Wednesday, March 29, 2006
Just a Good Ol' Ben
With only a week and a half until spring break and the third marking period grading system opening tomorrow, the fourth marking period mindset has taken hold of both teachers and students at Underwood High School. Students who are passing are already planning their next year's classes. Teachers are beginning to focus less on the current group of students and more on the number of days left until the summer hits. And then there are the kids who failed classes for one, two, or even three marking periods.
Most of them could give a damn whether or not they changed their work habits this late into the game. After all, it is highly unlikely given multiple F's on their report card that they will be able to turn things around before the end of the year. Every so often, I'll hear kids tell me that from now on they're going to really buckle down and get to work. And that lasts typically around a day or two. And then it's back to old tricks.
For one kid today, that lasted about 2 minutes. This is a kid who has spent most of his time in my classroom slacking off and talking to his friends rather than listen to anything I have to say. So today, he decides suddenly to move to the front of the room where another of my students normally sits. With the de facto dissolution of my assigned seating policy however, the slacker student had claimed the seat as his own and they were fighting over it. Rather than make a big deal of the whole affair, I proposed a semi-Solomonic solution whereby both students would give up their claim to the desk and find alternative seating arrangements. (That way neither one feels like the other has been favored.) The other student complied. The slacker did not despite being asked twice over to move his seat. So I told him he would have to come see me after school for a detention to discuss this further.
He was rather annoyed at this, claiming that he really wanted to do better and couldn't hear in his old seat. When I asked him why, if he wanted to do better, he was talking through the entire hour of yesterday's class, he told me he was still doing his work. "Doing work" to my students means copying class notes...not listening so as to understand them. I attempted to explain this to the student...but needless to say, he would have none of it and stated that he would be cutting the detention.
Knowing that my position would only be strengthened if he cut the detention, I said nothing more. Until he decided to chime in at the beginning of the notes that he knew something that he had copied down the day before. Having just been dragged into a rather stupid argument by this kid, I made the rather clumsy mistake of acknowledging his comment verbally rather than just ignoring him. I told him I didn't care if he knew or not.
And then he just got pissed off. Not loudly. But consistently. He just started cussing me out. After a certain point, I started writing the names down. The classic putdowns were there: faggot, dickhead, asshole, etc. There were threats too...how many other teachers out there are told by their students that they are about to smack the shit out of you?
But my favorite one, the icing on the cake, was being called a fuckin' redneck. The sheer absurdity of the concept reiterated two things about this student:
1. He had never met that many actual rednecks.
2. He therefore automatically equated white people with redneck culture.
He also accused me of consistently trying to "play" him and fed into a conspiracy theory started later by another disruptive student that I'm moving the notes on the overhead too quickly so students can not copy them down well in order for them to all fail.
Ultimately, the student showed up for his detention, believe it or not. I read him the list of insults I have just posted here and asked him if I had left any out. He claimed that the smack the shit out of you comment was not directed at me, but acknowledged having said the other things. And then I just tore into him. I commented that even if his motivation was admirable, his decision to defy me in my classroom would not stand. I noted that in choosing to be a petulant brat, he had diminished his social standing in the eyes of myself and his peers by not being the bigger man and doing what had to be done. And I confirmed that not once during the entire period even after having been called all those things...not once did I ever insult him personally, demean his intelligence, or claim he was somehow incapable of succeeding in my class.
And then he said he felt angry and that he wasn't thinking. And I agreed, reminding him of a saying the Invisible Mom used to tell me when I was upset: We can not always control how we feel, but we can control how we act. And I told him that his class was frustrating. And there are times when I would like to smack kids upside the head for their disrespect or throw them out of a classroom or get rid of them like they were employees and I had the opportunity to actually fire them for incompetence. But I can't. Because I'm a teacher and as much as I may hate my students' behavior, I am obligated to do my best to reach every goddamn one of them...even the ones who act like bastards.
And then I let the kid go. I have to call his house tomorrow morning. I doubt anything will come of it. But just in case, I have a new weapon to hold over his head and those of his classmates...the intermural basketball tournament has started and his homeroom won their first game today. It would be a shame if someone were to contact the teachers in charge of that event and disqualify certain players for unsportsmanlike conduct...
I wonder if there is such a thing as a machiavellian redneck. If not, perhaps I shall invent one.
With only a week and a half until spring break and the third marking period grading system opening tomorrow, the fourth marking period mindset has taken hold of both teachers and students at Underwood High School. Students who are passing are already planning their next year's classes. Teachers are beginning to focus less on the current group of students and more on the number of days left until the summer hits. And then there are the kids who failed classes for one, two, or even three marking periods.
