Twas the Day Before Christmas Eve, and All Through The School...

So, what is the point of having school on December 23? NOBODY wants to be there. Anything you teach will just have to be re-taught (either they aren't paying attention or they'll just forget over the next 12 days.) Several kids are missing anyway.
It was pretty ridiculous.
However, let me just reiterate--I freaking LOVE these children.
You take the biggest gangsters with the filthiest mouths, give them some crayons and a coloring book and they are all over it. During my planning period, I went upstairs to another class (8th graders that I used to teach), and started coloring. I colored a picture, wrote "Merry Christmas! From: Ms. Vinson" on it and gave it to a 14 year old boy. He hung it up in his locker! How cute is that?!

Also, some stupid crap is in the process of happening, but I'll get to that later.
Merry Christmas!

Pretty Much The Best Day Ever

So, today we took 33 8th graders to Outward Bound. They were in 5 separate groups. Each group did either a rock climbing activity or a ropes course, and several strategy/team-building activities. I looooooooove Outward Bound. It is perfect, perfect, perfect for my kids. We went 3 years ago and it was fantastic.

But today, in each group of about 6-7 students was also 5-6 city police officers. They spent the whole day together encouraging each other and working through problems. The kids were fantastic and as Devin said, "Them cops was cool, yo."

<--The boy in the blue could talk, but he couldn't see. Everyone else couldn't talk, but they could see. They were trying to tell a cop, who was blindfolded, behind the boy in the blue how to get to the prize.

William and the police officer are harnessed together.

Run to the middle and high-five if you're a

Steelers fan?

Tatianna climbing the tree and onto the wire.

I believe his exact words were, "No, no, no. Get me down. No, no, no. I hate you." And then after it was over, "That was fun, can I go again?"

What the-- How the-- Who would--- Why??

Today.

A teacher.
found CRAYFISH.
in a girl's.
PENCIL CASE.
She said it was from Sunday night's dinner.

That's What I Get For Trying To Look Nice

Terrell is the funniest person I have ever met. Seriously, he is going to be famous someday.

Yesterday I wore black dress pants, dress shoes, and a maroon shirt with frilly things on it.

"Ms. Vinson"

"Yeah?"

"Are you about to go dance with the stars?"

Maurice In Charge

Maurice is one of my 6th graders. He's really small and pretty much a super genius. He's also a little bit nuts. He annoys the crap out of all the girls and he finds everyone annoying.

Today was Charles' first day. He's really annoying. I saw Maurice in the office after lunch.

Me: Maurice, what are you doing in here?
Maurice: Me and Charles was fightin'. He's comin' in here all gettin' on everybody's nerves and botherin' the girls. He can't be all doin' that on the first day! He needed to know I get on they nerves! not him! he ugly anyway.

Roll Tide?

So my first year teaching, this kid named Chris was kindof my archnemesis. He was one of the first kids to call me names and tell me hated me. Ahh, good times.

He's something like 17 now and in the 11th grade. I taught him as a 7th grader and I haven't seen him since.
However, he sends one of my students (Jermaine) with a message to me every single Monday about the weekend's Alabama football game.
"Miss Vinson, Chris said to tell you that Alabama is going to lose this weekend and you should forget about that national championship."
"Miss Vinson, Chris said to tell you that your quarterback is stupid and slow."

Glad I made an impression. :)

Santa? I KNOW HIM!

Today we were watching "Elf" before school started. One of the boys in my room said to me,
"Don't you think there's really a Santa Claus up there? Like, he doesn't go around to houses or nothing. He's like, retired or something. Chillin'. Don't you think so?

Clearly It Was Take Your Camera To Work Day

This is a picture of steam and incredibly hot water flowing out of the school building. I couldn't get a picture of it, but every few minutes it geysers out like Olde Faithful. I'm assuming it comes from the hot water heater but I really have no clue. The best part is that, not only is the super hot water a hazard, but the water on the ground is now starting to freeze.

So, if the scalding hot water doesn't hurt you, that painful fall on the ice sure will!

By Request: Classroom Photos

I Say To-may-to, You Say To-mah-to

While the 6th graders were working on timelines, I made some flowers out of construction paper. A few hours later, while I was teaching th 7th graders, I couldn't find my flowers anywhere. I asked one of the groups.

Me: Have you seen my flowers?

Darien: Uh. Oh! Do you mean my ninja stars?

Rasheed: Yeah, the ninja stars are over there on the counter.

Brush Off the Haters

Alright so, I didn't post this a while ago because it wasn't a big deal. But now another similar not big deal has happened and the two situations together create a blogworthy deal.
Here they are:
We go to IB trainings. Sort of. We did anyway. I haven't been to one in about a year. The IB people are coming in February to make sure we're doing what we're supposed to. Nobody has said anything IBish to me all year. Three days of training almost a year ago does not make me an expert at this. Especially since I hate it.
The thing about these trainings is that you have to pay for everything (hotel, airfare, food) up front and then get reimbursed after you get back. Yeah, that doesn't work for everybody. So about a month ago, the art teacher had been signed up for a conference and he couldn't afford to go. The 6th grade administrator/IB director came into our team meeting and asked if any of us could go in his place. I said I could (because I could just put it all on my credit card.) She said okay and then immediately walked down the hall and asked someone else, not 15 seconds after she talked to me. But it was weird because she never told me that she asked that other person, I ended up hearing it from him.
So, a week goes by. It's Monday, and he is supposed to leave for the trip on Friday. He goes back to her and says, sorry, no, he actually can't go on the trip. He can't afford it. So here she comes in my room. Hey, do you want to go on the trip? Ummmmmmmmm.
I told her I could still go but the last minute plane ticket would probably be really expensive.
Well! Forget it then!
Oooookay. It was weird, but whatever. Since I've been blacklisted this year (rebellious? defiant? check! check!) I figured all the administrators are scared to be nice to me because principal might eat them. It's cool.

So, that brings us to today. The guidance counselor comes in my room and asks me for my curriculum. I give it to her and she says, "I need to look over it before I go to the training." I ask what training. "You know, the IB training. Since I'm going in your place."
I got replaced for training I didn't even know existed? So weird.
I have a theory on this though. Even though I requested the time off to see my brother like a month in advance, had plenty of work, good students and I'm allotted 15 days off a year, principal likes to punish people for being out of work. If you miss one day, she tries to make you sub a class during your planning period. If you miss two days, she shows up in your room and yells at random people, etc.
I guess this is punishment for my 6 days. It's funny. She's punishing me by not allowing me to waste an entire weekend talking about social studies? She's punishing me by not letting me learn things that (supposedly) make me a better teacher? Strategery at its best.
.

