Uh Oh, Spaghetti-O's

It was PTA night which meant a very late night for the 6th grade teachers and no dinner. My stomach was growling, my feet were pounding, and I was irritated by having to stand in the hallway keeping 60 kids quiet. We had all the students gather in the classrooms and after a few last minute announcements about adjustments to the program, I cued up a science video. We had sent a trusty student to relay the message we needed only 5 minutes to get the students in line before our turn in the program. Almost immediately after the start of the video, word was sent for us to line up. We flew down the hall in two perfectly quiet and straight lines. All of a sudden we came to a stop as the music teacher greeted us and said, "Well, they aren't quite ready for us." We couldn't allow the students to talk because we were right outside the meeting. There was no air circulating in the hall and students were growing impatient by the minute. I was even getting a bad case of the grumps.

Finally, the line started moving and the students enthusiasm for performing spread like a contagion through the line. The students quickly found their places on the risers and I was blinded by the Paparazzi Parents, but somehow found my seat. The music began and the voices of children boomed. Tears filled my eyes at such a sight of sweet children singing their hearts out to their proud parents. They did such a fabulous job.

After the students finished performing, Family Math Night began. I sat on the back table sandwiched between two math teachers. We were handed a set of dominoes. None of us felt like playing, but I opened the package anyway and challenged the two of them to a game. We were making so much noise over our game, the assistant principal of the school came over and joined us. All of a sudden we heard a loud thud behind the assistant principal. She bent over and scooped up a crying toddler with a bloody nose. The mom came rushing over and we all headed to the school clinic. I grabbed some gloves and tissues and went to work. Fortunately, I had EMT training and bloody noses was my second nature. The assistant principal handed me an ice pack and the baby started to settle down in his mother's arms. The mother was so grateful for my help and I was thankful God put me in the right place at the right time.

When I returned to the cafeteria, there were only a few people cleaning up and I realized my purse was locked inside my portable building in the back of the school by a dark parking lot. I spotted a policeman still in the cafeteria and he agreed to escort me to my room. When I turned on the lights he said, "Wow! What do you teach?" He loved my tropical room and said, "I would love to be a kid in your room."

At the beginning of every school year I pray for God to use me to serve Him. My empty stomach and my pounding feet got in the way of remembering what a passion I have for teaching children. It took a little boy's, "Uh oh, spaghetti-o's" and a policeman on the night watch to remind me of that. Jesus was a teacher and so am I. I can't think of a greater profession in which to belong and serve Him.

Attitude...I am or Yes Ma'am

Nothing is more irrating to me than to hear a child tell me, "I am," after telling him to do some simple task. I am the adult and he is the child. There was one particular boy that had a terrible attitude in my class. He seemed to enjoy being the entertainer in class. If he would spend half his efforts on science class rather than pulling all his antics, he might have a chance at passing class.

I was circulating around the room looking over papers and answering questions. I rounded the corner to Dennis' desk when he looked up, "What?" I shook my head from side to side and put my finger to my lips, "Shhh!" I looked in his hand and saw one of my special pencils half broken in his hand and said, "Keep working." I turned my back to him to continue down the row and I heard something fly past me and sail into the bookshelf. I turned around and a little girl was picking up the broken pencil. "Dennis?" I said in a drawn out fashion. "What?" he said, "It wasn't me." Did he really think I wasn't going to notice the pencil he had had in his hand was clear across the room? "Well, Dennis, do you remember what kids who threw things in 4th grade would have to do when they threw things in my room?" He looked up with big eyes, "Uh no, I never threw anything back then." I positioned myself close to his chair and whispered in his ear, "They got the opportunity to clean everything off the ground in my classroom until I was no longer irritated by the situation. Guess what? I'm pretty irritated and I think I'm probably going to be irritated tomorrow. So, get up and take care of the floor." I walked off and started helping other students. I eventually glanced back and Dennis was still sitting in his desk. I said, "Dennis, you need to get started." He answered me, "I am!" I learned years ago not to get in a tug of war with students. However, I also learned that students that had no respect simply needed an attitude adjustment. I fell in love with a poem by Charles Swindoll about attitude. The poem ends with 'Life is 10% what happens to me and 90% how I react to it.' My students also knew what assignment Dennis was about to be given and all eyes were focused on him anticipating the eruption. I said, "Uh oh! Wrong answer, Mister. The computer desk has paper, pencil, and the "Attitude" poem ready for you. When you finish copying it, you can reflect on it while you clean the floor." The class returned to quietly working.

I don't know what it is about kids, but they will always test your limits just to check. He knew what was expected of him and he knew he wouldn't get away with slinging a pencil across the room. After school Dennis made a point to come by where I was standing during after school dismissal to tell me goodbye and have a good day. I smiled and said, "I'll see you tomorrow and I'm becoming a little less irritated." He looked back and grinned from ear to ear as he ran to catch up with his friends.

I Told You So

Nothing is more enlightening to a teacher than Parent Conference Day. The common phrase I have heard throughout the years about kids and parents was, "That nut didn't fall far from the tree."

Jerry had already served 2 straight weeks of after school detentions and I was anxious to talk to his parents about his behavior. I had high hopes of sharing with them how each of Jerry's teachers had tried numerous strategies to get their child to turn the behavior around. Even still, despite our best efforst Jerry got in trouble just about everywhere he went. He had been in trouble on the school bus, art class, music class, P. E., the cafeteria and our 6th grade classrooms. The only place he didn't get in trouble was the boys' bathroom, but even that was becoming questionable after numerous urinals started overflowing after his visits.

After weeks and weeks of teachers communicating both the good and bad through the daily agenda MOOSE, I was especially anticipating with a hesitant eagerness to talk strategy with his parents. Mr. and Mrs. Cleaver walked in and looked like the typical all-American parents. I thought to myself, "This might really work out and starting tomorrow, we might just have a much better day after his parents hear what all he has been up to." All of those thoughts quickly vanished when Mr. Cleaver said, "Tell me why you have been keeping my child after school when he clearly hasn't done anything wrong. He tells me you can't prove anything he has done." I think my mouth dropped to the floor. Trying to recover I fumbled to speak, "What?" Seriously? The child had terrorized the art teacher and had gotten written up by a bus driver that normally didn't turn in names to the office. I calmly searched their faces thinking at any moment these parents would tell me, "April Fools" or something.

I tried to talk about the good characteristics their child displayed, although lately it was hard for me to find a positive to build on. With every agenda item I attempted to describe all the things we were trying to do to help their child, but instead I could hardly get a word in edge-wise on how I needed to try their strategies to get things under control. I finally shook my head and said, "No. Absolutely not. That is not how I operate my classroom and this is exactly what has been going on to help your child." As soon as I became forceful in the conversation, I was amazed at how the parents finally got quiet enough to hear what I was saying. I finally laid it out on the table outlining what we've tried, what hadn't worked, and where we were headed (to the office) if Jerry's behavior didn't improve. I think the Cleavers had been convinced by Jerry that no one at school liked him. As soon as the Cleavers learned that it wasn't a contest as to whether or not we liked him or not, they started listening. We all liked Jerry, but his behavior and choices he was making needed to change. By the end of the parent conference, I was being told how I was their child's favorite teacher.

Parents are really no different than mama bears. If they think they are cornered and their baby bear is threatened, they come out fighting. Parents just need to know that as a teacher, I care about their child just as much as they do. After they understand that, the rest of the conference is a piece of cake.

