshift lesson by letting the students do bookwork. But there was not enough time on Monday to introduce new material to students to really give them review. This does not mean I will not try if necessary. But holy moly, Betsy-wetsy, this is going to be a wasted day. And anyone in the classroom could TELL you that.
But honestly, Queen Bess, you've lost touch with the common classroom. I'm not even sure if you've even been there. Probably you graduated from a top business school with a degree in administration. Maybe a doctorate in education. And you thought you could run the school system like a business and treat students like an obedient and loyal workforce. But your real workforce, the ones who stick with this system even when it gives up on the students, your teachers, they are the ones who have to clean up the messes you cause. Messes like this snow day, or rather lack of a snow day. Because it will be a mess. As much teaching will likely occur in my classroom today as if I stayed at home. But I still have to go to school. And why? Why are both students and teachers being denied what is perhaps the last opportunity the year will offer for a weather related day off and all the stress relief benefits such would entail? Why deny us all one last happy moment of winter before the long stretch towards spring break?
You tell me, Ms. B. I'm all ears.
Sincerely yours,
Invisible Ben