I'm Baaaack

So, I was out for 6 days. My brother came home from Iraq! yaaaay.
The kids and I had a nice little reunion and my room wasn't dirty so I didn't have to kill anyone.

carlton: did you tell your brother i said hi?
me: no, why?

carlton: in case he has to save my life one day! tell him my whole name, carlton warker. carlton warker says hi. so one day, if he ever has to save me, i can go, 'oh hey, i'm carlton warker!' and he'll go, 'oh, carlton warker, my sister taught you and you're a cool dude and you told me hi, so i'm gonna go ahead and save you. so don't forget to tell him."

me: well, alright then.

***********************************************************************
Principal said over the intercom: "Teachers, don't let kids out of your room. They are children because we are teachers." whaa?
***********************************************************************

Yes, We Can

I really don't know what my current political views would be if I had stayed in Alabama. I really liked John McCain in 2000, and I can't say that I actively dislike him now. (I dislike how he ran his campaign, and some of his choices, but I don't think he would be a horrible president.)

But living up here, and seeing people who never get inspired about anything, people who had written off politics a long time ago happily stand in line for 4 and 5 hours to vote for president was an amazing thing. Strangers hugging each other on the street; Children believing that they can become president someday, because finally someone who looks like them is in the White House. I can't imagine how people can look at that type of unity and say the horrible things I've heard from people outside this neighborhood. Every day of my four years here, I've had to actively search for hope. I can't tell you how many times I've said, "but I believe in you, why don't you believe in you?"
But today, we watched both Obama's acceptance speech. My kids were cheering. Cheering! They cheer over candy and snow days, not learning! They stayed up late to watch election coverage. They told me they couldn't sleep. Not because of the usual drug dealers and gunshots, but because of the cheers and car horns. They told me they don't want to say the N word anymore, even jokingly, because that's not how a president would talk. They chanted, "yes, we can!"
They said, "We can do it, Miss Vinson, we can make everything right."

Today, We Salute You, Mr. Fire Alarm Silencer

So I'm a really lazy teacher. This ends up working in my favor because I make kids do everything, and principals, administrators and such get all googly-eyed when they see kids "being a part" of the classroom. For example, I hate when kids ask me to go to the bathroom. So everyday, a kid is in charge of the bathroom pass. Only one person out at a time, all that business. The rule is, if I hear you talking about the bathroom pass, you can't go. That way, they don't bother me about it. Everyone's happy.

I'm also really lazy in the fact that I hate going places. And the fire alarm gets pulled all the time. I hate getting them all lined up, out in the hallway, only to hear, "Teachers, disregard the fire alarm." And then we proceed to sit in the hallway for half an hour waiting for that ear piercing alarm to stop ringing. It really cramps my style. So, some kid found an old hooded sweatshirt, stuffed it into an empty bucket (I know right?) and now we use that to cover up the fire alarm so we can go on with class. The tricky part is that the kid has to stand on top of the counter and reach up to hold the bucket over the fire alarm.
Today, before I had even fully enunciated my, "UGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHH," Montel was up on the counter covering up the fire alarm. I mean, we barely skipped a beat. It was beautiful. Granted it ends up being like some Survivor-esque endurance challenge to maintain that position for almost 30 minutes, but he seems to enjoy himself.

See? It's Not Just Me.

Okay, raise your hand if you're tired of hearing about my principal.

Oh, well, I can't see you so here's another lovely little anecdote.

Mr. J came to our school last year. He's a cool guy, but he's also the biggest ass-kisser in the history of the world. Principal loved him. She made him into somewhat of an assistant to the assistant principal. He never taught a single class. It was weird. Like he was Rasputin or something. He had unproven amazingness.
This year she made him the 8th grade administrator. Except, wait, he's not an administrator. He's a teacher on a power trip. He's really shady.
Clearly she planned his downfall from the beginning.
Sometimes I think Principal is the smartest person in the world and we are all just puppets in her dramatic As The Middle School Turns TV show.
He was playing chess at 4:30p.m. with another teacher. Read the previous sentence one more time for emphasis. Principal was walking through the hallway and went batshit crazy on him. Why? Who knows. She told him to pack up his office and he's now the computer teacher. No longer the 8th grade administrator. (Again, I will put words in her mouth, but the tone was something like, "I'm making you a teacher, and I think teachers are only a few steps above dog poop.")
That was last Wednesday and he hasn't been back.
I actually get that. The only way you make it in this school is by having people respect you, and he would have ZERO respect from kids if he got put back in the classroom. I mean damn, some of the teachers would probably laugh at him.
But all this because he was playing chess after school?


Oh, and all basketball game days, the coach told all the boys they have to wear ties (and they are so precious!) Principal screamed and yelled because she didn't "Authorize" ties. ties? TIES? You flip out over middle school boys wearing TIES? Somebody needs a hobby.

Coming Up With Titles Makes Me Tired

• I broke up a fight between a male teacher and a male student last week.

The Halloween dance was cancelled because an urban legend type thing about gang initiation was going around. I guess in this neighborhood they have to take it a little more seriously. Except way to take it to the extreme when we hear this announcement at 2pm:

"Students, we are about to have a fire drill. Even though it is not time for school to get out, just get your belongings and once you exit, just go home. Go straight home. This has nothing to do with that gang initiation stuff. Nothing at all. Go Straight Home!! But don't be scared. I'm not scared. It's no big deal. Not a big deal. Okay, the fire drill is happening...Now!"

Maybe somebody should have taken a deep breath and counted to ten before speaking over the intercom?

misquote

I'm sorry, I didn't give you the entire quote from crazy principal, so that you could get the whole crazy effect. I was so busy just getting it all out there that I forgot:

"You've been rebellious and defiant...sagittarius."

1. creepy that she remembers my sign
2. creepy that she knows traits of signs that are not hers
3. creepy that she feels okay using these terms in a work discussion.

Thankfully the stuff she said before and after was inflammatory enough to focus on so I didn't have to worry about a comeback like, "Well, in Chinese astrology I'm the Year of the Dog, and you know how we get!"

Happy Halloweeeeeeeeee-sit down and be quiet!

So, which do you want first, the good news, the bad news, or the psycho principal update?

Alright. The good news. In the midst of it all, some teachers have managed to form a boys’ and a girls’ basketball team…and they’re both pretty good. Taurus, the boy who might as well be my son, is the captain and emotional leader of the boys’ team and I am thisclose to yelling out, “That’s my boy!” at the games.
At the game Thursday, the infamous Trevon (who now goes to another school even though his house is literally 10 feet away from our school) showed up with like 15 boys I’ve never seen before. First thought: yay! Community support! Second thought: Oh. Crap.