Rescue Ranger

After a six weeks of spending a great deal of time focusing on safety in the home and safety in the lab, I was excited to hear that something I taught actually sunk in to the brain. During the weekend some of my students were playing ball and it rolled into the street. Barney ran to go get the ball. Felix said, "He looked both ways before he crossed the street, but you know, there's no saying about 'look both ways on the way back across the street and that's what got him."

"Oh my goodness," I said, "what happened to Barney." Felix said, "He was fine on the way across the street, but he didn't look on the way back and a car hit him. I carried him to Frankie's house." Frankie interjected, "I thought they were playing, but that's when I saw his leg and said, 'whoa dude.' I asked, "What did you do?" Frankie and Felix started talking at the same time, but Frankie loudly said, "I knew to just pick up the phone and call 9-1-1." "Wait a minute," I said, "you dialed for help? What made you decide to do that?" Frankie said, "Because that's all I've heard you talk about since school started." I thought to myself, "Wow! He really was listening in between his weird remarks and sleeping in class." Most kids hear about calling 9-1-1, but many of them don't call for fear they shouldn't bother the emergency services. As an EMT, I've seen first hand where the call was delayed due to people being cautious about making the call. I have preached to my students, "give the guys something to do...they are bored and they just live for the sirens to go off." Of all the kids to call for help, I wouldn't have been betting on Frankie. "Did the accident happen right outside of your house," I asked. That was when Feliex couldn't hold it any longer, "No! I threw Barney over my shoulder and ran to Frankie's house." My mouth dropped open. "Why did you move him?" Felix said, "No one was around and the car had left, so I knew he needed help." He continued, "The cops came and so did the ambulance. The cops took me to go get Barney's parents and then the ambulance left for the hospital. He is messed up." I asked, "Is Barney okay?" Felix said, "Oh yes, but he's not coming to school for a couple of weeks because he's in a body cast. The cops kept saying I was a hero, but really I just did what he would do for me. The cops took me to my house and my mom thought I was in trouble, but then she was glad." I said, "I guess she was. You certainly did the right thing. You are a hero. You are both heroes for doing the right thing." I certainly am glad they were listening in science class to dial 9-1-1 and let the police or fire departments decide if it's serious or not.

I just love my "try-harders" class. They surprise me just about everyday!

Heads Down Thumbs Up

It was the perfect class with my "try-harders" class. They worked hard and we finished the review for the 6-weeks exam in record time. They even out-performed my Pre-Advanced Placement Science class. They were quietly focused on the task at hand. Even though I had created a Science Review in a computer game format of Jeopardy, the "try-harders" were totally engaged in the activity.

It was a Friday afternoon and I sensed that they were "done". They had given me all they could and had been as good as they could possibly be for as long as they could. I announced, "Heads down, thumbs up!" They complied quickly by hiding their eyes and putting up their thumbs. I scurried about and pushed down four thumbs. I said, "Heads up, stand up" which indicated to the chosen few to stand up and guess who selected them. I called on the first child and said, "Okay, who picked you?" She looked at me and then looked around the room so puzzled and shyly said, "You?" I said, "Correct!" I called on the second child and said, "Who picked you?" The child laughed and said, "Uh, You!" I laughed and said, "Correct." Then we played a few rounds of "Heads Down, Thumbs Up." When we were just about out of time at the end of the period, I ran around the room when all of the heads were down and selected everyone. No one figured out that there were too many people standing up for the game instead of the four kids who should have been selected. I chuckled and said, "Surprise, it's time to change classes!" Class had flown by and the students couldn't believe it was time to go.

I love being a teacher especially when I get to be a kid and play, too. I especially loved hearing, "I can't believe we have to leave Science class."

My Gummi Bear Needs CPR

During the gummi bear lab, students were to measure and weigh their bears. We were studying about density. I had put a gummi bear in a clear plastic cup and labelled it "control." Unfortunately, somebody ate the control bear. "Oh dear," I said, "we are never to eat anything in the science lab." All of the fingers pointed to Eddie who quickly objected, "It wasn't me! It wasn't me!" I put another gummi bear back in the cup for our control bear.

The day before students wrote down their calculations of their bears and then we put them in clear plastic cups containing water. The students hypothesized about what would happen to the bears. I was thinking students would write about the bears weighing more because they would absorb the water. Some students thought their bear would weigh less because it would dissolve. One group wrote, "We hypothesize that our gummi bear is going to drown." On day 2 they wrote, "We were right. Our bear drowned and now he is decomposing. He has lost his legs."

Another student, Howie, said, "This is so unfair." I went over to his table and he was picking out little pieces of his bear in the water. Some bears just dissolved faster than others. He said, "Man! This is just wrong. My bear is obliterated." I had to laugh.

"Boys and Girls, at first our gummi bears sunk to the bottom. The bears were very dense. On day 2 our bears floated and were buoyant. And our control bear..." I turned to show the cup and noticed the bear was gone again. I looked at Eddie and he raised both hands up, "It wasn't me." I looked over at another group of students that were busily working together. Then I overheard them trying to do fake CPR on their bear. I had to laugh. I had all of the students put their cups back on the shelf and then started again. I just love my 4th rotation of science students. They are so funny. They are a challenge to keep on task and stay focused on the learning objective. I think it's because they have been quiet and focused in all their other classes and when they finally hit science, their last core subject of the day, they just can't help themselves anymore.

It's Great to be the Queen of Science

I was on recess duty today and I asked Samantha, "Did you draw the reading teacher a picture and leave it on her door?" Samantha was a little girl I have watched grow up since she was in first grade at our school. She has captured the hearts of every teacher in our school. Samantha has struggled to learn her letters, numbers, or how to read. Despite our best efforts we are puzzled why Samantha has had such a hard time learning. Even still, she perseveres and tries hard every day. I will be in the middle of teaching and Samantha will get up out of her chair for no apparent reason and give me a hug. When she was in first grade she looked up at her teacher and said, "You're the queen. I'm the princess. Princess Samantha," she would say. The reading teacher had come up to me earlier in the day and showed me a crayon-colored picture that was shoved in the cracks in her door. It was a picture of the teacher holding the hands of a student. Both of the figures had crowns on their heads. I said, "Aren't you Samantha's reading teacher?" She shook her head and I knew she had been deemed Queen for the Day.

"Samantha," I said, "was that a picture of the reading teacher being queen?" Samantha smiled and said, "Yes, she's the queen and I'm the princess." I said, "I thought I was the queen. I'm even wearing a shirt that says 'Her Highness' on it." Samantha's little mind started scrambling for what to do, because she didn't want to hurt my feelings. I let her off the hook quickly, "Am I the Queen of Science?" A huge smile spread across her face, "That's right! You're the Queen of Science and she's the Queen of Reading." I said, "And you ARE the princess!"

The Pebble and the Boulder Day 2

The out of control freight train I had in my class from the previous day yielded a student in the office for the day. I really felt sorry for Eddie, but his behavior from the previous day earned him a serious consequence. However, if we didn't offer a serious intervention for this child, the boulder was certain to drop again. The sixth grade team of teachers consulted the administration on what to do and together we started chipping away at Eddie's boulder. We had the school counselor talk with him to get whatever "it" was off his chest. We got Eddie a mentor he could check in with each day, but most importantly we got him away from the boulder throwers. In offering him a move from his current homeroom to my homeroom, he was given a contract for him to uphold his end of the bargain. We needed him to work as hard as we were working for him.

