I had a 1st grade class a couple weeks ago. Those are always fun. You get a wide variety of kids in that age bracket who say and do some adorable and unintentionally hilarious things. And sometimes they're not so adorable or hilarious. Sometimes, its a good mixture, such as this case:
The Good
I had had this class before for 2 days, so I was a little familiar with how the class ran and who the kids were, which is always a plus. Most kids are still learning to sit on their bottoms and raise their hands and walk in line, but this class as a whole wasn't too bad (besides the one girl who I had to tell 3 times in 2 minutes to face forward in line because the line kept leaving without her).
Speaking of walking in line, usually whenever I see 2 students walking next to each other, I inform one that he or she is "next to the line, not in the line." In one instance, however, I saw two 1st grade boys standing next to each other holding hands. I almost said something but then I saw how ridiculously, amazingly, unbelievably cute it was, and I let it slide. I had a brief thought that I could kidnap the two and raise them as my own twin sons because of how adorable the pair was. I quickly talked myself out of it because I would probably be fired, and it might be slightly suspicious if I, a single black man, all of a sudden had white twin boys that looked nothing alike.
The Bad
For every pair that I want to adopt, there's that one who I want to give back to his parents ASAP. In this class, it was Cliff*. The very last thing on my lesson plans told me, "Cliff can be a handfull. Keep an eye on him." And, oh my man, was Cliff a handfull. After the bajillionth time of telling him to stay in his seat, get to work, stay focused, etc., he tells me that he forgot to take his brown pill. Oh, boy. I call the nurse to see if they have extra "brown pills" on hand (I don't really know what the law is concerning that kind of thing) and they tell me that they'll call Grandma to see if she can bring some and they'll call when she gets here, kthanksbye.
Cliff asked me several times throughout the day if the nurse had called back yet. I assured him that he wasn't the only one who wanted him to take his pill and that id let him know immediately.
On a side note, I was able to pull him away from the rest of the class and explain to him that he wasn't in trouble. I just wanted to make sure he wasn't distracting the other students. He seemed to understand and cooperate.
The Ugly
Every once in a while, there's a real special case that I just can't handle. In this case, it was Gilbert. At this school, they provide breakfast in the classroom. I had to choose some students to take the empty crate back to the cafeteria. Gilbert asked if he could do it, but he had another classroom job, so I chose other people. Gilbert was not okay with this. He started crying. And wouldn't stop. I feel like I'm pretty alright when it comes to calming crying children, but he was inconsolible. No matter what I said, he just kept crying. And loudly. The other students kept asking, "Why is Gilbert crying," to which I responded, "Don't worry about him. Let's get back to work."
How long could he sit and cry over something so trivial? I can't answer how long he could, but I can tell you how long he did: almost an hour. When it came time for us to take a spelling test, I told him he either needed to stop or he'd have to leave the classroom because he was too distracting.
I eventually called the office because he was not moving from his seat. One of the office ladies actually had to pick him up and carry him to the office (making this the second, but not last, time a child had to be carried out on my watch). I got a call from the office not too long after saying that the poor darling was going home. I obviously couldn't have known that he would react like that, otherwise I would have let him take the breakfast crate back, but I felt sorry that he felt so upset over it (I'm assuming there are probably deeper issues however).
Class dismissed
Wednesday, December 11, 2013
Monday, October 21, 2013
I hope you get suspended
Now, I don't normally think that way towards students. Detention, yeah, but suspension's kinda harsh. It means the student isn't in their seats for at least a whole day. It means they're not learning. As a teacher, I want kids to learn. But sometimes, the offense is just too severe for a slap on the wrist and the kid needs to learn that their behavior is horribly out of line.
Like Sonya*. She was part of my drama class today. I was uber excited to sub for a drama class, since that class held my heart (and my after school time) when I was in high school. Well, these kids were something else. I don't know what happened between me saying, "Practice your monologues," and the words reaching their ears, but I guess it ended up sounding like, "Play around, text, don't do anything that you're supposed to be doing."
In this playing around, Sonya got the bright idea that she should tell another student that she doesn't belong in this country because she (the other student) is black. As a black man myself, and, ya know, a decent human being, I let her know that this was not an appropriate way to talk to anyone. At any time. Ever. To which she responded, "She was rude to me, I'm going to be rude back."