Most of them could give a damn whether or not they changed their work habits this late into the game. After all, it is highly unlikely given multiple F's on their report card that they will be able to turn things around before the end of the year. Every so often, I'll hear kids tell me that from now on they're going to really buckle down and get to work. And that lasts typically around a day or two. And then it's back to old tricks.
For one kid today, that lasted about 2 minutes. This is a kid who has spent most of his time in my classroom slacking off and talking to his friends rather than listen to anything I have to say. So today, he decides suddenly to move to the front of the room where another of my students normally sits. With the de facto dissolution of my assigned seating policy however, the slacker student had claimed the seat as his own and they were fighting over it. Rather than make a big deal of the whole affair, I proposed a semi-Solomonic solution whereby both students would give up their claim to the desk and find alternative seating arrangements. (That way neither one feels like the other has been favored.) The other student complied. The slacker did not despite being asked twice over to move his seat. So I told him he would have to come see me after school for a detention to discuss this further.
He was rather annoyed at this, claiming that he really wanted to do better and couldn't hear in his old seat. When I asked him why, if he wanted to do better, he was talking through the entire hour of yesterday's class, he told me he was still doing his work. "Doing work" to my students means copying class notes...not listening so as to understand them. I attempted to explain this to the student...but needless to say, he would have none of it and stated that he would be cutting the detention.
Knowing that my position would only be strengthened if he cut the detention, I said nothing more. Until he decided to chime in at the beginning of the notes that he knew something that he had copied down the day before. Having just been dragged into a rather stupid argument by this kid, I made the rather clumsy mistake of acknowledging his comment verbally rather than just ignoring him. I told him I didn't care if he knew or not.
And then he just got pissed off. Not loudly. But consistently. He just started cussing me out. After a certain point, I started writing the names down. The classic putdowns were there: faggot, dickhead, asshole, etc. There were threats too...how many other teachers out there are told by their students that they are about to smack the shit out of you?
But my favorite one, the icing on the cake, was being called a fuckin' redneck. The sheer absurdity of the concept reiterated two things about this student:
1. He had never met that many actual rednecks.
2. He therefore automatically equated white people with redneck culture.
He also accused me of consistently trying to "play" him and fed into a conspiracy theory started later by another disruptive student that I'm moving the notes on the overhead too quickly so students can not copy them down well in order for them to all fail.
Ultimately, the student showed up for his detention, believe it or not. I read him the list of insults I have just posted here and asked him if I had left any out. He claimed that the smack the shit out of you comment was not directed at me, but acknowledged having said the other things. And then I just tore into him. I commented that even if his motivation was admirable, his decision to defy me in my classroom would not stand. I noted that in choosing to be a petulant brat, he had diminished his social standing in the eyes of myself and his peers by not being the bigger man and doing what had to be done. And I confirmed that not once during the entire period even after having been called all those things...not once did I ever insult him personally, demean his intelligence, or claim he was somehow incapable of succeeding in my class.
And then he said he felt angry and that he wasn't thinking. And I agreed, reminding him of a saying the Invisible Mom used to tell me when I was upset: We can not always control how we feel, but we can control how we act. And I told him that his class was frustrating. And there are times when I would like to smack kids upside the head for their disrespect or throw them out of a classroom or get rid of them like they were employees and I had the opportunity to actually fire them for incompetence. But I can't. Because I'm a teacher and as much as I may hate my students' behavior, I am obligated to do my best to reach every goddamn one of them...even the ones who act like bastards.
And then I let the kid go. I have to call his house tomorrow morning. I doubt anything will come of it. But just in case, I have a new weapon to hold over his head and those of his classmates...the intermural basketball tournament has started and his homeroom won their first game today. It would be a shame if someone were to contact the teachers in charge of that event and disqualify certain players for unsportsmanlike conduct...
I wonder if there is such a thing as a machiavellian redneck. If not, perhaps I shall invent one.
Tuesday, March 28, 2006
A Penguin's Paean to a Person Who Passed.
I hope my friends at Crescat Sententia will allow me to indulge in selecting a poem of the night this evening to commemorate the passing of one of America's greatest secretaries of defense.
(ahem)
The wind doth smell so bittersweet,
Like jasper wine and sugar.
It must've blown through someone's feet
like those of Caspar Weinberger.
-P. Opus
R.I.P. Mr. Secretary. Give my regards to Stanislaw Lem.
I hope my friends at Crescat Sententia will allow me to indulge in selecting a poem of the night this evening to commemorate the passing of one of America's greatest secretaries of defense.
(ahem)
The wind doth smell so bittersweet,
Like jasper wine and sugar.