Every child counts and every child is important. It's not about running away from problems as much as it is running toward a solution. I talked to my homeroom about welcoming our new student in our classroom and how everyone needs a fresh start. I had volunteers of students wanting to sit by him to help him get settled in. I had certain students assigned to be recess buddies and others assigned to be lunch buddies. I knew Eddie was emotionally fatigued from being bruised by the boulder throwers, so I had his buddies guard the situation. I said, "Take a break today and let your buddies take care of anything negative said to you. They are going to take care of you for awhile." Eddie said, "I can handle it." I said, "Oh! I know you can, but today your circle of friends have got it covered. You just need to relax and focus on school. Take a break from all that other stuff."

Eddie was given a class job. All of my students have jobs to teach them responsibility. Eddie was in charge of the morning lunch count and getting each student to sign it. Actually, it's a big task because I check and verify the attendance and get absentee make-up work together for missing kids.

Eddie's first day in class went great. He was perfectly behaved and looked as if the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders. At the end of the day I was able to stamp his MOOSE with "Great Job" because he had followed all the expectations.

Eddie had a new circle of friends taking care of him. By the team of educators sending Eddie the message of "not being successful is simply not an option" and by removing his barriers, he was a totally different child. Sometimes we just need a "do over" in life.

Note: The homeroom teacher he had previously is very compassionate and tried everything she could to overcome the adverse conversations of a couple of students. It was like watching two beta fish in the same tank. They are both beautiful fish, but they shouldn't be in the same environment with each other.

Disclaimer: The names of all my blogs have been changed to protect the innocent children. The names used are my favorite TV characters of my youth.

The Pebble and the Boulder Day 1

(Disclaimer: The names of all children in all of my blogs have been changed to protect the innocent (or guilty) children. I have used the TV characters from shows of my youth.)

Eddie showed up on the second day of school without an adult to enroll him. He simply showed up. On his first day in sixth grade it was obvious we had a little boy crying out for help. He got in trouble everywhere he went. During the first week of school we focus on the positives of each child and complimenting students doing the right thing, but Eddie had me baffled. I had to go straight to, "This is not going to fly, mister!" I explained to him about our after school intervention we had available for anyone having five infractions in a week. It was as if he was shooting up flares saying, "sign me up, because I want to stay." He didn't have any school supplies, so we quickly gave him the supplies he needed. On his next day at school I noticed he was wearing the same clothes from the day before. Most kids come to school during the first week wearing a brand new outfit and sporting a new hairdo. Eddie came to school looking like his hair hadn't been cut all summer and wearing clothes that looked like he had slept in them.

By the third week of school Eddie had escalated his efforts to stay in trouble. I noticed him trying to be "bad to the bone", but he really had a good heart. So what exactly was his story? I I started noticing his short fuse with two specific boys in his class. I pulled Eddie aside and told him the story of the "Pebble and the Boulder".

"Eddie, you seem like a pretty tough boy. If Richie threw a pebble at you, would you be hurt?" I asked. Eddie replied with a strong no. "If Richie and his friend threw a pebble at you for an entire week, would you be hurt?" He replied, "Well, not really." I said, "Well, you might have a bruise, but you're a tough kid, so of course you wouldn't be hurt. So, what if the entire 6th grade threw a pebble at you? Would that hurt?" He thought for moment and I knew he was wanting to be tough and tell me how much he couldn't be hurt, but he replied, "Yeah, that would probably hurt." I said, "It would probably do more to hurt your heart than anything else, but what if Richie threw a boulder at you....would that hurt? Of course it would. You know, Eddie, you are probably one of the toughest kids in sixth grade. Why are you letting Richie throw boulders at you and have power over you? You have the power to say, "whatever dude" and walk away. Everytime you try to have a "comeback" Richie scores a point and the boulder scores a direct hit on you. I can see you can't take it anymore, so what are we going to do about it? I can't move you any further away from him in my room. I need you to do your very best to ignore him. Dude, just press the mute button on your remote control and don't listen to what he's selling. You have the power to turn him off. And Eddie, I know you have gotten to "After School Intervention" as fast as you possibly could, so be ready to have a serious plan for change. Be thinking about it because you are not leaving my room without a better plan for success."

About that time the whistle blew signaling the end of recess and Eddie was headed to lunch. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. I knew he was on a short fuse with Richie.

Later in the afternoon it was time for my last rotation of science for the day. Eddie stormed through my room like a runaway freight train. He started screaming, "Richie called me gay." I pulled Eddie aside and said, "That was so mean of him to say that." I shook my head from side to side and said, "That is a big problem and I'm going to do something about it. Right now I have a full lesson planned for class, so you try not to worry about it. We will get to the bottom of this soon."

I started teaching the demonstration lab. I had plans of plotting on a line graph different chemical changes. Each reaction had different timing with the last demonstration being an eruption of green slime. I was just beginning the first eruption when Eddie exploded instead. Evidently Richie was mouthing mean things to Eddie and he was ready to fight. I tried to calm him down but he continued to yell. Despite my best efforts, Eddie had to go to the office. Eddie got crushed by the boulder. It didn't hurt him physically, but his heart took a blow he could no longer handle.

I went home mentally and physically exhausted. I felt like the situation was a tremendous boulder on me. It was really hard for me to leave my emotions at school. I went to bed early thinking about what could be done to help Eddie.

The Fifth

I do my best to remind children of the expectations, but sometimes despite my best efforts there has to be something done. Bert, a student I had taught previously in 4th grade, was a well-known frequent offender of the expectations. So far this year, he had done a great job of turning around his behavior with just a few reminders.

It had been an unusual week of interruptions, and Bert had been racking up the numbers in his daily MOOSE agenda book. On Thursday afternoon I had pulled him aside and said, "Little Dude, you've got 4 numbers in your MOOSE. If you get one more, you'll have to stay after school next week. Let's not have that happen, okay?" We talked for a few minutes about listening for the cues of "boys and girls...." or "okay guys, listen up."

I greeted Bert first thing in the morning and reminded him again of our conversation. During the afternoon silent reading time, Bert just couldn't help himself and his impuslivity took over. I reminded all the students to get quiet and start reading. Bert put one finger up signaling to me that he wasn't quite finished talking. I gave him a personal invitation/warning, "Bert, it's time for silent reading." He got quiet and I thought he was going to make it until he started up one more conversation.

Bert and Ernie, bring me your MOOSE. Bert quickly produced his MOOSE for me to fill out his final number earning an after school time with me for the next week. Ernie threw himself into the floor and began wailing. I thought I had missed something. I didn't remember Ernie having that many numbers, but I knew Bert earned a big consequence. "What on earth is the matter with you, Ernie?" I asked. Ernie tried to answer me, but by that time snot was coming out of his nose and he was talking like someone that had a bumblebee in his mouth. "Well, just hand over the MOOSE then." I looked in his MOOSE and he was receiving his first MOOSE number for the week. "What's the deal Ernie?" My mom said she's sending me to military school. "Really? One mistake and she's shipping you off?"

I turned to Bert and asked him what he was talking about that was so urgent. "I was wondering what military school was like."

At the end of the day Bert's little brother came to my room to hook up with him to walk home. Bert greeted him with a high five. I said, "You sure are a great big brother." He smiled. His brother said, "He certainly is."

This kid might be a little mess at times, but he and his little brother just warmed my heart. It reminded me of having a big brother and sister walk me home in the afternoon from school. I know I was the mess at Ridgecrest Elementary, but I wonder if I was a "cute little mess."

