Slippery Possessions

My laptop was stolen today at school.  According to the police report that was filed, the theft occurred sometime between 12:15 and 1:06, which is during my 5th period.  

I'm full of mixed feelings.  My original thought was that someone was playing a joke on me and had hidden the laptop, and that at any moment someone was going to return it to me.  Then while I was teaching 6th period, I was pretty angry, and had a hard time focusing on what I was supposed to be teaching them.  And finally, by the end of the day, I realized that the computer was gone and the odds of me getting it back are about the same as getting all of my students completely ready for the CST by next week.  Not going to happen, but I'll sure keep trying my best.

Anyhow, I was able to rapidly go through those stages of grief.  I'm not totally familiar with them, but I know that disbelief, anger, and acceptance are all different stages of it.  After school I was talking with another teacher, and she asked me how I was feeling about it (her laptop also was stolen just over 2 months ago), and could completely empathize with how I was feeling.  I told her emotionally, I'm doing just fine.  She was taken a bit aback by that statement, and I told her that in the grand scheme of things - it's not that big of a deal.  It sucks, but I will easily survive this and move on.

At one point, I actually had to laugh about the situation, because I know what's going to happen when whoever stole my laptop turns it on. It's not going to work.

My laptop has been failing now for about three months, ever since one of my students dropped it on the floor as they threw my laptop bag out of my chair.  The computer presents a white screen with not visuals unless it is positioned EXACTLY correctly.  It is a position that I alone know, and I am certain that whoever turns that machine on for the first time will get the white screen, thus rendering the machine unusable.  And knowing the caliber of people who stole my machine, I'm sure the next stop for the machine will be the dumpster.  Suckers, joke's on you.  Even still, it was a wonderful machine and I was looking forward to many more months/years with it. 

Every time I've had something stolen over the past few years (which unfortunately seems to keep happening more and more as of late) I always think of this scripture - it seems fitting.

Blowing off Steam

3rd period ended 10 minutes ago.  We finished abouuuuuut 10 minutes of material?  Maybe?  In my 54 minute period.

I don't know what caused it (does anyone ever?) but I had two students who decided they were going to start fighting in the middle of the period.  I looked up, and all of a sudden they were just going at it.  So I rush to the back of the room, pull them apart, and try to maintain what semblance of control over the situation that I could muster.  After I finally get them apart, I call the office (busy, of course), the counseling center (no answer), their parents (1 disconnected, the other no answer) and then back to the office.  They finally answered this time, and they send down a security guard who pulls my students out of class, and takes their referrals to the office.  But of course, my class was all excited over what had just happened, and getting them to focus again was nearly impossible.  In fact, due to how excited they all were about the fight, I ended up having to write 3 more referrals to get specific students out of class.  If you count the one student I had removed before the fight began - that's 6 referrals in one period.  6.

Each referral takes about 2 minutes to write, which totals 12 minutes, and if you add the 10 minutes to sort out the fight itself, and the 5 minutes of trying to get a hold of SOMEBODY, that's already 27 minutes (1/2!) of my class.

And then to make matters better, one of the students left in the classroom tells me "This is why I hate this class - you spend so much time writing referrals, calling parents and giving warnings that we never get anything done."  In my head I'm thinking "I completely agree with you."

She continues to say "This is what you get for breaking that fight up."

Are you for real?  This is what I get for breaking the fight up? And the alternative is...?  Let them keep fighting?  These kids absolutely LIVE for the fight!  I don't understand it at all!  They LOVE it for some reason, and I KNOW that I'm going to hear about it all day, and kids are going to tell me that I should have let them keep fighting.  Maybe next time I'll just join in the fray - I sure feel like it right now.

Reality check.

Tomorrow is Wednesday.  Guess what I'm looking forward to?

Math Olympics

Today I started the CST Math Olympics with my students in 6th grade.  The purpose of the Olympics is to quickly cover a lot of the topics which we've discussed thus far into the year, and be able to hit them in a short amount of time.  I gave each of my students an "assignment", which was a personalized letter they each received that told them what team they were placed on for the next two weeks, or until the CST starts.

My first period class got really excited about the teams, and I built up the anticipation for the entire period, so by the time I actually gave them their letters, and they found out what teams they were on, I literally had some kids jumping around the room.  I haven't seen that kind of excitement in my classroom since, well, ever!  It was pretty fun to see.  Now I just really hope that I can maintain that level of enthusiasm as we move forward.

The purpose of the teams is so that the students have an organized structure in which to review the topics.  And because I know there are students in each of the groups who know some of the topics better than others, the idea is that these students can help those who perhaps haven't retained a topic quite as well, and assist them to improve.  It's a last ditch effort, but we'll see how it goes.  As the students are working in teams, I've told them that I'll randomly be collecting one paper from each group, so they need to ensure that each student has everything written down on each sheet, and has the correct answer.  If they don't, then they won't receive a "medal".  It's pretty entertaining to see them try and shuffle their papers in a way to make it so that the "best" paper gets on top.