The bad news. After the game was over, Trevon and his…I don’t even know what to call them. Henchmen? Soldiers? Dummies who blindly follow a 14 year old goofball? Anyway, Trevon and his “people” surrounded the other team’s bus and started throwing up gang signs (Me: Trevon! Put the Jazz Hands away!) Cops had to be called. It was just a stupid mess and I am so angry with him for it.
In fact, I know this is going to sound crazy to pretty much everyone, but today I saw him outside his house and I dragged him by the ear down the steps to yell at him. I’ve been grabbing this boy’s ears for 3 years, and it was weird to realize he’s like 4 inches taller than me now. He’s gotten so huge and old. I’m watching him self-destruct and I don’t know whether to scream or cry.

And on to the psycho principal update. We had scheduled a Halloween Dance, which we had to call Octoberfest. We decided on Monday that she was going to find some dumb reason to cancel it. And, of course, she did. She wanted the kids to go home early because Halloween is dangerous. Okay! We teachers have an idea! Let’s have the dance during school hours!

Hahahaha. You morons. (Okay, she didn’t say “morons” but her tone implied such.) That is INSTRUCTIONAL TIME. We can’t take away from INSTRUCTIONAL TIME for ACTIVITIES.
Okay, fine, whatever. You’re an idiot. We hate you.

But that’s not even the best part. She called me to the office before she cancelled the dance to talk to me about the dance (even though I wasn’t even in charge…unimportant.) I walked into her office and her opening line was, “I am so disappointed in you this year. You have been rebellious and defiant.”
Me: Well, that’s what happens when people attack me for no reason.
Her: Youre not following your curriculum. And I know you called the Social Studies office when you should listen to your IST.
Me: How would you know? I’ve never seen you in my classroom. And my IST was misinformed. She’s the one who told me to call.
Her: Okay, well what about SGA?
Me: I went to the meeting and asked to speak with you about it and you never got back to me.
Her: WELL. I have things to do. I’m a busy person.
Me: Oh, well I just sit around and twiddle my thumbs.
Her: YOU DON”T KNOW WHAT ALL I HAVE TO DO.
Me: I didn’t say I did. But I also have things to do besides wait on you.
Her: Clearly this conversation is going nowhere.
Me: Clearly.

But later on in the day, she came to me and hugged me THREE separate times. It was one of those things where you’re so weirded out that you just go with it because you don’t know what else to do. I don’t think she can decide to think of me as her daughter or her arch-nemesis. (Hey! I’ve got a crazy thought! Think of me as a co-worker! What!!)

Turncoat

Some background: Several of my students are in a gang that was originally loosely based on movements in the 60s and 70s that focused on socialism. Basically the only thing they have left from those ties is the fact that they call each other "comrades."

This week in my class, we're watching both the Barack Obama and John McCain biographies. All of them would boo when I mentioned McCain but I told them I had to be fair. Today, we watched his biography. At one point, he's giving a speech that begins, "Friends, comrades..."

Dervon: WAIT!! Aw, heck naw! McCain is a comrade?! Oh, forget Barack Obama then! Go McCain!"

You Can Vote However You Like

(thanks Amanda.)

http://http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UxlwYP0HNdc&feature=related

family

6th period:

Me: Carlton! UNLESS you are finished with your essay there should be NO WORDS COMING OUT OF YOUR MOUTH!

Carlton: You're a mean aunt.

Am I In Your Top Eight?

So I was in the math teacher's room wandering around because I tend to procrastinate. In one corner there are a pile of folders that the 8th grader keep their work in. I started looking at them for no reason. They're hysterical. It's the regular middle school stuff like "Brittany LUVS blahblah" and blahblah's name has been erased and re-written like 15 times. or there's a list. Brittany LUVS deonte, damonte, eric and tony. Then I found Tiana's.
This girl's math folder is like some low-tech myspace profile.

~~***TiAnA***~~~ Soulja Gurrrl!!!
my mood is__bOOreddd__

status:
single [ ]
taken [ ]
crushin' [x]

The Theme of the Year is "Seriously??!!"

So, I forgot to tell you about the previously mentioned awesome budgeting lesson: it was my Formal Observation. (You know, twice a year they come in and make sure you don't suck...) Anyway, I was really happy because I got the one vice-principal who is not insane and/or worthless. Last year, my evaluation from her basically puked praise.
She walked around my room looking at things. She told me my room was "beautiful" and she laughed at what the kids were saying. She said, "oh, that's really cool" like 5 times. Things were on track for the same glowing recommendation.
I think we all know where this is going.
She pulled me aside the next day.
VP: Um, Ms. Vinson, you didn't teach them anything.
Me: Uh, what?
VP: You weren't teaching.
(Oh, sidenote, anytime faculty are assembled for any reason, principal screams at us about "letting the children teach each other" and "stop lecturing these students" and "hands on manipulatives" and all that. She's been known to drop in classrooms and scream "WHY ARE YOU STILL TALKING?!!" Also, I have many faults, but too much direct instruction is not one of them.)
Me: Well, you did come in late (15 minutes) so I had already explained the activi--
VP: Giving directions isn't teaching.
Me: Oooookay. Well, it was an introductory lesson on economics. They made a personal budget, and then, you were there, at the end of the class we talked about how countries also have to make decisions about how to spend money--
VP: Summarizing isn't teaching either. What I'm trying to tell you is, you have to have another Formal Observation...and you have to teach them something. I don't want you to get in trouble for not teaching, so I'm not going to tell anybody.
Me: Thanks so much.

Bingo Caller $19,000

So, one of my favorite lessons of the year is when we first start economics (I know, right.) I make them draw careers out of a hat and do a personal budget. People like my IST hate this type of lesson because the kids get really loud and its not actually in my curriculum (yes, I'm a horrible person.)
BUT if they would take a second to actually listen to what the kids are being so loud about, it's freaking hilarious.

"I CAN'T LIVE LIKE THIS!!!!"

"That's it. Ramen noodles for everybody."

"I'm a DOCTOR!!! TAKE THAT BITC-oh, I apologize for cursing miss vinson."

(a note written on one of the budget sheets): I don't have to pay rent because Rasheed said I could live with him so I could eat.

THEN, out of another hat, I make them draw situations like, "The refridgerator broke, $500." A few of them are pretty minor, "School Field Trips, $15 per kid"

"Ain't NOBODY in THIS HOUSE going on NO FIELD TRIP. I got bills to pay!"

I Think They Call These "Teachable Moments"

So, I was sitting at the table with two 6th grade girls, Mercedes and Shanice, this morning while they were working. We were talking about traveling.

Mercedes: Dang, Miss Vinson, you been everywhere!

Shanice: You ever been to Maryland?

Me: Um, Sha-

Mercedes: We in Maryland dummy!

Shanice: No, we in Baltimore.

But Her Heart Is Three Sizes Too Small

"Heathahh!" Principal said to me. "I need you to be the Student Government Advisor!"
"Errrrr...I don't know.."
"Great! The meeting is Thursday. Here's the paperwork. I already signed you up. Thanks Heathahh."