It must've blown through someone's feet
like those of Caspar Weinberger.
-P. Opus
R.I.P. Mr. Secretary. Give my regards to Stanislaw Lem.
Sunday, March 19, 2006
The Invisible Digest-March Madness!
Yes, I fully realize that the blog's been dead most of March. Here's an quick update for those curious what the hell is going on the life of your favorite invisible educator these days.
1. The sky is red.: This week is perhaps the strangest of the school year at Underwood High. Yes, after all the buildup and all the anticipation, it's finally standardized testing week for our juniors! Break out the quality cafeteria food, the raffle tickets, and the sharpened number 2 pencils...we're aiming for 95% junior attendance to achieve adequate yearly progress on this year's tests. Not in 11th grade? Well you don't matter...not this week! Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, juniors come in at 7:30 in the morning, get a delicious fresh breakfast, and head upstairs for 2 hours of testing. And then, assuming they play their cards right, they show their early dismissal slips and go home at 11:30. Just in time for the freshmen and sophomores to come in for their lunch and abbreviated schedule. The seniors are off on field trips, so basically it's an underclass only day.
Since I have three freshman classes, this is rather annoying. But just to complicate things further, the administration has decided to add two fun wild cards into the mix. First off, the schedule has been shortened such that only four classes are meeting, the first two and last two periods of the day. Unfortunately, that eliminates my prep period without cutting out any of my freshmen classes. Now I would not necessarily mind that decision, or even the 35 minute periods, if I felt like students could get where they needed to be and settled down in a reasonable amount of time. But...and this is a big but...they complicated things. They made it a dress-down day.
You don't need a math teacher to know that a late arrival, shortened periods, and lowered expectations so far as uniforms are concerned can only add up to disaster, but this year's chaos has far surpassed that of previous years so far as I'm concerned. I suppose the suffering of teachers and the lack of teaching going on across the ninth grade would be acceptable if the juniors were truly benefiting from the quiet atmosphere throughout the school and successfully completing their tests. But unfortunately, based on the students I observed today while serving as a proctor, I don't think that's going to happen. Too many sleepers or whiners who worried more about when they would be leaving than whether or not they answered all the questions on the test. And we just keep on pampering them...giving them snacks, raffle prizes, and the like in a desparate attempt to bribe them to succeed.
The whole situation reminds me of a story long overdue for inclusion here. A month or so ago, we had a professional development session in preparation for this week, where a principal from a nearby district informed us that we had to all believe that we were going to meet our testing goals. The idea was that if we believed it, and said it enough to the students, then there would be no doubt and therefore no way we could fail. He compared it to saying that the sky was red.
"If you keep saying the sky is red, and you keep telling the students that, then the students will eventually the sky is red!"
Unfortunately...the sky is not red. It is blue. And no matter how hard we hold our breathe, clap our hands, and wish on falling stars, it is probably going to stay that way.
2. Can I go now?: Last Thursday, both my chemistry and physical science classes had tests. As is customary, I send all of my chemistry students to my physical science room because the chemistry lab has no desks, just lab tables. On the day of a test, it seems to me only fair that they be placed in a scenario where they are not cheating quite so blatantly off of one another.
As is normally the case, the logistics of this transition went without a hitch with my first period honors chemistry class. My midday non-honors class however has an annoying tendency to show up ten minutes late...even when we are in our normal room. And that day, a flood in the nearby student lavatory presented an additional series of excuses and diversions upon which students might capitalize to postpone their test taking.
But twenty minutes into the period, everyone finally settled into their seats, and I passed out periodic tables, scrap paper, and the test booklet.
Within a minute and a half, a problem emerged. A student raised her hand and asked to go to the bathroom. I informed her that: a. I normally do not write bathroom passes. b. She had more than enough time to go in the 20 minutes before everyone got to class and we started. c. She had just received her test paper. (The unspoken comment, d., was that she had asked a similar request during the LAST test, and I had presented points a through c nearly verbatim in that instance as well.) Thankfully, she did not overreact or do anything to disrupt the test. Instead, she just got up quietly and walked out.
I quickly collected her test paper and set it aside. A few minutes later, there is a knock on the door and you'll never guess who it was...
The principal!
Just kidding.
It was only little Ms. Bathroom Break, who wanted to know since she was done, if she could come back inside. "No," I said. "You may go to your academy leader and if she asks why you are there you can explain that you walked out of class without permission. I am marking you as having cut my class."
Door slam.