I let her know, "No matter how rude she was to you, you do not talk to people like that. You can leave right now and go talk to the principal."
"I don't have to go anywhere."
"Fine, I'll call the office, then."
"You do that."
So, security had to come to my classroom today. It always amazes me how little thought goes into people's attitudes when they get like this. Sonya couldn't possibly have thought, "Y know, I'm gonna say something nasty, talk back to the teacher like I have the right to do whatever the crap I want, then have security come and whisk me away to the office instead of going on my own accord. This will certainly end well for me." It's amazing to me how much can be prevented if people actually thought through their actions rather than letting the spark that their tongues ignite grow into a mighty, terrible forest fire.
I'm nit sure if Sonya got suspended, but I sure hope that she did so she can learn that her terrible actions come with a terrible consequence.
Class (thankfully) dismissed!
*Names have been changed to protect the identities of the students
Like Sonya*. She was part of my drama class today. I was uber excited to sub for a drama class, since that class held my heart (and my after school time) when I was in high school. Well, these kids were something else. I don't know what happened between me saying, "Practice your monologues," and the words reaching their ears, but I guess it ended up sounding like, "Play around, text, don't do anything that you're supposed to be doing."
In this playing around, Sonya got the bright idea that she should tell another student that she doesn't belong in this country because she (the other student) is black. As a black man myself, and, ya know, a decent human being, I let her know that this was not an appropriate way to talk to anyone. At any time. Ever. To which she responded, "She was rude to me, I'm going to be rude back."
I let her know, "No matter how rude she was to you, you do not talk to people like that. You can leave right now and go talk to the principal."
"I don't have to go anywhere."
"Fine, I'll call the office, then."
"You do that."
So, security had to come to my classroom today. It always amazes me how little thought goes into people's attitudes when they get like this. Sonya couldn't possibly have thought, "Y know, I'm gonna say something nasty, talk back to the teacher like I have the right to do whatever the crap I want, then have security come and whisk me away to the office instead of going on my own accord. This will certainly end well for me." It's amazing to me how much can be prevented if people actually thought through their actions rather than letting the spark that their tongues ignite grow into a mighty, terrible forest fire.
I'm nit sure if Sonya got suspended, but I sure hope that she did so she can learn that her terrible actions come with a terrible consequence.
Class (thankfully) dismissed!
*Names have been changed to protect the identities of the students
Monday, September 2, 2013
1st graders are bad at math
I had a first grade class for two days this week, which left me with these precious moments:
Blonde-haired, blue-eyed boy: I'm Mexican.
Another kid: Me too. Do you know how to say taco in Spanish? Burrito!
Me: Class, what's a foal?
Boy: It's a baby pony!
Girl: No, it's a baby horse. A pony gots the horn on its head.
We were working on a fun little activity called "Everyone is Special." On the first page they were to write their name and than finish the line, "I am...."
The blonde-haired, blue-eyed boy from before wrote, "I am fragool." (At first I thought he was trying to write "frugal," but he said it's "fragile." I wasn't expecting a first grader to use either to describe himself.) I asked him what was another thing that he could put. His response: "I am... cute?" Well, there's no arguing that one.
I gave them a pretty tough math problem one day: There are 9 apples in a tree. If 3 of them fall out, how many are left?
One kid was very adamant that it was 7, despite everyone else saying it was 6, including me. He showed me on his hands. He put up 5 fingers on one hand and 4 on the other. When he put his 3 middle fingers down, he brought his thumb up, giving him 7. It took a while to explain to him why that was wrong.
The math problem the next day was just as hard: my mom made 12 cookies. My sister ate 7 of them. How many cookies are left for me?
I asked one kid what his answer was and how he got it.
"5?"
"How did you get that?"
"7?"
"How did you get that?"
"7!"
"7 is not an answer to how you solved your problem."
This one took a while as well.
Class dismissed!
Blonde-haired, blue-eyed boy: I'm Mexican.
Another kid: Me too. Do you know how to say taco in Spanish? Burrito!
Me: Class, what's a foal?
Boy: It's a baby pony!
Girl: No, it's a baby horse. A pony gots the horn on its head.
We were working on a fun little activity called "Everyone is Special." On the first page they were to write their name and than finish the line, "I am...."