So I go to this meeting against my will. I am told at this meeting that I need to immediately: 1. ask my principal for $11,000, 2. have her arrange transportation so that me and 5-10 students can attend meetings which occur monthly and last throughout the entire school day and 3. beg that she pay me a stipend to do this (because the organization itself can't force her to)

To all of those things I say, hahahahahahahhha.
Eleven THOUSAND dollars?
Miss school once a month?
Expect her to pay me for something I'm already doing for free?

Oh, and I forgot to mention that one of her weirdo rules is that each HOMEROOM elect a president, vice-president, treasurer, secretary, parlimentarian and 2 representatives. So as of right now, my SGA runs at about 126 people in a school with 400 kids. And everyone has a title. Awesome.

Second Verse, Same As the First

My principal is the craziest woman I've ever met. The problem is I don't know if it's all an act or if she really needs medication.
Today was the perfect example. Usually, report cards are given out on half-days. The kids get out early and their parents are supposed to come pick up the report cards. Progress reports, on the other hand, are to be given directly to the kids. No parent/teacher interaction necessary.
Well, last Friday was Progress Report day. We weren't given them to hand out to the kids, we were given them after the they left. Two parents showed up. I put the progress reports back in the Assistant Principal's mailbox. This morning, they were back in my mailbox. During homeroom, I passed out the remaining Progress Reports to the students.
BIG HUGE PROBLEM!!!
Progress Reports are to be turned into the OFFICE (did that) and only given out to parents (tried that)!!!
Um, since when?
She does this, literally, all the time. I'm talking, 3-5 times a day. She heavily enforces rules she just made up moments before and she CANNOT BELIEVE you have the AUDACITY to not obey them. Sometimes I swear it's like some mind game.
Also, every morning she'll come over the intercom and say, "Teachers, I need you to come out in the hallway and get on your post of duty. Be ready to Meet and Greet our students." Then, less than 5 minutes later she'll see me in the hallway and say, "Miss! Vin! Son! Stop talking to those students!"
"I'm MEETING AND GREETING!"
"Don't you sass me."
Then I'm "Miss! Vin!Son! for two weeks until she needs something and i'm suddenly, "Heathaahh"

The Difference Between Us

Now, IST Ms. Sperry hasn't been horrible to me this week. Actually I haven't really seen her that much. (Yaay!)
But I was talking to another social studies teacher. He knows her pretty well and told me a couple of pieces of "advice"she gave him:

1. Don't ever, EVER go to a student's desk to help them. Stay at your desk, have them raise their hand and answer the question without getting up. (I guess this is some sort of "power" move?)

2. The kids are mosquitos. They will suck your blood. (I really have no idea what this was in reference to, or what it really means.)

3. Don't do anything to help them that is not school related.

Man, if I came to work everyday and I pictured the students as my enemies, it would get pretty tiring. I can't imagine being a teacher and not liking children. It makes no sense.

Is this why she hates me? I mean I go so far as to call them my children. I'll even tell some of them that them getting in trouble with other teachers makes me look bad. I never sit at my desk. If I sit anywhere, it's at a student desk with a group.
What, am I like a traitor or something? Fraternizing with the enemy?
What a freakin' weirdo.

"O, hi, o. I want a Minne sota, but I don't want to pay any texas on it."
-Shawna, 7th grade.

It's not even funny but I almost cried I was laughing so hard.

Fun Facts of the Week

• Mr. E had lit firecrackers thrown into his room.
• Somebody busted out one of the windows in the gym...during class.
• During 2nd period, Mr. M was punched in the mouth by a student. He did not react whatsoever. During last period, kids just kept running into his room, hitting him and running off. wtf.
• We had a Very Important Meeting for all of our IB kids. There were 12 teachers and 8 parents...out of 95.
• Our air conditioning has been turned off. It's literally 90+ degrees in the whole building.

I'm Detecting Stupidity

So, hey. I think I told you that we got a metal detector? We did. It's only on the 8th grade entrance. The one 8th graders come in from 7:45-8:00 a.m. After that they come in the front door, which does not have a metal detector. This was Act of Genius #1. (Obviously the hoodlums will be on time, yes?)
Act of Genius #2 was not even plugging it up for the first month of school. Now we have reached the Ultimate Act of Genius. They turned it on this week. What does that mean? Oh, it just means the on-time 8th graders walk through it while it beeps wildly because they all have metal. Does anyone search them? No. Does anyone even acknowledge that metal has been detected? No. Is any adult even standing any where near this thing? Nope. Sometimes they'll even walk back through it, laughing manically.
Anybody know how much metal detectors cost? I'm guessing I could've bought a book or two instead.

Ode to My Principal

Oh, how I loathe thee…let me count the ways

1. I hate how you talk over the intercom like its your personal phone line. Thank you for interrupting my class at least 15 times every day.
2. I hate how teachers have to go through upwards of five steps and countless pages of documentation in order for a student to be suspended, but you will suspend them for talking out of turn or having their shirt untucked while you are around.
3. I hate how you attempt to micro-manage everything to the point of exhaustion, but then act blustered and busy if someone tries to get your permission for something.
4. I hate how you reprimand teachers over the intercom.
5. I hate how you make up rules and then follow them blindly.
6. I hate how you will never listen to anyone’s ideas and then 3 days later have an “epiphany” and present the idea as your own. (or continue to refuse to listen to it for eternity.)
7. I hate how you preach “hands-on learning” to the point that I can order 50 pounds of clay but no books.
8. I hate how you scream over the intercom and to teachers that students must have “relevant homework” every single night, yet do not provide paper or a working copy machine and students are not allowed to take home books.
9. I hate that your vindictiveness has caused us to lose at least 5 really amazing teachers, and will continue to cost us.
10. I hate how you pick certain students to harass all the time, while another student can be doing the same thing with no consequence.
11. I hate how you treat teachers like wayward children.
12. I hate how you constantly praise people whose sole job is to do paperwork while constantly insulting the people who actually work with children.
13. I hate knowing that you have drastic mood swings that I have to work around and 80% of the time it is impossible to talk to you.
14. I hate your insistence that faculty meetings consist of you talking and everyone else listening.
15. I hate that you only talk about keeping things clean at faculty meetings.
16. I hate that you expect middle school students to be completely silent for hours at a time.
17. I hate that you think 8th graders need to be walked in a line to the exit at the end of the day.
18. I hate how you think I should care what you think about me.
19. I hate that fake voice and demeanor you suddenly adopt when we have visitors.

20. I hate how you blatantly ignore the insanity of the upper floors but demand perfection from the students on the first floor.