That would be the end of the story, except I found out later she did take me up on my advice and went upstairs to find her academy leader. She apparently turned on the waterworks and presented this story with herself as the oppressed heroine and yours truly as the mustache-twirling, happiness-depriving villain. What's more, according to her version, she was feeling ill and inhumane bastard that I am, I would not let her seek medical attention. Sadly for her, this story didn't hold up, because when walked to the nurse's office she suddenly got reclusive and refused to seek help. She also admitted after further questioning that she had not told me she was feeling ill before leaving the room.
I wrote down everything that happened, but decided not to suspend the student for cutting. The consequences for her actions were twofold...being marked cut and receiving a zero on the test, which basically seals her failing grade for the marking period. I wonder if she'll care about either. Experience suggests not, but I've been wrong before. Not that she'll ever admit one way or the other.
3. I'll take swords for $300: Most of the time, the tests I give have at least some multiple choice questions on them. I like multiple choice tests is that there are only four answers to choose from on any given question and one of them must be right...either a, b, c, or d.
So why did a freshman answer a multiple choice question by writing "J" on his answer sheet?
That's right. J as in "Just shoot me already, I don't know the answer!"
Some of you might ask if the question was somehow misleading or perhaps had J as a possible answer.
No such luck. The only possibility I can think of is that all of the answers to that question involved a number of joules which as you doubtless recall are abbreviated "J." Still, this test, and others like it tend to make me feel like Alex Trebek in those Celebrity Jeopardy sketches from Saturday Night Live.
"And for final Jeopardy...write one of the first four letters of the alphabet. It could be an A or a B...perhaps a C or a D. Any of them will do."
(music plays...then stops.)
"Time to check our answers. Let's see what our contestants wrote. Mr. Connery...you wrote the letter J. And you wagered...'ump in the lake you Canadian ponce.' Very professional, Mr. Connery."
"So is your mutha...Tre-BEK!"
4. And while we're on the subject of multiple choice tests...: I recently received the results of the last series of benchmark tests. Rather disappointing numbers on the whole, but not entirely unexpected. After all, according to the official planning and scheduling timelines, I am at least a full month behind in both of my classes. Technically, I am expected to do two things now: 1. Print out congratulatory/deprecatory memoranda for each of my students informing them that the did/did not make the 75% proficiency goal. 2. Complete the administration's benchmark protocols.
The first of these objectives is almost a moot point as it appears NO ONE got 75% on the exams, even my scholars. This is partly because I am so far behind, but I remain convinced it is also because the kids are bad test takers. They love leaving answer sheets completely blank if they do not know an answer. And this is a shame because if they just guessed C for every question they would get something like a 28%. This leads me to wonder exactly how a few students are scoring in the 8-12% range. Shouldn't that be statistically improbable?
The second of these is rather disheartening, not so much for me, but for many other teachers at my school because for some reason, the vice-principals at my school have been placed in charge of collecting benchmark protocols and are taking their jobs very seriously. So much so that even teachers who TURNED IN their paperwork are being called in for conferences as if they hadn't. Noodle that one for a while.
5. "Remember, remember the 5th of November..." : Saw V for Vendettayesterday. It appears that Alan Moore's streak of great graphic novels turned into fair-to-middling action flicks continues unabated. This is not to say that the film is entirely flawed. Far from it...there are some outstanding elements. The cast is strong, with Hugo Weaving in particular demonstrating versatility and verve in his vocalizations. Some of the more convoluted subplots of the original source material have been omitted and some interesting new ones thrown in. (Biological warfare! Mobs swarming Parliament! Benny Hill music!!!) At the same time, other crucial elements that made the original source material such a potent story have been abandoned. I feel bad for John Hurt, whose role as leader of a dystopian British society is reduced from a calculating and interesting character to that of a Hitler meets Big Brother whose on-screen role consists almost entirely of yelling at people from a giant flatscreen television monitor. Oh...and this should have been released on 11/5/05 as originally planned...400 years to the day after Guy Fawkes's plot was foiled. But that's beside the point.
6. Mmmm...pi: So last Tuesday was Pi Day. (That's 3/14, for those keeping track at home. It'll work better in about 10 years when its 3/14/16.) As a science teacher, I didn't touch on the point seriously in class, preferring instead to touch on the last major point before my test on work, power, and energy---mass-energy equivalence and E=mc^2. I even broke out my Einstein tie for the occasion. The lesson went well enough thanks to the video resources at The Atomic Archive and the map I generated demonstrating the blast effect of a 100 kiloton nuke dropped on Underwood's roof. Only afterwards did I discover a remarkable coincidence; last Pi Day was Professor Einstein's 127th birthday. Who knew?
7. Memorandum Follies - "Go on...try to explain it.": From this week's Monday Update---"NO HALL PASSES FOR ANY REASON.--Emergencies only. Contact your Academy leader, the main office, or send a reliable student (with note) to the office for assistance."
