Tales of the Invisible Ben

Brave...and smart?

During this afternoon's discussion of lunar phases, a student informed me I have the I.Q. of a toaster.

I didn't really have a response, because it is a rather surreal insult.

The funny thing is, though, maybe he's right.

There are many things that I can do that my toaster can not (like blogging, for example!), but I don't think I could really make toast effectively without its assistance!

Toasting bread by hand, maintaining that perfect heat balance...all of that takes some serious brains!

But I bet this kid (who has more F entries on his report card than the city phone book) didn't really think that far.

What can I say? He's no toaster!

The Fan Club

This morning I arrived at school and was greeted with a distinct burning sensation as I entered my classroom. Fortunately for me, this was not the result of the spicy Ethiopian food I had chowed upon over the weekend, but rather the sudden blast of superheated air that smacked me in the face upon opening the door. No, this was not an itchy, burning sensation...this was the muggy delight of a kiln that is Underwood High School the last month of the school year. I'm not sure who the engineering genius was behind the building's design, but Underwood has a great deal of thermodynamic inertia. In other words, the building doesn't heat up quickly...but once the internal temperature rises, the classrooms retain their heat extremely well.

Yes, despite my assertion in last week's astronomy lesson that summer begins on June 21st in the Northern Hemisphere, my freshmen and juniors alike were stewing in their own juices, not to mention their belief that the school year is basically over. In fairness, they may be right. The two seniors in my chemistry classes are scheduled to take exams this week; freshmen have theirs starting next Monday. Once exams end, things get very, very interesting. The Powers That Be have provided an additional week following exams input grades and so forth, but the kids know better. Once final exams are completed, do they really have to come to school? And if they do...do they really have to learn? Do they really have to listen or pay attention? Why should this be any different than the rest of the year?

But there is a difference, and a serious one, in the form of school climate. And I'm not talking about the discipline issues, although there is a connection. I'm talking about the weather. Because let's be totally honest. When it's 90 degrees outside and the humidity is leaning just shy of thunderstorm territory, there is not a student in the world who wouldn't rather be doing something else. (And given how noisy and disruptive the kids got, hardly a teacher either!) Still, despite all the evidence to the contrary, Underwood is a school, and so the education process had to go on with as much normalcy as possible.

Never mind that the water fountains don't work and the few kids who do bring in water have a tendency to throw it on each other in the hallways. Just ignore the special education students roaming the hallways because their teachers are missing in action. And please, please, please disregard the announcements wasting class time explaining about how hot it is as if we were not perceptive enough to notice that we could fry eggs on floorboards. Just keep on teaching! Keep those standards high and those failure rates low! Damn the torpedoes and full speed ahead!

Some teachers make concessions to the weather, but other than propping open the classroom windows, I tend to make no other efforts. My students complain and cuss me out. They vent and sweat and curse and ask why I do not get an electric fan like their other teachers. I tell them that I have no fan and attempt to move on, but there is a deeper reason for the situation. I am a proud non-member of the "fan club." In the past, I have brought fans into my room, both my own and those provided by the school, and I have found that on every occasion they have caused more frustration than good. Consider, a fan, even a rotating one, can only blow air a certain distance and cover a certain area of the classroom. On a good day, I'd bet the fan could directly influence the comfort levels of 1/4 of a classroom if all the kids were sitting in their seats. But the kids will crowd around the fan. They will trade seats. They will push and fight to get to the fan. On past occasions, they even knocked down a fan! (Ol' Boxy's blades will never be whole again...)

So rather than deal with that crap throughout the day, I embrace the heat...student comfort be damned. I have no fans in every sense of the word. And as one might expect, my students have come up with creative coping mechanisms...like crowding near the classroom door which they insist stays open even though people keep popping in, saying hello, and acting like clowns. Or rushing to get to class first so they can slump by the windows and do nothing. Or my personal favorite, putting their heads down and just doing nothing. Granted, the last of these is not ideal, but if I can get a few of my more disruptive students to adopt this tactic so much the better. Unfortunately, this remians the second most popular coping technique, right behind cussing out the teacher. At top rage, they reach levels of creativity in their profanity that would make a marine drill sergeant blush. The combination of high volume and high heat leads to a work environment reminiscent of a foundry...only without the metal. Here we forge education...also in every sense of the word.

The cussing however doesn't bother me that much on a personal level. As stated in previous posts, I'm not in this job to be popular. No, my fear is that the students will be so caught up in the heat of the moment complaining about such things (pun retroactively intended) that they will completely ignore the last little nuggets of knowledge I am trying to cram into the final weeks, such that when the final exams come they will fail...again...and I will have nothing with which to entice them during the final days before summer.

Except my warmth and personal charm, of course, but we all know how well that's worked in the past...