The blonde-haired, blue-eyed boy from before wrote, "I am fragool." (At first I thought he was trying to write "frugal," but he said it's "fragile." I wasn't expecting a first grader to use either to describe himself.) I asked him what was another thing that he could put. His response: "I am... cute?" Well, there's no arguing that one.
I gave them a pretty tough math problem one day: There are 9 apples in a tree. If 3 of them fall out, how many are left?
One kid was very adamant that it was 7, despite everyone else saying it was 6, including me. He showed me on his hands. He put up 5 fingers on one hand and 4 on the other. When he put his 3 middle fingers down, he brought his thumb up, giving him 7. It took a while to explain to him why that was wrong.
The math problem the next day was just as hard: my mom made 12 cookies. My sister ate 7 of them. How many cookies are left for me?
I asked one kid what his answer was and how he got it.
"5?"
"How did you get that?"
"7?"
"How did you get that?"
"7!"
"7 is not an answer to how you solved your problem."
This one took a while as well.
Class dismissed!
Saturday, August 17, 2013
God Bless Kindergarten Teachers
I had a kindergarten class yesterday for a couple hours. It made me really appreciate those warriors on the front lines who teach these kids full time. Sometimes, they're accidentally hilarious. Like this guy, who I'll call A*:
A: What's your name?
Me: Mr. Jefferson
A: Are you married?
Me: No.
A: Then why are you "Mister"?
Me: Ugh....
This same kid also commented on the softness of the back of his teacher's hand, which I thought was kinda strange:
A: Ms. Teacher's hand is soft. Like a feather.
Me: O... kay?
A: Or chicken.
Me: Um, what?!
But for all the unintentionally funny things they say and do, there are the kids who just don't understand when I say, "Face forward," "Hands to yourself," "Please sit down on the rug," "Absolutely no talking," "Don't pick your nose," etc. And I'm of course saying each of these roughly a bajillion times, and mostly to the same 4 kids. This class had a couple special cases.
Like Isaac. I don't know his story, but the aide seemed to let him do his own thing while the rest of the class was practicing the letter M, so I let it be. Well, Isaac came back to his seat right when it was about time to go to Spanish. I told the class that it was time to go. This kid burst into tears because he didn't have time to finish. I mean, he was bawling. I wanted to bring up that he was playing for the past half hour, but I had to wrangle up the others who didn't understand that we were done.
But the one who really takes the cake is Nate. Nate was one of those kids who couldn't sit still if his life depended on it. I threatened to send him to the office if he didn't move his patootie to the rug (I of course didn't use such language). He was running/crawling around the room all the time. It was when I picked them up from music that I had had enough. He pushed another kid out of the line. So I said, "Okay, Nate, I'm taking you to the office." He ran around the music room until I and the music teacher (who was also a sub that day) cornered him. Then I had to carry him to the office. Let me repeat that. I had to carry a 5-year-old, who had kicked his shoes off and continued to kick while I carried him, through the hallway, with his class and other classes watching, to the office. When we got to the office, the principal said that I'd done a good job because they expected him an hour earlier. That's good, I guess?
Needless to say, I was relieved when these kids left the classroom I borrowed to go terrorize their homes.
Class dismissed!
*All names have been changed to protect the identities of these weirdos.
A: What's your name?
Me: Mr. Jefferson
A: Are you married?
Me: No.
A: Then why are you "Mister"?
Me: Ugh....
This same kid also commented on the softness of the back of his teacher's hand, which I thought was kinda strange:
A: Ms. Teacher's hand is soft. Like a feather.
Me: O... kay?
A: Or chicken.
Me: Um, what?!
But for all the unintentionally funny things they say and do, there are the kids who just don't understand when I say, "Face forward," "Hands to yourself," "Please sit down on the rug," "Absolutely no talking," "Don't pick your nose," etc. And I'm of course saying each of these roughly a bajillion times, and mostly to the same 4 kids. This class had a couple special cases.
Like Isaac. I don't know his story, but the aide seemed to let him do his own thing while the rest of the class was practicing the letter M, so I let it be. Well, Isaac came back to his seat right when it was about time to go to Spanish. I told the class that it was time to go. This kid burst into tears because he didn't have time to finish. I mean, he was bawling. I wanted to bring up that he was playing for the past half hour, but I had to wrangle up the others who didn't understand that we were done.