Tomorrow I start with the 7th graders.  I'm much more skeptical about how effective it will be with them, because they're so much "cooler" and "more mature" and don't get so much into such childish things.  Although for being so mature, they were pretty easily beguiled today when I showed them a movie clip of some extreme skiing, and I was able to convince them that it was me doing the skiing...

The State of the State

My latest internet research shows the State of California ranking #47 on the best education list, with Vermont, Massachusetts and Connecticut topping out the #1, 2 and 3 spots respectively.  But California is #47.  Because I do enjoy math, I want to point out something to those of you who do not enjoy it quite so much.  47 is three away from 50, which is the number of states in the Union, and in this particular circumstance, 50 is the WORST position to be in.  California hasn't hit rock bottom yet, and I for one, am confident this is because of California's stringent teaching requirements.  Allow me to explain.

Three weeks ago I took a state required Technology and Education test.  If you know me, odds are that I have been your "go-to" guy for technology for some time.  At one point, I even endeavored on an entrepreneurial startup with Parky and founded Emagine IT.  IT stands for "Information TECHNOLOGY".  Due to my background in technology, I figured the test would be a no brainer, but as it turns out - I was no match for this test - I failed.  There were 8 sub-sections in the technology test; one of which was to create a gradebook in Excel for three students, weight four assignments, and show their scores in a percent.  Well, I have put together 6 year projected financials for start-up companies, navigated 140 megabyte excel data files which I parsed information using automated filters and macros, and exported to bake up immense Access databases from scratch. So I looked at this assignment and thought - "3 minutes, tops".  Begin timer.  2 minutes and 48 seconds later, I was printing out the assignment and turning it in.  Here are my results below:

Can you read the red writing?  I'll blow it up here, just in case you can't.

"Compute arithmetic averages to two decimal places".  I failed this test because I failed to compute my averages to two decimal places.  If I were to extrapolate this further, I could say that California's students are failing because teachers aren't being accurate enough in their grading.  I'd think if somehow the state could get past the idea that 89.99% is really A- work quality, their grades would overall go up, and reflect a little more highly on the state as a whole.  But California has standards.  They're not willing to compromise and let those precious percentage points slip away like their liberal east coast rivals of Vermont, Massachusetts and Connecticut.  Let them have their sloppy education system, but for California - let's keep our teachers honest!  

The retake is two weeks from now.  My only hope is that I can figure out how to get those last two pesky decimal points to show up between now and then.

Allergies and Law Suits

On Wednesday of this week, my students were taking a practice CST test for English/Language Arts.  I had my homeroom students, of which there were only 10 in my classroom.  As I was administering the test, they were being so amazingly well behaved that I decided that I wanted to reward them, and so I pulled some granola bars out of my cabinet.  I put them on the overhead at the front of the room, and told them that if they kept it up for 20 minutes, I had a "brain treat" for them.

They did amazing for another 20 minutes (there were only 10 minutes left in the class after that) and so they had earned the granola bars.  I had two different flavors - "Cookies and Cream" and "Peanut Butter".  I went up to each student and asked them "Cookies and Cream or Peanut Butter"?  Each student would then reply, and I'd give them their choice.

I went up to one particular student - Tamiya - and asked her the same question - "Cookies and Cream or Peanut Butter"?  She says Peanut Butter, I give her her bar and think nothing more of it.  About 5 minutes later, I hear Tamiya spitting something up and then she yells at me "WOAHN!  WHAT DOES THIS HAVE IN IT?!"  I look at her and quietly respond "Tamiya, look at the wrapper - it's Peanut Butter..."  And she yells back at me "I CAN'T EAT THIS - I'M ALLERGIC TO PEANUT BUTTER!"  Good grief.  In my head, I'm imagining a Hitch like experience with her head swelling up to the size of a basketball, her throat closing off, etc.  But at the same time I'm thinking "Are you for real?  I gave you the choice and clearly asked you which you'd prefer - and it's not like Peanut Butter SOUNDS like Cookies and Cream, does it?"  Do they?  I couldn't hear it, no matter how I distorted it.

Anyhow, she spits it out and then asks me if I have any more granola bars.  I didn't, because I just had enough for all of them to have one, and so I said no.  So then she proceeded to respond "Well, if I swell up, I'm going to suit you!" Right Tamiya.  As sweet as this particular young woman can be, she doesn't follow through on anything since I started teaching here.  I wasn't too worried.  But just in case... I had a class full of students who started laughing as soon as Tamiya said that she was allergic to Peanut Butter because - SHE HAD CHOSEN PEANUT BUTTER ON HER OWN!  And all my students knew it.