8. Science Teacher Roulette: Monday morning, there were three freshman physical science teachers at Underwood High. By Monday afternoon, we had two. Yes, one of my colleagues got kicked out. The exact reasons behind this particular rotation remain vague at best...some combination of a lack of certification combined with what parents and students dubbed intolerable teaching methods. The teacher being kicked out is the fourth one to teach in that room since I started at Underwood. The new person coming in is an amiable fellow, a former long term substitute who recently obtained certification...in history. (Not that there's anything wrong with history!) Certainly, I'm going to do my best to help the new guy out, but when I heard the news, all I could think of was how any and all semblance of continuity in his students' science education had been completely washed down the drain. What will those students take away from this year when they were dealing with the mish-mashed teaching styles and knowledge of three very different science teachers? When I ponder this question more deeply, I can only wish my biology teaching colleagues the best of luck...because they're going to need it to effectively educate (and reeducate) that group of students.
UPDATE (3/24): The new guy found a history position. Looks like the roulette wheel keeps on turning!
9. Some Quotable Quotes: Random hilarious things overheard around Underwood High.
Yes, I fully realize that the blog's been dead most of March. Here's an quick update for those curious what the hell is going on the life of your favorite invisible educator these days.
1. The sky is red.: This week is perhaps the strangest of the school year at Underwood High. Yes, after all the buildup and all the anticipation, it's finally standardized testing week for our juniors! Break out the quality cafeteria food, the raffle tickets, and the sharpened number 2 pencils...we're aiming for 95% junior attendance to achieve adequate yearly progress on this year's tests. Not in 11th grade? Well you don't matter...not this week! Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, juniors come in at 7:30 in the morning, get a delicious fresh breakfast, and head upstairs for 2 hours of testing. And then, assuming they play their cards right, they show their early dismissal slips and go home at 11:30. Just in time for the freshmen and sophomores to come in for their lunch and abbreviated schedule. The seniors are off on field trips, so basically it's an underclass only day.
Since I have three freshman classes, this is rather annoying. But just to complicate things further, the administration has decided to add two fun wild cards into the mix. First off, the schedule has been shortened such that only four classes are meeting, the first two and last two periods of the day. Unfortunately, that eliminates my prep period without cutting out any of my freshmen classes. Now I would not necessarily mind that decision, or even the 35 minute periods, if I felt like students could get where they needed to be and settled down in a reasonable amount of time. But...and this is a big but...they complicated things. They made it a dress-down day.
You don't need a math teacher to know that a late arrival, shortened periods, and lowered expectations so far as uniforms are concerned can only add up to disaster, but this year's chaos has far surpassed that of previous years so far as I'm concerned. I suppose the suffering of teachers and the lack of teaching going on across the ninth grade would be acceptable if the juniors were truly benefiting from the quiet atmosphere throughout the school and successfully completing their tests. But unfortunately, based on the students I observed today while serving as a proctor, I don't think that's going to happen. Too many sleepers or whiners who worried more about when they would be leaving than whether or not they answered all the questions on the test. And we just keep on pampering them...giving them snacks, raffle prizes, and the like in a desparate attempt to bribe them to succeed.
The whole situation reminds me of a story long overdue for inclusion here. A month or so ago, we had a professional development session in preparation for this week, where a principal from a nearby district informed us that we had to all believe that we were going to meet our testing goals. The idea was that if we believed it, and said it enough to the students, then there would be no doubt and therefore no way we could fail. He compared it to saying that the sky was red.
"If you keep saying the sky is red, and you keep telling the students that, then the students will eventually the sky is red!"
Unfortunately...the sky is not red. It is blue. And no matter how hard we hold our breathe, clap our hands, and wish on falling stars, it is probably going to stay that way.
2. Can I go now?: Last Thursday, both my chemistry and physical science classes had tests. As is customary, I send all of my chemistry students to my physical science room because the chemistry lab has no desks, just lab tables. On the day of a test, it seems to me only fair that they be placed in a scenario where they are not cheating quite so blatantly off of one another.
As is normally the case, the logistics of this transition went without a hitch with my first period honors chemistry class. My midday non-honors class however has an annoying tendency to show up ten minutes late...even when we are in our normal room. And that day, a flood in the nearby student lavatory presented an additional series of excuses and diversions upon which students might capitalize to postpone their test taking.
But twenty minutes into the period, everyone finally settled into their seats, and I passed out periodic tables, scrap paper, and the test booklet.