A Game of Questions

Would you like to play the game of questions?
What did you say?
Do you think I'll fall for that again?
Whatever do you mean?
Didn't you plan to make me repeat myself?
Why would I ever do that?
Because you're a bastard.
Statement: 1-love. What were you babbling about?
Did I stutter?
Why don't we shift the topic to something more entertaining?
Like what?
How was work last week?
You mean I didn't tell you?
Tell me what?
Didn't I tell you about being the target of an ethnic slur?
Who was the target?
Who do you think?
Was it you?
Would I be telling you this story otherwise?
Was it you?
Repetition: One-all.
So what happened?
You know how I help at Underwood's homework zone?
You mean the after school homework program?
Haven't we discussed this before?
When would that be?
Must you distract from the main point of the conversation?
Why won't you just get to the point?
Did I say when this happened?
Was it last week?
When was the last half day?
Was it before that?
Does it matter?
Why won't you get to the point?!?
Repetition: Two-one
Was that really repetition?
Will you let me tell the story or not?
Won't you proceed?
So did you know very few kids do homework at the after-school homework program?
Why am I not surprised?
Must you be so cynical?
Aren't you normally the social critic?
Regardless of your comments, what do you think the kids do instead?
Don't they play games?
Do you know what kind of games?
Are they computer games?
Do kids have access to games on computers?
So what do they play instead?
Would you believe Uno?
You mean the card game?
What else could I mean?
How did this relate to ethnic slurs?
Would you believe the kids were bored with Uno?
How could they get bored with a dumbed-down version of Crazy eights?
How could they not?
So what did you do?
What would you have done in my place?
Did you provide an alternative?
Bingo!
Exclamation: Tie, Two-all. Game point.
Can you guess what game I taught them?
Did you teach them the game of questions?
How did you know?
Were they good at it?
What do you think?
Do they even know the difference between a question and a statement?
Shouldn't their English teachers explain such things?
Does it matter?
So how do you think the game ended up?
Did you win?
Who do you think won?
Were they frustrated after the first few rounds?
How would I know?
Well, how did they respond?
What would you do in their place?
Did they cry?
Would you cry?
Did they cuss you out?
Do you think cussing would really prove effective at riling me?
Aha...did they ask provocative questions?
So, did you finally start to make the connection?
So what did they ask you?
Would you believe comments on my appearance?
Such as?
"Why are your glasses crooked?"
Was that all?
"Why are you so ugly?"
You call that an insult?
How about "Why are you such a dirty Jew?"
What the hell?!?
Should I call the point on that rhetorical question and win the game?
Wouldn't that question you just asked also be rhetorical?
Why don't I just waive that call then?
So this kid actually called you a dirty Jew?
Why would I lie?
Do the students know you're Jewish?
Do you think I make a big deal about that?
Wouldn't that be a good way to build empathy with the students?
Are you joking?
About what?
We're talking about the same students, right? The ones who have interrupted class to ask me if I'm a Christian?
So what did you do after that unexpected encounter with anti-Semitism?
Can you imagine the temptation to take the kid to task?
So did you yell at him?
Do you enjoy poking beehives?
What do you mean?
Haven't you learned by now that any such yelling have only provoked a shouting match and made the situation worse?
So what else could you do?
Don't you realize yet how seriously I take the game of questions?
Are you telling me you kept playing?
And how do you think it ended?
You won the game cleanly, didn't you...without making one personal attack?
And then what happened?
Did you give the kid hell?
Well, have you ever heard of such tactics?
Chivalry aside, what did you tell the kid?
"Did you actually think you could get a rise out of me with an ethnic slur?"
And the kid's response?
Why was I so upset?
Any further ramifications or fallout?
Would you believe the kids are even more eager to play the game after the fact?
Are they allowed to use ethnic slurs?
Do you think I'll let that crap slide again?
So what happens if they do?
If they do what?
What happens if they use ethnic slurs in the course of the game?
Then they won't be coming to homework help sessions for a little while.
Statement!
Damn!
That's game, final score: 3-2. Care to play again?
What, right now?
If not now...when?
Maybe later?

Teacher Appreciation Week

This past week, for those of you were not aware, was Teacher Appreciation Week. This, as Tom Lehrer might say, is just one of many such weeks throughout the year honoring various worthy causes. The difference however, is that with Teacher Appreciation Week there was no advance notification, no advertising campaign, and no lasting ramifications. It's as though the students and administration at Underwood High suddenly looked around one day and realized there were these strange people in all of the classrooms trying to provide knowledge about various subjects.