Thus far, my lawyers number remains silent.  Let's keep it that way.

Understandable

I'm not close to this or anything, but this article was an interesting read.  One that I understand about a million times more now than I would have before.

Don't cry

I went shopping today.  The bagger asked me if I wanted to put my milk in a bag.  I haven't really been asked this before, or if I have, I've never given the question serious thought.  One thing to know about me - I enjoy trying to figure out how to get all of my groceries into the apartment in a single trip.  With milk in gallon jugs, it's often a challenge because I can only carry two gallons of milk in one hand, and nothing else, while my other hand is completely inundated with about 80 bags with groceries in them.  But if my milk were in bags... well, then I could distribute the load a bit more.

So I said "Sure, why not?"  And it worked gloriously!  I carried the milk to my car without a hitch, my load was evenly distributed between my two hands, and it was great.  Then from the car to my apartment, again, awesome.  And then...

I open the door to my apartment, and the bag my milk is in decides to break.  The milk carton is only about 6 inches off the floor, but evidently it was enough to split the bottom part of the jug, and the carton heaved as milk chugged out and air was sucked in.  As the liquid began to seep underneath the fridge, I paused momentarily as I thought about the series of events that led to these circumstances.  Convenience, simplicity, efficiency.  Yeah, well, I guess it's not worth crying over...

Back to Reality

For the last week, I've been blissfully lounging at home in the great state of Utah. I've said it before, and I shan't be ashamed to repeat it, but I thought as a student (not at BYU, of course) I looked forward to Spring Break. Well, it's nothing compared to how much I now looked forward to it as an educator.

It had been 12 weeks since Winter Vacation, and in those 12 weeks, my time off included 2 scheduled holidays, 2 field trips, about 10 unplanned, unscheduled, unannounced school events/short days for whatever reason, and 1 personal sanity day. Spring Break is literally a blessing for educators - they truly deserve it, and I understand that now like I never did before.

And now as the fantasy that was Spring Break comes to an end, I look forward with anticipation for the next 9 weeks. 9 weeks in which the all that I and my students have been working towards finally comes to a climax. 9 weeks in which there are no breaks, no prisoners, and no survivors. We are in this for the long haul people, so it's time to buckle down and get psyched for the roller coaster ahead. There are 15 school days separating now from California State Testing at my school. There are 15 days to somehow remind my students of all the material that we've been learning over the past 7 months, and that indeed at one point in the year, yes, we did actually cover this stuff. There 15 days to cover any of the last minute state standards that I feel my students can master, and yet, there are 15 more days for me to contemplate on how I am going to do this differently next year.

I feel badly for my students, because I don't think I was all the math teacher that they needed this year. But then again, I have to constantly remind myself that at some point, all teachers have to have that first year experience, and as hard as that might be to accept the fact that somewhere, students are having to be the guinea pigs for that year, there is a teacher that has to consciously deal with the fact that they are undeserving their students in a way that only they can fully realize. So I thank my students for their patience with me, and can only hold to my resolve that indeed, things will be much different next year.

Back to Spring Break -it was a dream, in more than one way. I spent some great time with the family, had some fun with my friends, and met some awesome new faces. I stayed at home, ate home cooking, and slept in the bed I grew up in. Sure, it's about 6 inches too short for me, but I actually slept in it - which is more than I can sometimes say for my home in San Francisco.

My apartment is on the bottom floor of my apartment complex, and I literally share a wall with the room where the trash bins are for the entire complex. When people toss out a particularly large haul, I can feel the reverberations of it in my apartment. And it's not that the walls are thin, because I don't hear anything else in the complex, it's just that the bins are REALLY loud. So that's pretty cool, because I'm like the unspoken trash bin monitor. If there's ever any funny business going on in there, I'm going to be all over it. But this isn't the only benefit...

Every Monday/Wednesday/Friday of the week, at precisely 6:00 am, I hear the gate to our parking complex rattle open. I can hear the chain working to slide the gate along the squeaky steel guides as the gate lumbers open to give entrance to a gluttonous beast. Its engine growls lowly as it lumbers down the drive to the parking lot, and then let's shriek an ear piercing *BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEP* as it pulls into the room where the trash bins are. This noisy fiend clumsily latches onto the bins individually, and then shakes the life (or garbage) out of them as it empties the bins into its fat belly. The entire process takes less than 5 minutes, but the garbage truck is 100% impeccable on its timing, and it's 100% irritating. Particularly so on Monday's, as it stands as a physical notification that the weekend is officially over, and it's time to get back to work.

Tomorrow morning when that truck arrives, it's not just Monday, but it means that the dream that was Spring Break has officially ended.

T-minus 10.5 hours until reality hits.