21. I hate how, despite all this, some part of me has to appreciate you because wherever you are, there is no chaos.

I hate that there’s so many more things that I hate that are much harder to explain.

The Weirdest Day of The Year...

is the day after I get a haircut.
This is a very serious issue. My students still refer to 2 years ago when I cut off like 6 inches. ("Oh man, do you remember when she cut her hair? I still can't believe she did it." they whisper to each other.)
Now, I'm really cheap, so I refuse to pay for a haircut that has no visible difference. So I always get at least 2 or 3 inches cut off. no big deal?
Oh, but it is. I'm so unconcerned with my appearance that it totally boggles my mind when other people are. I didn't get a crew cut or dye it pink or anything. I just had 3 inches cut off. These are the reactions I expect (as I have learned from past experience):
Gasps.
WHAT HAVE YOU DONE????s.
Hair petting and sighs of remorse.
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOs.

I'm most concerned about Arricka, who told me last year when I got a haircut, "I just...I just can't even talk to you right now."

I get incredibly sad when we're studying Geography and I ask them to describe characteristics of their neighborhood.
Scary
Horrible
Frightening
Violent
Dirty
Noisy
Unhealthy

Victory Is (Sort Of) Mine!

Okay! So I got the email from the Director of Social Studies. And, of course, I am right and they are wrong. yaay!
I haven't informed them of this because I'm not yet ready to be mature enough to do something besides scream, " THAT'S RIGHT BITCHES!"
So I say victory is sortof mine because, well, I AM right, but who knows how they'll react to my rightness. You never know with the crazies.

"I've got soul, but I'm not a soldier."

Part of me knows that all this is a sign that it's time to go. I don't deal well with being micro-managed.
However, I really hate change and I really really love my kids. I get upset every time I think about it. I also enjoy the people that I work with (with one GLARING exception).
It just seems so easy because I have an out. So many people I work with have lived here forever, this is where their families are. They have reasons to stay. And a job is a job. But my family is far away. And there are jobs closer.

But this is my career. I like freaking people out with my stories. :) I'm good at working with inner-city kids. I've never really thought I was that great of a teacher, I just know I'm good with kids. So, "regular" school isn't really an option.

I don't have any idea what to do. It'll be hard to stay and hard to let go.


P.S. I'm at Panera and the weirdest thing is happening. This group of a man, a woman and a teenage looking boy all sat down at separate tables, the woman facing the boy, the boy facing the wall and the man facing the inside of the restaurant but with his back to the woman and the boy. I didn't even know they were together but now they are all talking to each other like this is family dinner. Why aren't they sitting together?? People are soooo weird.

FRUSTRATION.

It's really hard to figure out how to write about this. There is an exhaustive amount of details that may or may not make sense. I'm really emotional about it.* I don't want to sound like a whiner. Oh, well. Here goes.
This woman, my IST, is someone I've talked about before. She was a social studies teacher last year and this is her first year out of the classroom. We'll call her Ms. Sperry. Ms. Sperry loves for things to be "easy." If someone else did her lesson planning, she would be in heaven. She likes being given direction. She likes impressing people.
Ms. Vinson, on the other hand, has her own direction and could give a shit about impressing people.
Last year, Ms. Sperry was upstairs (with the crazies). The kids were really good for her. And as far as I know, nobody really "hated" her. I would hear the kids grumble, but kids grumble about teachers all the time. Anyway, amist all the craziness up there, she never ever left her room. If there was a fight 2 feet from her door, oh well. I'm not trying to really put any judgement in that statement, just that's how she was. Okay, I'm judging. She's not a team player. She didn't ever try to help the teachers who were having problems. She is the queen of, "Well, I don't know what to tell you. I don't have problems from them." Okay, so the kids learned absolutely nothing all year. It wasn't "her job" to help those teachers.
Well, now it is. But she doesn't have the teachers whose rooms look like insanity. She has me. And 3 other teachers. Those teachers definitely have classroom management issues (nothing huge) but they are all in their 2nd year of teaching. Last year for them was horrrible, so I'm guessing they are thrilled with any guidance. Or maybe they can just take it better than me.
Anyway, since I've talked to basically everyone about this, several people have said that they think she is jealous of my situation. She wants to teach the advanced kids and work with the teachers who can do their job effectively. (Which makes sense.) So, instead of coming into my room and finding the positive, she is instead looking at how she would do it differently. Which would be fine if she didn't phrase this in ways that make it seem like I have to do everything she says.
What really brought all this to the breaking point was her weekly meeting. I'm supposed to meet with her every Wednesday at 9:30a.m. I forgot twice. Now, I'm sure there is something subconscious about this but I really did forget. She wrote a memo saying I REFUSE (she wrote it like that..like we fought about it or something) to attend meetings. So, because of this, I had to have a meeting with her and one of the asst. principals.
At this meeting, I told them I feel like I'm being attacked. She comes to my room everyday and writes in her notebook for 20 minutes and never tells me what this says. She picks little insignificant things and totally blows them out of proportion. She "suggests" things, but then asks me about implementing her suggestions everyday. (While she is "suggesting," she talks to me like I'm four years old and have stolen cookies.) She asks for something to be done and expects it to be changed immediately. If I tell her she is stressing me out, she says, "No, I'm not." Her positive comments all have to do with my room (it's "pretty"). Or they are so condescending I don't even count them as compliments. (Ex. when she looked at my lesson plan for the first time, she said, "beautiful" like 9 times because she thought I had followed her directions. But if she had looked at any of my previous lesson plans, she would know I changed nothing.)
Her issues with me:
1. I make my kids learn the states. It is not in the curriculum and has nothing to do with what I'm teaching. Their homework every night is to study their states. Every Friday they have to know 10 more and I don't care which 10. This is an EXTREMELY HUGE PROBLEM. Obviously. Because the homework is vague, because I do not give them strategies to learn the states. Because after we had gotten to 30, she gave me some worksheets on making them learn them by region and I did not use them. (Hey kids, remember how I said any 10? Just Kidding! hahahahaha.)
2. Working in groups is not "cooperative learning." You know the strategy, one person is the time keeper, one person is the manager, whatever. Well, one person is supposed to be "the recorder" who turns in all the work. When my kids work in groups, EVERYBODY has to turn in the work. Another EXTREMELY HUGE PROBLEM. In her memo, I "refuse to incorporate cooperative learning" in my classroom.
3. One day, on a shortened schedule, my "warm-up" was "Go to the bookshelf and get your textbook. Turn to pg. 16." Then we were going to start the assignment immediately because I only had 40 minutes. Serious Issue. This warm-up did not align with my curriculum!!!!! Let me repeat that this was one day and one warm-up (I have 3 a day.)
4. I don't write every single thing I'm going to say in my lesson plan. (this is the part about me giving a shit about impressing people and that being her only mission in life)