But the one who really takes the cake is Nate. Nate was one of those kids who couldn't sit still if his life depended on it. I threatened to send him to the office if he didn't move his patootie to the rug (I of course didn't use such language). He was running/crawling around the room all the time. It was when I picked them up from music that I had had enough. He pushed another kid out of the line. So I said, "Okay, Nate, I'm taking you to the office." He ran around the music room until I and the music teacher (who was also a sub that day) cornered him. Then I had to carry him to the office. Let me repeat that. I had to carry a 5-year-old, who had kicked his shoes off and continued to kick while I carried him, through the hallway, with his class and other classes watching, to the office. When we got to the office, the principal said that I'd done a good job because they expected him an hour earlier. That's good, I guess?
Needless to say, I was relieved when these kids left the classroom I borrowed to go terrorize their homes.
Class dismissed!
*All names have been changed to protect the identities of these weirdos.
Sunday, May 19, 2013
Kids say the racistest things! (S1E2)
I thought about just adding this on to the previous post, since no one would notice because no one reads this blog (yet), but this deserves its own post. (Plus I can turn "Kids say the racistest things!" into a series)
I was walking through the halls after having dropped my 6th grade class off at the computer lab. This would be a good time to pick up some food, since I packed my lunch and left it in the fridge at home (for the second day in a row, 'cause I'm awesome). As I was walking to my car, I hear a tiny voice behind me. I didn't know this kid. I still don't. We didn't really converse. Our paths crossed and probably won't ever again. And so, it will be written in the history books that only three words were exchanged between me and this child:
"Whoa! You refer to me by my race, and then wave at me, like I'm supposed to wave back?!" I mean, yeah, I am black, but you don't call people by their skin color. So what did I do? In a strange mixture of defiance and bewilderment, I refused to wave back. That'll show him! I bet he'll remember that the next time he wants to call someone "black man" instead of "sir."
Ok, so I didn't use it as a moment to defy the blatant racism or to (God forbid) teach this kid that that's not how you acknowledge people, but I was in such a state of shock that he so innocently called a (black) spade a (black) spade.
Class dismissed!
I was walking through the halls after having dropped my 6th grade class off at the computer lab. This would be a good time to pick up some food, since I packed my lunch and left it in the fridge at home (for the second day in a row, 'cause I'm awesome). As I was walking to my car, I hear a tiny voice behind me. I didn't know this kid. I still don't. We didn't really converse. Our paths crossed and probably won't ever again. And so, it will be written in the history books that only three words were exchanged between me and this child:
"Hi, black man."I couldn't believe what I had just heard. I turned around slowly to see a little boy, probably in kindergarten, wave at me.
"Whoa! You refer to me by my race, and then wave at me, like I'm supposed to wave back?!" I mean, yeah, I am black, but you don't call people by their skin color. So what did I do? In a strange mixture of defiance and bewilderment, I refused to wave back. That'll show him! I bet he'll remember that the next time he wants to call someone "black man" instead of "sir."
Ok, so I didn't use it as a moment to defy the blatant racism or to (God forbid) teach this kid that that's not how you acknowledge people, but I was in such a state of shock that he so innocently called a (black) spade a (black) spade.
Class dismissed!
Thursday, May 9, 2013
Kids say the racistest things!
There's a song in the wildly popular/inappropriate musical Avenue Q called "Everyone's A Little Bit Racist." Hang around children (or really anyone) and you'll see that that's true.
These are actual moments from my classrooms.
Non-Mexican student: "People always think I'm Mexican because of my last name."
Clueless White student: "What race are you?"
Non-Mexican student: "I'm Puerto Rican."
Clueless White student: "Isn't that the same thing?"
Me: *smh* (shake my head)
~~~~~~~~
White student: "Mr. Jefferson, are there white people in Africa?"
Me: "Yes."
Black student: "There are white people everywhere
White student: "That's racist."
Black student: "That's not racist. It'd be racist if I said 'I don't like that there are white people everywhere.'"
Me: *nmh* (nod my head)
~~~~~~~~
White student: "They don't have a language in Africa. They just click and stuff. *starts clicking*
Me: *vsmhawmh* (violently shake my head and wave my hands) "You should never say that again. You'll sound stupid." (I didn't say that last part, but I wanted to)
~~~~~~~~
Curious student: "So... where are you from?"
Me: "Phoenix."
Curious student: "I mean, what country?"
Me: "America."
Curious student: "Where are your parents from?"