Elephant Toothpaste

The day started out with our school hosting Strong Dads. I vaguely remembered it being on the schedule, but I had completely forgotten. Nevertheless, I had arrived early to school to set up some lab experiments. It was a rainy, muggy, drizzly morning and I struggled to get all of the experiment items out of my car and not spill my Starbucks coffee. I remembered about the Strong Dads program about the time two dads walked in my room. "Oh my goodness," I thought to myself, "are they in for a shock!"

After attendance, lunch count, announcements, etc. I was off and running ready to 'wow' my kiddos. My students really didn't seem to grasp why line charts are so cool with documenting science. They also didn't seem to understand chemical changes and properties. What better way to explain both at the same time than to just explode something! I passed out safety goggles and established a safety zone. The dads seemed to be concerned when I put on the goggles myself and the figured out they weren't just for "SHOW".

The first experiment was for a slow reaction of warm yeast blowing up a balloon on a water bottle. The next experiment was to demonstrate a moderate reaction of vinegar and baking soda blowing up a balloon. The final experiment was the "Big Bang" theory of a rapid chemical reaction. We made green "Elephant Toothpaste" and green bubbles were flying all over the desks. I know I was a kid on Christmas morning, and the dads were impressed.

I love teaching science! I'm so glad the Dads came to school today. We don't get to explode stuff everyday, but today was well worth the trip to school!

Doing the Right Thing--Man Up!!

One of my sweet little girls new to my school brought a treasured book to school. I could tell her family thought about every dollar they spent, so a book bought from the spring book fair was certainly a prized possession. The book captured the attention of two boys. It was a Pokemon book and was one of the coolest books I had seen. It had activities, drawing lessons on how to create the characters, comic strips and more. One of the boys grabbed the book and the other boy decided he would get it back for her. Pretty soon I had World War III over the book and pages went flying. By the time I got over to the commotion, the book cover was in shreds. I am the type of teacher that a broken ruler or pencil will yield the student a good "talking to", but a torn up book just devastates me. I love books as much as I love bouncy balls. Books are adventures of the imagination and vacations from real life.

I pulled the two boys outside and gave them the opportunity to briefly tell me what happened. "You know guys," I began after a few words from each of them, "I saw this beautiful book this morning and now I hold something that is destroyed. What are you two going to do to make this right?" They looked at each other shocked that I hadn't started out with the normal, "Who did this and who is at fault?" I just cut right to the chase and skipped the entire judge and jury sytem and declared them guilty in the punishment phase. One boy looked into my eyes and then looked at the other boy and said, "If I put in five bucks, can you put in the other five bucks for the book?" I was so impressed with this child's character ready to pay restitution. Both boys had interesting behaviors on the porch. One boy was ready to step-up quickly and do the right thing and the other boy was quiet and hesitant.

After school I talked with both boys' parents. I found it very interesting that one boy's parent was ready to pay right then, and the other boy's parent was hesitant and quiet about the situation.

What are we teaching our own children in our own home? Our children really will model the behaviors they are taught at home. I have heard the phrase many times from teachers, "Well, the apple certainly didn't fall far from the tree." Parents really are partners with their child's education. I can move a stalled car by myself. I just can move that car a lot farther and a lot faster with some help.

Oozing Brains

After a long day of taking a standardized test, my class had brain matter oozing out everywhere. I noticed an excessive amount of snot and a fascination with tissues to kill time in between tests. The pencil sharpener took a hit with every yellow #2 pencil having been sharpened into toothpicks. I knew better than to try to teach a new concept...my kids were not in the mood for learning. Unfortunately, we still had time left in our day.

Thank goodness for the Fire Prevention Posters. Each year students make a poster about Fire Safety and the halls are adorned with the artwork in October during National Fire Safety Week. One little girl turned to me and said, "I can't draw. Do I have to be in the contest?"

It reminded me of the time when my parents were having friends over for dinner. Dinner was taking a little longer than normal and my mom needed a distraction to stall for dinner. "Young lady," she said, "Go play our guests something on the piano." I argued, "Aw, Mom. Do I hafta?" I started drawing imaginary circles with my foot tracing lines on the floor and twisting side to side. I remember being in a dress with my saddle oxfords on and my hair in ponytails which were undoubtedly falling down by then. Even still, my mom insisted. I protested one last time, "But Mom, I can't play the piano!" She stretched out her arm and pointed toward the piano, "Then you march right in there and SHOW them you can't play!"

I certainly understood this little girl's feelings. I had had many art lessons in my younger day, and excelled only at stick figure drawings after years of lessons. However, every child was expected to display a poster. I whispered in her ear, "Then think outside the box and write a message, but have the letters blazing on fire with smoke." After a hug of encouragement, she was off to give it a try.

Sometimes it just takes someone insisting you give it a try to reveal your true talent.

Physical Change

I had to teach about physical change, chemical change, and their properties. Well that's just boring! I bet each class I could make a 4 x 6 index card pass over them by using physical change. "In fact," I said, "I bet I can pass it over two kids in this class." I explained that I would make the card encircle both students. Each class took the bet. I bet a dollar in one class, a jacket in another class, a cool pencil in another class, etc. I caught their interest and went on with the lesson explaining the differences of each item. I folded the index card and used a zigzag cut. By making a physical change to the paper, I created a "necklace" that was large enough to fit over two students. I never ever "collected" the goods from the shocked students. I took advantage of the teachable moment about how gambling was definitely against the school district rules, so I certainly wasn't going to take their treasures.

The biggest reward for me was when my little "try-harder" class gave me a standing ovation at the end of class. I have noticed what a physical change this class has undergone. It was once a class of lots of "interrupters" and "off-taskers", but the more times they have come to my class, the more they are trying harder. We are having less major problems in class and are actually getting more accomplished with each class.

I have noticed I have gone through a physical change with this class as well. A class that used to drain my energy at the end of a day has actually recharged my batteries.

Stuck in Science

I was in the middle of science class talking about when to use bar graphs, line graphs and pie charts when this sixth grade boy consistently was misbehaving. I can't stand to teach the back of a kid's head. I used every behavior management technique I could think of, but nothing was working with Ricky. I was having to stay put giving extra attention to the child in a wheelchair and a little girl that needed a bunch of extra help. Normally, I would have kept teaching and walked over to the kid's desk, but I simply needed to be the hands for the child in the wheelchair. I was in the middle of giving instructions when I saw Ricky tugging his arm. My room has some interesting furniture built out of cardboard tubing. Everyone wants to sit in these chairs and kids of all ages are simply fascinated by them. The Destination Imagination team from a couple of years ago built them as props entirely out of cardboard. They are sturdy enough for an adult to stand on. Ricky thrust his hand inside the tubing and got stuck. He finally stood up to get his hand free. It's one of those times that you just have to laugh. I laughed so hard I almost cried. The funny thing is that I'm certain he is destined to be a future President.

Sometimes life is like cardboard tubing. You just have to go through the tunnel just to investigate. In the end, you have to stand-up and refocus.

Disclaimer: The names of children have been changed to my favorite TV characters from my youth.

Not Me

Note: The names have been changed to my favorite TV characters from my youth to protect the innocent (or guilty) children.