Within a minute and a half, a problem emerged. A student raised her hand and asked to go to the bathroom. I informed her that: a. I normally do not write bathroom passes. b. She had more than enough time to go in the 20 minutes before everyone got to class and we started. c. She had just received her test paper. (The unspoken comment, d., was that she had asked a similar request during the LAST test, and I had presented points a through c nearly verbatim in that instance as well.) Thankfully, she did not overreact or do anything to disrupt the test. Instead, she just got up quietly and walked out.
I quickly collected her test paper and set it aside. A few minutes later, there is a knock on the door and you'll never guess who it was...
The principal!
Just kidding.
It was only little Ms. Bathroom Break, who wanted to know since she was done, if she could come back inside. "No," I said. "You may go to your academy leader and if she asks why you are there you can explain that you walked out of class without permission. I am marking you as having cut my class."
Door slam.
That would be the end of the story, except I found out later she did take me up on my advice and went upstairs to find her academy leader. She apparently turned on the waterworks and presented this story with herself as the oppressed heroine and yours truly as the mustache-twirling, happiness-depriving villain. What's more, according to her version, she was feeling ill and inhumane bastard that I am, I would not let her seek medical attention. Sadly for her, this story didn't hold up, because when walked to the nurse's office she suddenly got reclusive and refused to seek help. She also admitted after further questioning that she had not told me she was feeling ill before leaving the room.
I wrote down everything that happened, but decided not to suspend the student for cutting. The consequences for her actions were twofold...being marked cut and receiving a zero on the test, which basically seals her failing grade for the marking period. I wonder if she'll care about either. Experience suggests not, but I've been wrong before. Not that she'll ever admit one way or the other.
3. I'll take swords for $300: Most of the time, the tests I give have at least some multiple choice questions on them. I like multiple choice tests is that there are only four answers to choose from on any given question and one of them must be right...either a, b, c, or d.
So why did a freshman answer a multiple choice question by writing "J" on his answer sheet?
That's right. J as in "Just shoot me already, I don't know the answer!"
Some of you might ask if the question was somehow misleading or perhaps had J as a possible answer.
No such luck. The only possibility I can think of is that all of the answers to that question involved a number of joules which as you doubtless recall are abbreviated "J." Still, this test, and others like it tend to make me feel like Alex Trebek in those Celebrity Jeopardy sketches from Saturday Night Live.
"And for final Jeopardy...write one of the first four letters of the alphabet. It could be an A or a B...perhaps a C or a D. Any of them will do."
(music plays...then stops.)
"Time to check our answers. Let's see what our contestants wrote. Mr. Connery...you wrote the letter J. And you wagered...'ump in the lake you Canadian ponce.' Very professional, Mr. Connery."
"So is your mutha...Tre-BEK!"
4. And while we're on the subject of multiple choice tests...: I recently received the results of the last series of benchmark tests. Rather disappointing numbers on the whole, but not entirely unexpected. After all, according to the official planning and scheduling timelines, I am at least a full month behind in both of my classes. Technically, I am expected to do two things now: 1. Print out congratulatory/deprecatory memoranda for each of my students informing them that the did/did not make the 75% proficiency goal. 2. Complete the administration's benchmark protocols.
The first of these objectives is almost a moot point as it appears NO ONE got 75% on the exams, even my scholars. This is partly because I am so far behind, but I remain convinced it is also because the kids are bad test takers. They love leaving answer sheets completely blank if they do not know an answer. And this is a shame because if they just guessed C for every question they would get something like a 28%. This leads me to wonder exactly how a few students are scoring in the 8-12% range. Shouldn't that be statistically improbable?
The second of these is rather disheartening, not so much for me, but for many other teachers at my school because for some reason, the vice-principals at my school have been placed in charge of collecting benchmark protocols and are taking their jobs very seriously. So much so that even teachers who TURNED IN their paperwork are being called in for conferences as if they hadn't. Noodle that one for a while.
5. "Remember, remember the 5th of November..." : Saw V for Vendettayesterday. It appears that Alan Moore's streak of great graphic novels turned into fair-to-middling action flicks continues unabated. This is not to say that the film is entirely flawed. Far from it...there are some outstanding elements. The cast is strong, with Hugo Weaving in particular demonstrating versatility and verve in his vocalizations. Some of the more convoluted subplots of the original source material have been omitted and some interesting new ones thrown in. (Biological warfare! Mobs swarming Parliament! Benny Hill music!!!) At the same time, other crucial elements that made the original source material such a potent story have been abandoned. I feel bad for John Hurt, whose role as leader of a dystopian British society is reduced from a calculating and interesting character to that of a Hitler meets Big Brother whose on-screen role consists almost entirely of yelling at people from a giant flatscreen television monitor. Oh...and this should have been released on 11/5/05 as originally planned...400 years to the day after Guy Fawkes's plot was foiled. But that's beside the point.