"Who are these people?" they ask.
"They are known as teachers," a voice replies, "normally you are too busy doing your own thing to notice them."
"Teachers, eh? Interesting. You know...we're not too busy right now! Standardized test season just wrapped up and the school year is winding down. Maybe we should do something nice for them."
"Oh?" says the voice.
"Yeah..." say the staff and students. "We'll get them a pen or something. Something that will show them exactly how much they are appreciated."

And that, my dear readers, is exactly what the administration did. They got us pens. Some of us even got pens that worked! Of course, the administration is not stupid. They did not just limit their tokens of appreciation to writing utensils. We also got keychains! Other than those two little items and an announcement at the end of ninth period Wednesday and Thursday informing students how much they should appreciate us, nothing more really came of it. Since none of the students listen during ninth period announcements unless there is the possibility of a dress-down day, they did not pay the week particular heed. Except that one student in every class, the real pain in the ass, who interrupted the lesson to remind their instructor that they were appreciated. And if I were slightly less jaded then perhaps I would take such comments for their face value. But these are the same kids who regularly jabber about whether or not Jesus lived at the same time as the dinosaurs or how Charmin is the greatest brand of toilet paper while I am trying to teach them about plate tectonics.

Which is not to say that the students remained entirely idle during this week long celebration of educational excellence. Far from it! The student government rallied in full force, surveying several homerooms to ascertain once and for all who were the most appreciated teachers at the school. The list was distributed to all the homerooms and almost immediately generated controversy among the staff. This was strange, because if you were to ask, most teachers would probably have agreed that the folks who placed in the Top 10 Appreciated Teachers list generally deserved to be there. The teacher with thirty years perfect attendance, for example, or the the head of the drumline certainly merited inclusion, as did our AP history teacher. What struck most people as odd was the fact taht every teacher who had been nominated was listed...all 40+ candidates. Which was fine if you were among those 40. But what did they imply about the other half of the teaching staff who were not included, like our calculus teacher, the heads of the history, science, and math departments, or yours truly?

For my part, I consoled myself with the knowledge that I'm not in this for the popularity. The money, yes. The prestige, certainly. The popularity...no. But some teachers were downright offended that the advisor of student government (whose name, surprisingly enough was in the Top 10 Appreciated Teachers list) would be so unprofessional as to publish this ranking that claimed to be extoling the staff, but also apparently aimed at undermining the morale of at least half of it. People brought it up with the building rep and the whole thing was eventually quashed. And it would have disappeared completely. Except for me. I made it into a crossword puzzle for professional development on Friday. I could think of no better way to wrap up an otherwise miserable week.

Because I found the whole Teacher Appreciation Week concept to be a big joke. I still do. You administrators and students out there want to prove how much you appreciate a teacher? Don't give them trinkets or create artificial celebrations. Listen to what we have to say. Treat us with the respect and decency that we deserve. Do not swear at us (students) or lecture at us (administrators) as though we are completely out of it. Provide the support structures we need (administrators), the classroom culture we deserve (students), and the validation that we as professionals require to maintain any semblance of optimism in our jobs(both). And for the love of all that's sacred, please don't just limit it to a single week and if you must for some reason carry on with such a charade, at least make it an effective one...not a hollow shell like this one turned out to be.

Not that I'm complaining about my keychain though. It's actually pretty high quality.

Are you rapture ready?

My chemistry students recently received interim reports for the final marking period and since many of them bombed the group test I gave on stoichiometry, a number of them have approached me to get a more detailed explanation of their averages. In addition, especially among my honors students, parents and guardians have left phone messages "Re: Interims", and since I try to return phone calls within a day of receiving them, my days have become cluttered trying to answer grade-related questions.

This morning, for example, I decided to contact one of my students' aunts during my prep period. She was unavailable and the actual content of my voicemail was unexceptional. However, her voicemail message was unbelievable, so I include it here, as based on the hasty jottings I made on a 3 x 5 card during the call.

Hello. You've reached 555-555-5555. I am not available to take your call, but if you leave a message at the sound of the beep, I will get back to you as soon as possible. As you are waiting, please consider your eternal state. Ask Jesus to come into your life so you can have a place in Heaven. Be rapture ready and have a blessed day.

*BEEP*

Some thoughts:
1. Which is more important...making sure that I remember what I want to say on a voicemail message or contemplating my eternal state?
2. What is my eternal state? (Confusion? Denial? Frustration? Disbelief?) Maybe it's Kentucky.
3. What is our nation's current rapture readiness level? Is there a government office where I can check such things? I think we should have some sort of color-coded scale for rapture readiness. After all, the Apocalypse is coming. Just ask my students!

Headline: Megalomaniacal Space Aliens Unlock Magnetic Technologies!

From a recently submitted homework assignment on the nature of magnetism:




















Perhaps I should have picked a worksheet with slightly less bland illustration. Oh well...live and learn.