It was my turn for recess duty and Barney Fife came running up to me. "Look! I've got a gecko." He was holding it in one hand and the poor thing was peering his head out of the clenched hands. I think Barney was trying to scare me, but instead I reached my hand out and said, "Poor thing. He looks scared and hungry." Barney unclenched his hands for me to take the lizard. Unfortunately, the lizard didn't trust me and went running toward Barney's pants pocket. He grabbed it in the knick of time right before the lizard darted down his pants and I said, "Let's put him in the grass, so he can find shelter." About that time the lizard flew out of his hand and was headed toward the grass on his own. Everything would have been fine, but Curious George just had to take a closer look at him and went to grab him. George squeezed a little too tightly and the lizard's eyeball squished out. About that time the rest of the herd of sixth graders came running up to see what treasure had been encircled. Let's just say we had to have a playground burial of our first victim of recess.

All went well for the rest of recess until the whistle blew. Rambo came running up to me hollaring, "Barney and I just got pelted with rocks." I looked toward the direction from whence the commotion had happened and lo and behold, there was Fred and Ricky acting innocent. Ricky had the audacity to thrust his shoulders forward and gesture with his hands, "What! It wasn't me." I motioned for them to come to me, however, natural consequences were beginning to happen because by that time the rest of the line of sixth graders were headed inside for lunch. I finally determined with a lot of effort of interrogating the group that Fred, Ricky, and another boy were throwing rocks. They were trying to see if they could get the rocks to land on the roof on top of our tall gymnasium. It seems that Fred and Ricky didn't have much of an arm on them because their rocks ricocheted off the side of the building and hit Barney and Rambo in the back of the head. OR, did it really happen that way afterall? God loves teachers. Barney and Rambo had terrorized the art teacher the day before. Isn't it interesting that two pebbles ended up hitting the back of two heads that just maybe needed some sense knocked into them?

Disclaimer: No one was seriously injured in the telling of this story. Neither boy wanted ice or complained of a knot on their head. However, we did lose a lizard...may he rest in peace.

When You Don't Think They are Looking

I knew it was about to happen, but I still jumped out of my body. The deafening sudden buzz of the fire alarm went off. My students had practiced and after the initial shock of what seemed to be percussion grenades going off in my room, we all came to our senses and scurried into drill formation for our first official fire drill of the year. My students "walked with a purpose" down the ramp and the door and lights were taken care of swiftly by some very responsible students. When I reached the bottom of the ramp, I saw the lead student from the classroom next to me on a head-on collision course with another outbound class of sixth graders. It seemed like a game of "chicken" when I hollered, "We turn left. Go left!" Fortunately she made the turn at the last possible moment and we were off in two side by side lines headed to the white top of the playground. All of the sixth grade classes arrived and stood precisely with feet pointed straight and shoulders facing front. I was amazed that in under two minutes the entire group had evacuated the building and were standing in ABC order. I noticed the alarm continued to sound and the administrators were outside the building as well. I thought, "I wonder if the building is REALLY on fire?" A few moments later, the alarm was silenced and we were motioned back to class.

Later I took my students on a restroom break. One of my little "talkers" tugged on me, "Hey, that's my sister in the purple shirt." About that time I turned and saw this sweet little girl come out of the jungle room in third grade. She was trying to juggle her binder, water bottle, and bag of grapes. Her big brother stepped out of line and helped her get situated. It just made me smile all over to watch him help her.

During lunch, the first grade teacher came over to me and said, "Look at all my guys mesmerized by the 6th graders." I looked over to see such great role models in line and the little eyes looking up to them. At the end of lunch, we take all the classes to the restroom. One of my kids pulled me aside and said, "Thanks for the shirt." This was a rough and tough boy that had a reputation for getting into trouble all over the building. I was amazed to hear how grateful he was. A few minutes later I had to get onto him for making an aggressive move, and another teacher took up his cell phone he shouldn't have had, but hey, he had such wonderful manners for a few moments. Maybe we can pull more moments like that one out of him.

On the way back from lunch a swarm of yellow jackets decided to hang out around my portable door. We had to walk in the front of another class going on to take an alternate route inside my room. The teacher commented on how each child walked through without any issues. The overhead was on and I secretly held my breath expecting some little shadow animals to appear, but they walked through without any interruptions.

The more the day went on, the more I saw my students learning and displaying such wonderful behavior. There were a couple of students that gave me a couple of challenges, but for the most part, they had listened. They were in their routine and on a day that was already cut short with minor interruptions, I was still able to get everything taught. When the final dismissal bell rang, there was a little boy that came up to me, the one I had commented to a colleague earlier "he is standing on my very last nerve,"...he said, "I'm sorry for all the talking. I'll try to do better tomorrow." Wow! What a great day!

Do you want to know how to make someone a thief? Tell him, "You're a thief, you're a thief, you're a thief." Eventually, he will be a thief. If you want to make a child good and achieve more, tell them how good they are, how important they are." They will never let you down.

Grandpa V.'s Legacy

"I am blessed," the grandfather of our school would say as he would give free hugs to anyone for the taking. He was known by many names, but the halls would frequently ring out with children going to help "Grandpa V." as he was affectionately called with his letters and numbers. He was our oldest kindergartner at the age of 97 and had been in kindergarten for over 30 years at our school. He would arrive early to school to take down all the chairs in the kindergarten wing. After the 88 chairs were down, he would start helping the kindergarten teachers in any task needed. I watched him cut out 90 giant toothbrushes during the Dental unit, and I saw him hang 90 Fire Prevention posters in the hall. After the announcements and Pledge of Allegiance he would have kindergartners in each hand and several following close behind to go down the hall to "help" Grandpa V. learn his letters.

At the age of 97, Grandpa V. volunteered over 1000 hours a year. In his lifetime at our school he easily chalked up over 30,000 hours. I remember one time I had slipped on some spilt milk in the cafeteria and needed to go have an x-ray. He volunteered to drive me to the hospital. Normally I would have accepted the ride, but I had seen Grandpa V. drive and it resembled that of my teenage son at times. He might have been in an old body, but he was very much young at heart. When he was in the hospital after having a heart attack, I told him I had tried out for the school Talent Show. He had me sing to him my act. He was "rockin'" out to the music in his hospital bed. After visiting with him, I was the one that felt better.

There was a time I nominated him for a state award. I was working with our Communications Director on describing how important Grandpa V. was to our school. I was grasping for words when I saw Grandpa V. running past my window with a kindergartner holding his hand. After his 90th birthday, Grandpa V. could still be found going down the slide on the playground. His broken hip only slowed him down slightly because he had to depend on a walker.

When flu season broke out, he still insisted on showing up to school. There were many times his attendance at school exceeded the teachers' attendance. He was a part of our faculty and a part of our family. We always included him in faculty lunches. He made it a point to show up to school board meetings each year to advocate for teacher salary raises.

Anytime anyone would ask Grandpa V., "How are you doing today?" He would always respond, "I am blessed." In June after Grandpa V. had seen the school talent show, and after the last student had dropped by his house behind the school to get him to sign their yearbook, he was "promoted to glory." I had the honor of being able to hold his hand as went into Heaven.

I especially missed Grandpa V. today. There were a couple of guys in my 6th grade class that just needed a grandpa today. Also, I know there's a couple of kindergartners that could really benefit from his help. I really miss seeing him in our hallways, but more than anything, I miss his hugs. He would give me a hug that would often come at the end of "one of those days" and I would tell him, "Oh Grandpa V., thank you so much!" He would smile and say, "Oh no, thank you. I am so blessed."

We should all be so lucky to have a Grandpa V. around us. Our lives are forever changed for the better having known him. As a reminder of his committment and dedication to education, on the back of our faculty ID badges, we have a his picture with the inscription, "I am blessed because I knew Grandpa V."