6. Mmmm...pi: So last Tuesday was Pi Day. (That's 3/14, for those keeping track at home. It'll work better in about 10 years when its 3/14/16.) As a science teacher, I didn't touch on the point seriously in class, preferring instead to touch on the last major point before my test on work, power, and energy---mass-energy equivalence and E=mc^2. I even broke out my Einstein tie for the occasion. The lesson went well enough thanks to the video resources at The Atomic Archive and the map I generated demonstrating the blast effect of a 100 kiloton nuke dropped on Underwood's roof. Only afterwards did I discover a remarkable coincidence; last Pi Day was Professor Einstein's 127th birthday. Who knew?
7. Memorandum Follies - "Go on...try to explain it.": From this week's Monday Update---"NO HALL PASSES FOR ANY REASON.--Emergencies only. Contact your Academy leader, the main office, or send a reliable student (with note) to the office for assistance."
8. Science Teacher Roulette: Monday morning, there were three freshman physical science teachers at Underwood High. By Monday afternoon, we had two. Yes, one of my colleagues got kicked out. The exact reasons behind this particular rotation remain vague at best...some combination of a lack of certification combined with what parents and students dubbed intolerable teaching methods. The teacher being kicked out is the fourth one to teach in that room since I started at Underwood. The new person coming in is an amiable fellow, a former long term substitute who recently obtained certification...in history. (Not that there's anything wrong with history!) Certainly, I'm going to do my best to help the new guy out, but when I heard the news, all I could think of was how any and all semblance of continuity in his students' science education had been completely washed down the drain. What will those students take away from this year when they were dealing with the mish-mashed teaching styles and knowledge of three very different science teachers? When I ponder this question more deeply, I can only wish my biology teaching colleagues the best of luck...because they're going to need it to effectively educate (and reeducate) that group of students.
UPDATE (3/24): The new guy found a history position. Looks like the roulette wheel keeps on turning!
9. Some Quotable Quotes: Random hilarious things overheard around Underwood High.
- "Excuses is the tools of the ignorant." -Mr. Ebony, Underwood soccer coach (repeated for dramatic effect)
- "This is a celebration!" -Ms. Oldman introducing the annual honors society induction ceremony
- "This is not a celebration!" -Ms. Oldman near the end of the annual honors society induction ceremony after having to put up with the foolishness of the freshmen.
- "Then write a poem." -Sage advice of a fellow standardized test proctor to a student who said she did not know how to answer a math question .
- "They hatch outta eggs." -Freshman response after being caught eating and asked where the building's mice from.
Tuesday, March 07, 2006
Dude...Where's My Lab?
So you may not know this, but Tuesday is lab day. Or at least it's supposed to be lab day for the kids in my honors chemistry class. If you weren't aware, don't worry...they typically don't either. The reason for this is twofold. First, the school district's zany schedule often results in lab day being preempted in favor of benchmark testing, assemblies, or other administrative antics. Second, despite my increased experience these past few years, I still feel a tad awkward bringing students into the lab because they refuse to treat it seriously.
Now they don't take me particularly seriously on a day to day basis, but this is generally harmless stupidity. Not paying attention on a lab day is a prime example of harmful stupidity, the kind that gets little Suzie's hair singed and little Billy's eyes burnt out with acid. (As the saying goes, Mary didn't like to wear safety goggles...now she doesn't need them.) But, these are honors kids and we are in the midst of studying chemical reactions, so a lab activity was inevitable.
My plan was to do a fun lab involving the "gold plating" of a penny, using a zinc chloride solution to basically bronze the coins. Unfortunately, circumstances conspired against me. First, there was a building committee meeting with the principal ate up a great deal of time which could well have been used gathering chemicals and running the experiment on my own without pesky student-derived distractions. Then, a technical malfunction undermined the lesson setup in my physical science class. (Schools should have a reserve of rechargable batteries for DVD and VCR remote controls. Ok...maybe not all schools. I'd settle for just mine.) Upon returning upstairs to the lab, I was suddenly informed by the lab tech that despite Tuesday being my scheduled lab day, another science teacher had laid claim to the lab and I would either have to re-setup every in the lab next door or scrap the lesson. I had 10 minutes or so left before first period started and no backup plan.
This was not good, but on such short notice, it seemed logical to scrap the lab.
That does not mean that I felt comfortable with the decision and remained calm, cool, and collected.
Far from it...because I had not contrived a backup plan of any sort up to that point. So, I did the only thing I could. I improvised.