The asst. principal, who I really like but I also know has her own issues, totally did not listen to anything. She instead decided to make all those ridiculous statements in my previous post. She focused on the fact that I am "sensitive" and Ms. Sperry needs to understand that when talking to me.
She then went on that whole tangent about me not following the curriculum (because I make up my own activities) which no one had ever,ever told me until that meeting. Apparently, the "suggested" activities are not suggested at all. (Somebody really needs to get these people a dictionary.) I don't understand why I get in trouble for teaching the exact same thing in my own way. Who cares? (Oh, "they" do.)
She also was all up in my business because I'm going faster/slower than I'm supposed to. If the curriculum "suggests" I spend 1 week on "Colonial Life" then by God, I will be spending one week teaching colonial life. (But! I only teach them for 18 weeks and the curriculum is set up for 36 weeks!.....So?.....So I won't get to even half of it!......So?.....)
All of this was news to me (Hey! Isn't this your 4th year teaching this exact curriculum? Why yes! It is!) So I spent the 2nd half of the meeting with one of those "What...the...hell..." looks on my face.
What we learned by the end of this meeting is:
I have not been following rules I was not aware existed.
I now must follow these rules, even though I still don't know what most of them are.
Ms. Sperry is no longer allowed to talk to my students when she is in my room, or call me out while I'm teaching. (victory!)
I'm sensitive.
Kids learning things and enjoying social studies is not important.
Me coming up with my own ideas is unacceptable.

I am unhappy with the outcome of this meeting. I've emailed the Director of Social Studies to make sure what they said is the truth. Seriously, I can.not. believe. we have to follow that curriculum to the letter. If it is true, then peace out Baltimore! If its not, we'll see what their reaction to me being right and them being wrong is before we proceed.
whew. if anybody is still with me after all that, congratulations! hope it wasn't too exhausting to read.

*see next post.

Possibly The Beginning of The End

I've always known that when I quit this job it would be because of some dumb-ass administrator or city-wide mandate that I totally disagree with. It might be both and it might be soon. Today I had a meeting with my IST and one of the asst. principals to discuss our inability to work together. Quotes from this gigantic waste of time:

"I know you're used to doing things your way. If you wanted to talk about Barack Obama and the election, then you could. But it's not that way anymore. You have to read out of the book and do only what says. You don't have any say in the matter."

"I don't understand why this is such a big deal. Not having to think about what you're teaching should make it easier for you. Why are you so resistant?"

"Having a trial with students as prosecutors and defense attorneys to teach the Salem Witch Trials does not address any skills. Why aren't you addressing skills?"

"You have to go exactly by the curriculum guide. If it says to spend two weeks on this subject, you have to spend two weeks on this subject. It does not matter that you won't get to more than half of the information. What matters is that you follow the rules."

"I know what you're trying to do. You are trying to be a damn good teacher. But that doesn't matter. What matters is that you do what you're told."

Obviously, they don't know me very well.

(More on this subject later.)

Do You Think She's Still Mad?

I was told today, by my principal, that I "talk to kids too much."

Aw Hellz Naw.

So, I feel like I'm sort of getting off track with all these angry posts. But, then I remember that I'm trying to document what it's like in my inner-city school and that involves a lot of anger (usually directed at incompetent adults). So here's another.

Today at 10:30 a.m., a whole bunch of kids start running down the stairs coughing and crying and some are even throwing up.
You guessed it! It's everybody's favorite, the school tradition: Mace Day!
Except this time no police were involved, some thoughtful kid just sprayed it everywhere. We evacuate the building (our windows are bolted shut, so of course there is no way to ventilate.) We stand outside for one hour. Nobody reallly knows what is going on, especially not the kids. We have no idea when/if we are going back inside. Principal is yelling for everyone stand in a line and keep silent (???) Considering the situation, the kids were actually really, really good. No, they weren't silent, but they stayed with their class and nobody fought or did anything crazy. So, props to them.
Now, the angry part. I didn't have a class at the time, but I was walking around to all the 8th graders making sure they weren't being dumb and whatnot. Once it's time to go back inside, all the kids line back up and Principal starts directing them in one class at a time. The special ed class is getting a little loopy so I go over to get them in line. Steven, this one goofy boy, is being...goofy. Anyway, I put him in a headlock (it's what I do...don't ask) and I'm telling him to get in line and not cause any problems.

Act 1, Scene 1
Principal (from 20 feet away, in front of about 200 kids): MISS VINSON!!!!! I NEED YOU TO STOP PLAYING WITH THESE KIDS! I'M TRYING TO GET ORDER!!!

Me (incredulous): WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT? THEY ARE IN ORDER BECAUSE OF ME!

evil psycho: MISS VINSON!!! I NEED YOU TO DO WHAT I SAY!!

beautiful princess: I NEED YOU TO STOP YELLING AT ME LIKE A CHILD! I DON'T HAVE TO HELP AT ALL!

evil psycho: ** glare**

Act 1, Scene 2 (the hallway, 2 hrs later)
I see Mark in the hallway. I say hello to him. That Mean Woman comes around the corner.

She says: MISS VINSON!!!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH THAT STUDENT???

I say: Well, actually, he has this theory on the economical impact of....no, I really just say: "What?"

She repeats, louder and more belligerently.
I say: Um? What? He's not *with* me. He's in the hallway. I said hello to him.

lunatic: I NEED YOU TO STOP TALKING TO THESE STUDENTS!!!

sane person: *laughs*

lunatic: MISS VINSON!!!!!!!

sane person: (has already left because no one is around to enjoy the ridiculousness of that statement.)

Moral of the Story: Punk me and I will punk you right back.

I Would Be Honored To Attend?

We have this guy at our school. He runs a mentoring program for boys.
We still have that group of about 20 boys that were running the school last year. They all are in some gang or another. They come to school high and beat each other up. They get in trouble all the time.
The mentor guy has decided to have something like a Bad Kids Forum (with a more PC name). He wants to bring all these boys together and do some group mentoring. In order to get them to come, he told them it is a place for them to come talk about their situations without fear of retribution.
Who's gonna be there? they ask. We ain't sayin NOTHIN to principal.
No. Mentor guy says. Only the people you want to be there. People you think will listen to you. People you trust. You tell me.
Oh. okay. We want you, Ms. Vinson and Mr. Clay. Nobody else.

Is it weird that this warms my heart?

The New Girl Has No Clue

We have this brand new Spanish teacher. She's nice.
I hate her.
She only teaches my kids, the advanced ones. The ones who's biggest problem is talking. The ones who all read on grade level and still say "OOOOOOOOO" if somebody curses.
She complains about them.
Today there was some confusion about whether or not our meeting was at 8a.m. or 9a.m. She actually says to me, "This Is Chaos!!"