Testing for Safety

On Friday, I finally gave my students their first test, "Lab Safety." We had spent a great deal of time on safety. I drilled the students on when to use goggles, a fire extinguisher, and a fire blanket. Before the test I quizzed the students, "If the teacher somehow is on fire, you would use the....." and I paused to let the students fill in the answer. Every single class was going to put me out with the fire extinguisher. Well, the correct answer would be to use a fire blanket in this instant AFTER stop, drop and roll, but my students knew that we didn't have a fire blanket. SO, we had to have a side lesson on if we had every safety equipment apparatus in our room that we could ever use, we would choose the fire blanket to put out a human and not go with the chemicals. I just hope I never catch myself on fire, because I'm simply too old to stop, drop, and roll and I certainly don't want to be chased by 22 students armed with a fire extinguisher.

While grading the tests, I allowed a bonus question on the back and I was eager to see the answer. "If the teacher calls for a "Safety Freeze", what should you do?" The answer is to use common sense and then freeze. The common sense would be used to get out of the way of danger and then freeze. I wouldn't want a student to freeze when a boiling substance was headed right toward him, or freeze near something on fire. We don't really have drastic things going on in our science lab, but I definitely want my kiddos prepared for the unexpected. I'm sure my elementary teacher wasn't expecting me to experiment with a magnifying glass and sunlight coming through the window, but sure enough, I ignited paper in my desk. When working with students, I know that anything is possible. I was ecstatic to find everyone got that one right. I also discovered lots of flowers, cartoon animals, and "My Science Teacher Rocks!" notes all over their papers. With each new paper I graded, I discovered a personalized note. I made the mistake on writing a personalized note on the first test I graded, so I felt obliged to continue writing on each paper. Needless to say, the test took me an exorbidant amount of time to grade, but each of my students have a personalized note back from me. I love teaching my 6th grade scientists.

Change

During the first week of school I discovered one little detail had been forgotten when planning for our new students--bathroom breaks! The team of 6th grade teachers decided I would take every science rotation to the bathroom as a group. The only problem was that I had forgotten to do this. During the second week of school I wrote bathroom breaks into my lesson plans to try to avoid the urgency of dancing up and down tail waggers.

During third period my standard first three boys and first three girls went into the bathroom and the others lined up outside to await their turn. I noticed one of my boys allowing others to go in front of him. I checked my watch and discovered we were late for changing classes. I hollared in the bathrooms and said, "We're leaving!" I joke with colleagues that some teachers' classes are all in quiet, perfect straight lines in the hall, but not my class--especially when we are running late. We go through the hall with wild eyes, hands waving, and one big mob. I had no choice but to "walk with a purpose" leaving a few little lambs in the bathroom. Quickly apologizing to the math teacher, I did my best to hurry up the children and do a quick head count telling her who we were still missing.

One little boy appeared at the top of the steps at the door to the school building on his way out to my portable in slow motion. I hollared, "Hurry up, Little Dude!" My next rotation of students had already taken their seats and were copying down the MOOSE assignment. I noticed the little boy had his hand in his pocket. "Come on, Little Dude, run, run, run!" He kept coming with his hand in his pocket. When he went by me he jingled all the way to his desk and back out of my room. "Little Dude," I said, "What do you have in your pocket?" He said, "Just a bit of change." I had to laugh because I noticed every pocket of his cargo pants was bulging with coins. I think if he would have run, he would have spilled.

My last rotation of the day was filled with my "try-harders." Many of them don't bring back their MOOSE signed. I really feel many of them don't have the luxury of a parent watching over them to guide them. By the time they reach science class, their little brains are about to explode. Many of them come to school without supplies, homework, signatures, or clean clothes. There are many times I offer a few extra shirts and they are scooped up like treasures. This little class has the strugglers and many of them already feel like they just don't count. To me, they count even more. When they don't have a pencil, I try to not just give them the standard yellow #2 pencil, but rather a cool, fuzzy one. It's amazing how willing they are to write for me when they have a cool pencil. My little guy from the third rotation had lots of pockets with lots of change, but my 4th rotation had pockets with holes. When kids repeatedly come with ripped shirt, I tuck a couple of shirts into their backpacks. It's amazing how much grades improve when students that "have none" can look like the students that "have alot". These little guys are only 11 or 12 years old. I don't want them to have the message "I'm not good enough." For years I have taken donations from a local clothing store to our district PTA clothes closet. However, even despite the encouragement of our nurse, many families won't take advantage of this resource. If the horse won't go to the water, then I'll just bring the water to the horse. They might not be the brightest crayons in the box, but they are still in the box and contribute to the rainbow. I didn't sign on to be a teacher to just teach the smart kids or the ones that could afford supplies and nice clothes. I signed on to be the best teacher I could be to ALL kids.

Explosion in the Lab

After a week of teaching lab safety and having students and parents sign a safety contract, it was time for our very first lab. All week we had talked about using a fire extinguisher for flames. For whatever reason, my students from the previous year always chose a fire blanket over any other safety equipment on the six-weeks exams. I even said, "Boys and Girls, Do we even have a fire blanket?" My favorite answer from a child was, "What is a fire blanket anyway?" I asked, "Thank Goodness! Someone who didn't answer fire blanket. Honey, what did you choose for an answer." The kid said, "Oh, I put down the fire blanket." ARGH! So, this year I was especially determined my students would be prepared and not answer fire blanket unless they absolutely had to do so.

After demonstrating the procedures at each station, I allowed the students to choose their own lab partners and get started. Every student put on their safety goggles and the girls and boys with long hair pulled their hair into ponytails. It took some convincing to get the boys to get their hair up, but it was either "my way or the highway" on this issue.

I was at station three since it had boiling water. Turning 6th graders loose in a lab with boiling water would have been a HUGE mistake. The lab was working perfectly with whisper voices, science vocabulary words being used, and procedures being followed. I had just said to myself, maybe this was a good lesson to have right after Curriculum Night afterall. I actually had the rare treat of being seated giving my swollen feet a chance to rest. After the students at my station had measured and recorded room temperature water, and ice water, I prepared the boiling water. I explained the safety procedures of where to stand and that I would be performing the measurement of the water. This was their turn to merely observe. I no sooner placed the boiling water in a coffee mug on the desk and somehow a student knocked over the cup. I never saw the kid touch the cup, but in a blink of an eye there was boiling water on the desk. Call it 24 years of teaching experience or call it the mom experience, but I knew to have paper towels ready to cover a spill. All of a sudden a student started hollaring, "She used the fire blanket! She used the fire blanket!" Oh brother! "Boys and Girls," I said loudly and drawn out, "we have a fire extinguisher, goggles, and the "heat resistant gloves" or oven mitts as the girls called it in our lab. We don't have a fire blanket. Do you hear me? No, fire blanket!" "Wow!" a student exclaimed while pointing at me, "Looks like we had an explosion in the lab afterall." I had to laugh. Was there safety equipment for an exploding teacher?

Meet 'Em, Greet 'Em, Meet 'Em Again, and Again

During Thursday of inservice week my school held an open house where parents and students could find out their teacher. Students could bring their school supplies and unload their goods into their desks. The open house was held in the evening after school hours. During the second week of school we held a "Curriculum Night." This meeting was held to tell the parents about new school policies, and listen to teachers talk about class procedures. During this meeting parents were encouraged to sign-up for teacher-parent conferences to be held three weeks later. In two weeks the school will hold a PTA meeting at night in which teachers are highly encouraged to attend.