Me: "Arizona and California."
Curious student: *frustrated*
Me: *hhhiv* (hold head high in victory)
~~~~~~~~
Those were all from the same junior high. This next one's from my Sunday school class, free of charge.
Chinese girl: "Are you from Ethiopia."
This is a lot less offensive when you take into account that she is a) 6-years-old and 2) adopted into a family that also adopted a boy from Ethiopia. She just must have figured that since her brother is black and is from Ethiopia, this other black person must be from Ethiopia.
Class dismissed!
These are actual moments from my classrooms.
Non-Mexican student: "People always think I'm Mexican because of my last name."
Clueless White student: "What race are you?"
Non-Mexican student: "I'm Puerto Rican."
Clueless White student: "Isn't that the same thing?"
Me: *smh* (shake my head)
~~~~~~~~
White student: "Mr. Jefferson, are there white people in Africa?"
Me: "Yes."
Black student: "There are white people everywhere
White student: "That's racist."
Black student: "That's not racist. It'd be racist if I said 'I don't like that there are white people everywhere.'"
Me: *nmh* (nod my head)
~~~~~~~~
White student: "They don't have a language in Africa. They just click and stuff. *starts clicking*
Me: *vsmhawmh* (violently shake my head and wave my hands) "You should never say that again. You'll sound stupid." (I didn't say that last part, but I wanted to)
~~~~~~~~
Curious student: "So... where are you from?"
Me: "Phoenix."
Curious student: "I mean, what country?"
Me: "America."
Curious student: "Where are your parents from?"
Me: "Arizona and California."
Curious student: *frustrated*
Me: *hhhiv* (hold head high in victory)
~~~~~~~~
Those were all from the same junior high. This next one's from my Sunday school class, free of charge.
Chinese girl: "Are you from Ethiopia."
This is a lot less offensive when you take into account that she is a) 6-years-old and 2) adopted into a family that also adopted a boy from Ethiopia. She just must have figured that since her brother is black and is from Ethiopia, this other black person must be from Ethiopia.
Class dismissed!
Thursday, May 2, 2013
Bullies & Instigators
I always thought that I'd be the ultra-strict teacher who just wouldn't put up with any of the crap the kids give, but I've learned that a teacher has to be flexible. There are certain rules that we just kinda have to overlook, unfortunately. If, for example, I gave out a detention every time I heard a cuss word, we'd run out of paper. Unless it gets really bad, I mostly just correct students (you mean "shoot," right?) or tell them to watch their mouths.
Today, I told a kid to watch his mouth. This kid is kinda funny to me. I subbed for his math teacher, and he was a handful. He said that he had ADD and used that as an excuse. But in this class (American History), he's always working hard with the student next to him. It's night and day difference. It might be the subject. It might be the teacher (I haven't heard anything good from these kids about their math teacher). It might just be that he has history 1st hour and he gets crazy as the day progresses. Who knows? It doesn't really matter to me.
But I heard him swear in class, and I told him to watch his mouth. He was looking angrily at another kid. Usually, "Watch your mouth" gets them back on track, but not this time. This kid was pissed. From what I gathered, Payton* (the kid who did the cussing-out) did something to provoke Hans (the kid being cussed-out). Hans called Payton retarded. Payton apparently does not like being called retarded. At all.
So I had to take off my teacher hat for a second and put on my cop/negotiator hat. They both wanted to keep going at it while I was trying to talk them down. Hans kept turning around and saying, "Don't dish it out if you can't take it." I told him he needed to hush his mouth and turn around. Meanwhile, I'm trying to calm Payton down. This kind of thing was not in the substitute handbook (was there a substitute handbook?), so I have to use my gut. I don't like taking sides, but it was obvious that Hans was just provoking Payton to piss him off, which pisses me off. I hate it when kids (people in general, really) find a nerve and intentionally strike it. That's weak. That's cowardly. That's just plain wrong. If I see this happen again tomorrow, Hans is gone. That type of nonsense doesn't belong in any classroom, and I won't allow it in any that I'm in.
Well, I have to play teacher/cop/negotiator/counselor/father/babysitter/whatever for one more day. I'm honestly gonna miss (some of) them. I kinda hope I get to teach some of them when I start teaching full-time. That would be really awesome. But until then,
Class dismissed!
*All names have been changed to protect the identities of the students
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