No, dear. It's not.

Things That Are Weird In Regular World That Are Regular Here

1. A new kid shows up in class today. He has been on the roll since the beginning of the year, but shows up on the 11th day of school.
"Hey Anthony, where have you been?"
"Home."
"Why didn't you come before today?"
"Didn't mumble want to mumble stayed home mumble mom mumble ain't got no clothes mumble."
"Uh, okay."

2. Shaquell, in 6th grade, should be in 8th: "They said if I don't get suspended anytime between now and Christmas they will put me in my right grade."

3. A kid who threatened another student was then threatened by a teacher who was then threatened by kid's mother. All threats involved bodily harm.

Uninteresting/Unfunny Angry Post About A Mean Woman

My IST: Bane of my existence.
She comes into my room EVERYDAY to make asinine comments about the work I'm giving my kids, and the way she would do things. Well, if you're so worried about the way you would do it, THEN WHY DON'T YOU GO AHEAD AND DO IT. I could use some more free time.
In one of my less professional moments, I told her to write down all of her suggestions so I could sign the paper saying I received them. I will then NOT implement any of them.
Anyway, today I had this, let's just say, FREAKING AMAZING lesson for my 8th graders. We did an activity where they were trading items to simulate the triangular trade. (Aren't you excited just reading it?! ha.) It sounded like the stock market in my room or something. They were sooo loud, but really into the activity.
Mean IST Lady was walking by, so I go to the door and tell her she should come observe them now, so she can see them really excited about learning something. She huffed and puffed and acted like I was causing her problems by making her observe me. What. She came in and stood in the corner and said, "Yeah. okay." and left. FINE!
She then comes to me later with a whole hoard of books. These are the new 6th grade books, she says. I had no idea I was getting them, and they are completely different from the ones I have now. They also come with workbooks. The workbooks make no sense if you don't have the Teacher's Guide. or an overhead projector. And you guessed it! I have neither. She tells me I can't use the old books anymore.
Um, Wanna bet?

You Know You're In The Ghetto When...

"Oh! Look! The ice cream truck!...Oh, nevermind, it's the free needle van."

Heat Day

Most of the schools in our city don't have air conditioning. So, there's a policy that, if it reaches 90 degrees before 11am, we get out of school for a "heat day."
Apparently, on Thursday, there was some confusion about the Heat Day. From what I understand, the television and radio were reporting it before any of the schools knew about it.
My principal, being the genius that she is, announces this at 11:30:
"STUDENTS AND TEACHERS!!!! I have heard that we may get out at noon. I will let you know."
Oh, great. Thanks. Now I will be able to get tons of teaching in. I hope they can hear me over all the WooHooing.
I love me some heat days, but let's wait until we have a definite answer before we announce it to children.

Another one of my principal's many,many perks is her demand for order where order is not really necessary or possible. After she got the word that the kids could leave, we couldn't do it like a normal dismissal, no no.
We had to do it by grade level. Students had to walk in a line, NO TALKING, to their lockers, line BACK up and be escorted to the door by their teacher. 6th graders took 20 minutes, then 7th graders could go, then 8th graders. I had 8th graders at the time, so we spent about 30 minutes staring at each other just thinking, "Oh, no. We're never leaving." They finally got out of there at 1245.
Wooooooooooooooooo Heat Day!

Vocabulary

So, you know how some kids will hear a new word, and then proceed to say it all the time, whether or not it actually fits into context? If you don't know what I mean...well, the story is still funny.
Autumn's word is "feces." I have no clue where she heard it, but she has been telling me for about a week now, "I would turn in my work, but it is feces." "Ugh, Rasheed smells like feces." etc.
I don't know if anybody else had heard her telling me these things, but nobody asked what the word meant. Yesterday, there was a balled up sheet of paper on the ground by her desk. She went to sit down and this is what happened:

Autumn: Ew. I can't sit here, there is feces underneath my desk.

Everyone else in class: AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! FECES!!!!AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!GROSS!! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWW!!!!
WHAT IS FECES??????!!!!!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH
NO REALLY, WHAT IS FECES??????????

Love Can Touch Us One Time...

For some reason, our school district recruits heavily in the Phillipines. We have about 10 teachers at my school from there. Many of them have never been to America before coming here to teach. Mr. C is one of those people. His English is very, very formal and sometimes hard to understand. Except,

this morning when I was walking past his room. Mr. C was, literally, yelling the lyrics to that Titanic song, "My Heart Will Go On." He was all by himself, with the music blasting, head tilted up, his eyes closed, clutching his heart.
Hey, whatever helps you get through the day.

He's What?

One of the hardest parts of teaching is trying to figure out what your kids know and what they don't know. I don't want to spend 20 minutes talking about something just to have them stare at me like I have three eyes.
This week, we were doing a lessons on the Code of Conduct (because I have to) and I told them to write me a paragraph on a person who is their role model. I knew I was going to have to back it up a few steps when Tayshawn's paragraph started out like this:

"Well, my romodel is my dad..."

I Love This Guy

(I set aside this afternoon for lesson planning, hence the excessive posting.)

"The Impotence of Proofreading" by Taylor Mali.
freaking hilarious.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FjhOBiSk8Gg
Has this ever happened to you?You work very horde on a paper for English clashAnd then get a very glow raid (like a D or even a D=)and all because you are the words liverwurst spoiler.Proofreading your peppers is a matter of the the utmost impotence.
This is a problem that affects manly, manly students.I myself was such a bed spiller once upon a termthat my English teacher in my sophomoric year,Mrs. Myth, said I would never get into a good colleague.And thats all I wanted, just to get into a good colleague.Not just anal community colleague,because I wouldnt be happy at anal community colleague.I needed a place that would offer me intellectual simulation,I really need to be challenged, challenged dentally.I know this makes me sound like a stereo,but I really wanted to go to an ivory legal collegue.So I needed to improvementor gone would be my dream of going to Harvard, Jail, or Prison(in Prison, New Jersey).
So I got myself a spell checkerand figured I was on Sleazy Street.
But there are several missed aches that a spell chukker cant cant catch catch.For instant, if you accidentally leave a word your spell exchequer wont put it in you.And God for billing purposes only you should have serial problems with Tori Spelling your spell Chekhov might replace a word with one you had absolutely no detention of using.Because what do you want it to douche?It only does what you tell it to douche.Youre the one with your hand on the mouth going clit, clit, clit.It just goes to show you how embargo one careless clit of the mouth can be.
Which reminds me of this one time during my Junior Mint.The teacher read my entire paper on A Sale of Two Titties out loud to all of my assmates.Im not joking, Im totally cereal.It was the most humidifying experience of my life,being laughed at pubically.
So do yourself a flavor and follow these two Pisces of advice:One: There is no prostitute for careful editing.And three: When it comes to proofreading,the red penis your friend.