It was 8:45 PM when I finally ushered the last parent out the door. I had been on my feet non-stop since arriving at school at 7:30 AM. I'm really curious what occupation has their salaried employees work 13 hour days without the benefit of a "flex" or "comp" day. I don't know of a school that offers this arrangement to teachers. I really do "get it" about the need for parents to have access to teachers. I always attended my children's school events. I really appreciated the long hours the teachers put in, because I was in their same boat.

When I arrived home, my daughter and husband had tried making "spirit overalls" in which I had insisted they not start until I was home. My daughter was determined to start without me and I did my best to give directions. Even still, they had spent hours cutting out patterns and letters, but had missed a vital step. Prior to cutting out the shapes, the "wonder under" should have been ironed to the fabric. After eating dinner which consisted of a quick bowl of cereal, I was finally able to take off my teacher hat and be a mother. We started the project over from scratch. Shortly after midnight the project was half completed, but we all called it a night anyway.

My feet hurt, my eyes are weary, and in 6 hours I will awake to be a motivating teacher. Why did I plan a science experiment tomorrow with several stations? I'm not sure my feet can handle it. After school I will look forward to a 2 hour training for science teachers. I really like the science trainings because I usually get to be a kid and investigate all kinds of experiments. However, the family has been instructed once again to eat without me.

I know this is all part of the job, but it's hard with the time demands to strike a balance between family and work. The old saying of the best part of being a teacher is "June, July and August" really only boils down to a few weeks. The rest of the summer is heavily scheduled with trainings, curriculum writing, or building summer inservice.

Although I wouldn't trade my job for anything in the world, it's tough when the job entails putting other kids in front of my own. My daughter needed me to be home tonight. The time I missed with her was time I simply won't get back. Hopefully, I can figure out how to have the best of both worlds, but a night like tonight makes it pretty hard on my heart.

Damaged Goods?

I love teaching. I think I was born to teach. However, I think I still hold the record for being the worst behaved student at Ridgecrest Elementary School. I remember being paddled in music class AND by my second grade teacher. This really didn't change my behavior. I excelled at third grade with a very understanding teacher that understood my creativity and curiosity. She knew when I had the wiggles to put me to work cleaning and organizing. Even still, there were years and years of spending time in the principal's office. I would walk in and he would automatically dial my parents' phone numbers from memory. I was a "Tomboy" and loved doing anything possible to get the boys to chase me at recess. I would hit the boys, kick them or give them a karate chop and flip them over my back just to get their attention. I remember one time the teacher said, "I'm going to paddle the next person that talks." The boy sitting behind me took the opportunity to pull my pony tail. Without the opportunity to explain myself I was sent to the hall. I wasn't about to be paddled, so I simply ran out the back of the school and ran all the way home. My plan worked perfectly because I got home and started watching television. The only problem was the principal came and got me. My parents had the rule that if you got paddled at school you got it twice as bad at home. I don't remember being spanked very often at home, but I do remember being grounded all the time. So, why was I so bad? I was really over-active and had good intentions. I was curious. I remember bringing a magnifying glass to school to see if the sunlight coming through the window and passing through the glass could ignite paper. My 4th grade teacher wasn't amused when smoke was coming out of my desk. My teachers would have a heart attack if they only knew I became a teacher.

Last week I heard about how horrible some of my students were in previous grades. Call it old age or call it bad memory, but I don't remember these children being horrible when I taught them 2 years ago. Some of them had some personal issues, but they really weren't horrible. Some of the students (actually a bunch of them) were behind in school, but they weren't really just damaged goods. I refused to write them off then and I have vowed not to listen to the negative comments now. These are children that belong to somebody's parent. That parent really did send me their best child and it's up to me to make them better. The parents aren't keeping the good kids at home and sending me the bad kids. It's up to me to turn it around.

On the third day of school we had a child just show up without a parent to register the child (to keep the child anonymous I will not reveal any detail including gender about the child, so please forgive the monotony.) He/she was finally assigned to a homeroom and began rotating with his/her class. The child got in trouble in every class he/she went to. I was determined to find out what was going on. Typically children are on their best behavior on their first day of a new school, so why was this child acting out? I found out this little child had more issues in his/her life that most adults wouldn't be able to handle. The next time he/she was in my class I had the opportunity to pull the child aside. I made sure all the issues I could help him/her with like money for the MOOSE notebook, school supplies, and even clothing were taken care of for him. All of a sudden there was a different child in my classroom. I told this child there were adults at school that could help him/her with the problems. Today I noticed the child walking in the hall in a different direction from where he/she should have been and found out he/she went to go have a conversation with someone about the issues. A child just needs an advocate. A child needs to know what it is he/she is doing right and how to improve. Every child really does want the positive attention, but when they can't get the positives needed from an adult, they will seek out the attention in anyway possible. I call it the firework display of emotions. Sometimes the fireworks are beautiful and sometimes you get the duds that misfire. In the end, all you care about seeing is the beautiful finale of all the colors that finally come together.

In the grocery store fruit department, the damaged fruit is tossed to the trash. The bruised bananas are discarded and no one gives them a second glance. In my classroom, if a child is damaged, they aren't discarded. I'll love them, encourage them, scold them when needed, but they are anything but discarded. Damaged goods? I don't think so. I wouldn't even put my students on "clearance." Afterall, their parents sent me their best child. It's up to me to make them even better.

Probably Need a Rule

This school year has been a huge change over the previous year. Our school has only three rules, but really they are expectations of what each child should do. Everything was going well and it seemed like everything was falling into place until cafeteria duty. I noticed a student not feeling well. His color, his lack of appetite, and lack of energy were tell-tale signs of an obvious problem. He had already visited the school nurse, but with no fever present, the child was sent back to class. After lunch the sick child would be in my science class. At the end of the table a child was mixing his food into a soupy mixture of applesauce, mashed potatoes and chocolate milk. The thought crossed my mind to move the sick child near the gross concoction to encourage projectile......if the child threw up, he would remain in the clinic. Of course I would never subject a child to that and I ordered the "gourmet chef" to throw away his concoction.

A short time later I was in the middle of teaching when I noticed the sick child growing increasingly pale. "I think he's gonna hurl," the kid across from him hollared. I quickly grabbed the trashcan and placed it beside his desk.

"Boys and girls, I know we are trying to have only three rules this year," I said. I was quickly corrected, "Don't ya mean expectations?" "Okay, we have three expectations, but I think we need to have a new rule," I said. The same student interrupted, "Don't ya mean expectation?" I was growing impatient by the minute. "NO, I think this is definitely going to be a RULE!" I turned and gave my little interrupter the big eyes. My body language definitely said, "Don't even think about talking again for the rest of your life or until the end of class." "Boys and girls, if you are going to be sick..." Another student inserted, "Like your gonna hurl." And then it became a contest exploding around the room on how many ways and interpretations being "sick" could be named. (Vomit comet, blow chunks, upchuck, blow beads) I finally defined "sick" as any state of matter (solid, liquid, or gas) that had previously been in one's body and was rapidly on the way out of said body. "Boys and girls, if you are going to get sick, do NOT get sick on the carpet. It is the most difficult to clean. So, run for the door and hurl onto the grass. If I try to stop you from leaving the room, just go. Trust me, I'll figure it out real quick. And by all means, stay away from my desk." After 24 years of teaching, I have had multiple times my desk was the target of a sick child.