I passed on the lab worksheet and described what we will be doing (fingers crossed here) tomorrow. And then just as we finished the warm up activity on equation balancing in walked the vice principal to observe my class.
Great.
Just great.
No lesson plan. No data notebook. Disgruntled, labless students...
And yet things went ok on that front thanks to my latest innovation in chemistry education: The Two-Minute Drill. Students are sitting in groups. Each group has a whiteboard. I write an equation on the board and then start my stopwatch. They have two minutes to write the balanced equation on their whiteboard. Each team that gets it right earns a point. The team with the most points gets a homework pass (or some other prize).
Believe it or not the kids get into it. And the vice-principal even seemed to be enjoying himself as he helped the group where he sat balance equations. I heard later from another administrator that the VP had mentioned he enjoyed visiting my class, which confirmed this suspicion. So hopefully I won't be getting a negative performance review this year.
However, I still have issues with my lab being coopted by that colleague of mine. She has a tendency to do things like this...like when she made the bulletin board about this year's egg drop featuring pictures of the participants...all of whom were her students. Never mind who organized the whole thing or whose class had the most participating groups and unbroken eggs. Never mind that. I could post a rather lengthy discussion on the hilarity that was this year's egg drop, but for now I have to get to bed. We have a lab tomorrow and I can only hope it ends up going as well as my class today did...albeit with a slightly less stressful leadup.
And so to bed.
So you may not know this, but Tuesday is lab day. Or at least it's supposed to be lab day for the kids in my honors chemistry class. If you weren't aware, don't worry...they typically don't either. The reason for this is twofold. First, the school district's zany schedule often results in lab day being preempted in favor of benchmark testing, assemblies, or other administrative antics. Second, despite my increased experience these past few years, I still feel a tad awkward bringing students into the lab because they refuse to treat it seriously.
Now they don't take me particularly seriously on a day to day basis, but this is generally harmless stupidity. Not paying attention on a lab day is a prime example of harmful stupidity, the kind that gets little Suzie's hair singed and little Billy's eyes burnt out with acid. (As the saying goes, Mary didn't like to wear safety goggles...now she doesn't need them.) But, these are honors kids and we are in the midst of studying chemical reactions, so a lab activity was inevitable.
My plan was to do a fun lab involving the "gold plating" of a penny, using a zinc chloride solution to basically bronze the coins. Unfortunately, circumstances conspired against me. First, there was a building committee meeting with the principal ate up a great deal of time which could well have been used gathering chemicals and running the experiment on my own without pesky student-derived distractions. Then, a technical malfunction undermined the lesson setup in my physical science class. (Schools should have a reserve of rechargable batteries for DVD and VCR remote controls. Ok...maybe not all schools. I'd settle for just mine.) Upon returning upstairs to the lab, I was suddenly informed by the lab tech that despite Tuesday being my scheduled lab day, another science teacher had laid claim to the lab and I would either have to re-setup every in the lab next door or scrap the lesson. I had 10 minutes or so left before first period started and no backup plan.
This was not good, but on such short notice, it seemed logical to scrap the lab.
That does not mean that I felt comfortable with the decision and remained calm, cool, and collected.
Far from it...because I had not contrived a backup plan of any sort up to that point. So, I did the only thing I could. I improvised.
I passed on the lab worksheet and described what we will be doing (fingers crossed here) tomorrow. And then just as we finished the warm up activity on equation balancing in walked the vice principal to observe my class.
Great.
Just great.
No lesson plan. No data notebook. Disgruntled, labless students...
And yet things went ok on that front thanks to my latest innovation in chemistry education: The Two-Minute Drill. Students are sitting in groups. Each group has a whiteboard. I write an equation on the board and then start my stopwatch. They have two minutes to write the balanced equation on their whiteboard. Each team that gets it right earns a point. The team with the most points gets a homework pass (or some other prize).
Believe it or not the kids get into it. And the vice-principal even seemed to be enjoying himself as he helped the group where he sat balance equations. I heard later from another administrator that the VP had mentioned he enjoyed visiting my class, which confirmed this suspicion. So hopefully I won't be getting a negative performance review this year.
However, I still have issues with my lab being coopted by that colleague of mine. She has a tendency to do things like this...like when she made the bulletin board about this year's egg drop featuring pictures of the participants...all of whom were her students. Never mind who organized the whole thing or whose class had the most participating groups and unbroken eggs. Never mind that. I could post a rather lengthy discussion on the hilarity that was this year's egg drop, but for now I have to get to bed. We have a lab tomorrow and I can only hope it ends up going as well as my class today did...albeit with a slightly less stressful leadup.
And so to bed.