The new rule came just in time. It wasn't the sick kid I had identified in the cafeteria. It was the asthmatic. Let's just say the grass outside my portable took one for the team.

A School with NO Rules

Our school had a bunch of rules last year. This year we threw away the rules. That's right. We are offically a school without rules. One would think children were running a muck, but that is not the case inside our school. We put all of the responsibility on the children. In our school we have three behavior expectations for kindergarten through 6th grade. Rule #1: I come to school ready to learn and to allow others to learn. Rule #2: I am responsible for my own learning. Rule #3: I will show respect through my actions and words. It has been working well so far, but what do we do when we have parents breaking the rules? Visitors to the building are supposed to enter through the front doors and do all business in the office which includes signing in and getting a badge. It's pretty funny when a parent is caught red-handed going on a covert operation to deliver a lunch to their child in a classroom while avoiding the office. It's equally interesting in the afternoon at dismissal when all common sense seems to cease as parents wave their children across traffic to get in the car just to avoid the carpool line. Equally disturbing to me are cars going the wrong way on a one way street....to accomplish what exactly? One would think by the wild parent drivers that dismissal took hours and hours of sitting in seemingly endless lines to pick up a child after school. One would envision parents having to pack a canteen and a backpack of snacks to endure the waiting. Our precision dismissal procedures deliver each child to awaiting cars within 12 minutes. If parents would actually just be patient and follow the rules, I bet it would be less than that. Parents, slow down and take a moment to watch for our children. Is it really worth the three minutes saved to break the rules?

I question, "Can I put the parents in after school detention?"

Day 3 Tardy or not tardy?

After having such issues with turning in my attendance on time yesterday, I could hardly sleep worrying about whether the computer version of attendance would really work. Armed with my Starbucks coffee and a bottle of Tums, I entered my classroom and turned on the computer in preparation for the day. By 8:15 AM I had taken attendance for my class and had no problems from my computer. We had only one student absent and the electronic version of attendance worked with flying colors. I was in the swing of my science lesson when there was a knock at the door. I opened it to find my student with a tardy slip in hand. I read the reason for tardy "bus situation." Surely this sweet student of mine wasn't involved in a fight on the bus on the third morning of school, so I felt the need to inquire about this.

"What bus situation did you have?" I said. He looked into my eyes and said, "I wound up at the high school." Usually I am known as the compassionate teacher, the consoling one, or even the cheerleader, but I started laughing. I asked him, "So when exactly did you determine you were on the wrong bus?' He answered, "When I got to the high school, I figured it out." Well that certainly didn't help curtail my laughing because at that point I became hysterical with tears streaming down my face. My poor student went to high school and sat in the office until another bus picked him up and gave him a ride to the correct school. I went next door to my teaching partner to ask, "So...he's no longer absent, but is he really tardy? He was at school on time...just not the right school!" I went to my desk and got my fluffy rolling teacher chair. I said to the kid, "Anyone that starts their day like you did AND makes me laugh that hard gets to sit in the teacher chair." He smiled and we continued with class.

So, my attendance was on time, but the absent student was tardy or not really tardy. Because of all of this, does that make my attendance tardy again? That is a question for another day.

Day 2---Why? why? WHY?

Today is all about the "why?" On day two the science lesson was setting up the student science notebook and composition book. All of my fellow 6th grade teachers across the district were supposedly teaching the same lesson at the exact same time. When I was going through my lesson plans, it never dawned on me that only a handful of the 80 students would actually have the science composition book. Why would that be? It was never put on the district supply list! The students and parents didn't know to buy it. ARGH!!!!

In elementary school a teacher must be at certain places at exact certain times. Everything and I mean everything runs with honed precision down to the exact minute. This morning after calling roll and all of my children were present, I sent my attendance to the office. My classroom is outside in an old surplus WWII barracks. The outside of my building is a dull Army brown, but inside my room has been transformed into a tropical paradise. Even still, with today's "stranger danger" times, we keep our doors locked and students travel in pairs with my building key to go inside. A trip to the office is a big ordeal. My two Helpers of the Day took my attendance, well actually one would travel to the office with the attendance and the other helper would return to my room with the key. Please...they are 6th graders with a key to Ft. Knox, I mean the building, so I don't let them go very far. Several minutes later my helper returned from the long trek to the office holding my attendance in hand. "Why are you back with that?" I asked half-heartedly, "Did the office get moved from yesterday?" It was around 9:28-ish and the attendance MUST be in the office by 10:00 AM. My little helper shyly said, "You have to turn it in at 10:00 AM." I'm sure the expression of disappointment on my face showed, because this sweet little helper gave me a hug and said, "It's going to be okay." Why on Earth would my attendance not be accepted 32 minutes early? ALL of my students were present. Were more of my already 100% in attendance going to show up? Why could I not turn in my attendance? A student rescued me by handing me my Starbucks cup of Joe. Thank goodness! All is right with the world again. While changing classes at 10:28, my teacher intern came up to me and said, "I think it's past time to get your roll turned in." I knew it! I just knew it!!!! My attendance was now past due and undoubtedly I would be scolded for being tardy. I'm not sure what the punishment is for a tardy teacher's attendance...detention?

The next surprise came at recess when we found out the office decided to move the kindergarten and first grade lunches back 10 minutes. Now this might not seem like a big deal, but if no one had bothered to tell the 6th grade teachers, we would have entered the cafeteria to find little kindergartners still occupying our sixth grade seats. I have learned not to stand between a hungry 6th grader and his food. It's like a hungry bear going through a vacationer's car. The cafeteria ended up being backed up 10 minutes the entire day.

While my students were at Fine Arts time, I had a few minutes to race through some e-mails. I discovered that attendance would be done electronically starting in the morning. Why am I not overly excited about this news? In order for attendance to happen in the morning, I would need to follow a few short steps to set-up my Teacher Attendance Center. Let's get something straight. Anytime anyone says technology will only take a few minutes can immediately be translated to hours and hours of frustration. By this time in the afternoon my Starbucks is long gone and the effects are waning. Three hours of frustration, two e-mails and two colleagues later, I'm all set for tomorrow's attendance. At least my computer won't tell me "You're too early!"

I have only one question to ask, "Why is tomorrow only Wednesday?"

First Day of School

It was 2:00 AM when I last checked the clock anticipating the start of school. I don't know if it was nerves, eagerness, anticipation, or just dreading the end of a perfect summer. I knew it would definitely be a Starbucks morning. One Venti Vanilla Latte with some Half & Half and I would be ready for just about anything. I arrived in the parking lot at 7:20 AM and already a sea of ants were swarming the school. The Paparazzi Parents were in full swing with bug-eyed children in tow. It was a mix of divas and independents. The divas had the perfect hair, the outfit that matched the backpack, and the sparkling school supplies. The independents just showed up. These are the ones I especially felt sorry for because their parents hadn't purchased their school supplies and they were wearing the same clothes they were wearing yesterday or the day before that. However, they were smiling....they were ALL smiling! I wasn't officially on the clock and yet by 7:30 AM my entire class was present and ready to roll. I had only managed a sip of my Starbucks and so was operating at BC..."before coffee" mode. Fortunately I had been blessed with two teacher interns this year. Fortunately, I knew every student by name because I taught them when they were 4th graders. The students and parents already knew what to expect from me. I had been deemed the "fun teacher" that was strict. I'm still wondering how one can be strict and fun at the same time. All in all, I had a great day, but my feet hurt and exhaustion from lack of sleep are at the forefront of my mind. This is certainly going to be an interesting year.