It's Like She Reads My Blog

Friday I had to go to a meeting with my IST. I tried to be Zen about it when she handed me a paper with clip-art and typed phrases that say, "I Was Wondering..." that she filled in with things like, "where are your content standards?" and "how come you don't have words on the word wall yet?"
(For those of you not "in the know," a content standard is something like this:

• 6.3.A.1 Locate places and describe human and physical characteristics of those places using geographic tools)

I continued my inner-chanting and meditation as she told me to write out The Entire Content Standard out on the board every day(for each grade. So, three objectives, three homeworks, three warm-ups and three content standards written on the board. Hopefully I will never have to use the board for anything, ever.) I took deep breaths and counted to ten when she told me to laminate FORTY(!!!) sheets of paper about content standards and put them on the wall. (Because that's what "they" will be looking for. They? "They" have never, ever been in my room...much less wanted me to have every single content standard posted.)

But I really couldn't take it anymore when she said," You're doing good. I just really need pacifics. Pacific! Pacific! Pacific! It's what 'they' will want. Make sure you have pacific content standards, pacific MYP standards, and very pacific lesson plans."

Now, if I didn't know for a fact that you can't search for this blog and find it, that you only know about it if I tell you the address, and that she's not that smart, I would swear she was mocking me.

The Most Important Part

My 7th grade class are the best kids that ever lived. Really. Individually and as a class, they are fan-freaking-tastic. My 6th graders are sweet but blah (except for 3) and my 8th graders, well, I love them, but they drive me bananas.

But my 7th graders. Man. First of all, every single one of them watched Barack Obama's acceptance speech. We spent half an hour today talking about it. Thousands of questions. What are democrats? What are republicans? Why are they so mean to each other? Do I have to be one?

And of course, Tyonna pipes in,

"Okay, so, do they like, change the sheets and stuff when a new president comes in? Because that would be gross if they didn't. I'm just sayin'."

"It's Probably Because I Have Her First Period"

So, I don't really talk to teachers outside of inner-city middle school ones, so I don't know if this pertains only to middle schoolers, only to inner-city kids, or if it runs across the board. But I can't tell you how many times I've referred to a kid's behavior with the title statement. "Oh? She's bad for you? Huh. I think she's great, but It's Probably Because I Have Her First Period." I mean, they literally turn from sweet angels into foul-mouthed hellions over the course of 4 or so hours. Scientists should study this. It's insane. I've had a semi-hatred for every single last period class that I've ever had in my entire life, and I've always always loved my first period. I was so pissed when I saw the schedule and that I had my talkative 8th graders last. Damnit! I don't want to hate them...but I will. It's inevitable.

The cousin of that statement is the much hated, "Oh, wow, really? He's never been a problem for me." Oh, thanks. That's helpful.
I'm not absolving myself of this one. I have spent many a minute with a teacher having that conversation. Except my version is more like:
new teacher: "That Jimmy! He is crazy! I have NO IDEA what to do with him! He just cussed me out and said something about being in his face?" *frustrated sigh*
me: "Jimmy! I LOVE Jimmy! He is so funny! I wonder if he still has that pen of mine he borrowed? *wanders off to find Jimmy*
oh well. never said I was perfect.

But I really feel like some teachers get super defensive about the kids' attitudes. Look, nobody is going to think less of you if a 12 year old doesn't like you. They smell. Who cares what they think? Just because Jimmy or whoever likes me doesn't mean I'm a better person or even a better teacher because of it.
I can really relate to middle schoolers. It's a freakish gift. I can't sing or dance or anything so leave me alone!

So Far

The first day of school is really overrated. There is all this build-up, and then really nothing exciting. You can't really tell which new kids are going to be problems, or which classes are going to be the most difficult. There's really nothing to say about it.

My kids are still the smart ones. In fact, my homeroom is the 8th graders. I've known them for 3 years. They talk too much. It's a known fact. They are me as a middle schooler. So, rather than get all upset every.single.day.of.my.life, I've sortof embraced the talking. Yes. They talk. So we have debates and class discussions and they work in groups pretty much all the time. I let them have enough talking that when I tell them to be quiet, they generally are. Other teachers not so much. What is up with thinking that a 12 year old should go the entire day without talking? I don't get it. I'm really big on not wasting my own time, and yelling at them every other minute seems like a HUGE waste of time. They haven't shut up in 3 years, why get so mad about it? Especially since that's basically the only thing they do wrong. They don't fight, they do their work, and they do it well. They are respectful and nice. They're good kids. chill out.
The upstairs kids are still doing their upstairs thing. Still running, still being disrespectful, still completing zero work. Who has detention every day for a month? Yeah, my homeroom. For talking. It makes me want to scream.

Also, we have IST's for the first time in my life. These are Instructional Support Teachers. I guess the idea is that they are there to help you figure out how to teach something and give you resources? Well, she doesn't. I pretty much hate her.
I have big issues with being told what to do in the first place. I don't get why I should get a college degree only to be told EXACTLY what to teach, what to say, everything. I'm sure it works for some people. But no thanks, not for me. I don't go in order of the curriculum, so what. I do lots of projects and they are all my own, back off.
So, right, her mere presence makes me angry. Even when she seems helpful, I'm just so filled with resentment I can't listen. Even when she tells me I'm doing wonderful, it still seems condescending and unecessary. And then today. This woman. She comes in (AGAIN) to talk about my room, my lesson, my seating chart. AND SHE SAYS TO ME,
"just make sure you are really pacific about your pre-assessment."
That's it. I can't even hear you anymore.


And one last thing...(to be filed in that HUGE folder labeled "Crazy Principal"):
So, we had that huge "professional development" on caring and blahblah, yes? On the first day of school, before the students got there, she came over the intercom and told us that we were not, under any circumstances, allowed to talk to the children as they entered the building. They must silently go to their homerooms. I, of course, did not follow directions. But I would love a demonstration on how to "Build Relationships" with children without actually talking to them. Yes, I haven't seen you in 2 months, so I will completely ignore you in order to show how much I care.

Instead of Planning, I'm Blogging

School is starting on Monday. These are things I'm thinking about.

1. I'm the IB social studies teacher. yay!
I have three preps. boo! 6th, 7th, and 8th grade have nothing in common, so I will be planning my butt off this semester. I also only have them for a semester, so I have to cram as much in as I can, meanwhile, having them do 20 jillion projects and hands-on activities so they can have somewhat of a portfolio when these IB Checkers come around to make sure we're following the rules.

2. I can't really get focused. Maybe it's because I spent all of last semester (and the summer) just hanging out, but I really can't get on board with this planning business. Not a good start. I know people usually get really excited about the beginning of school, and I'm usually one of them, but for some reason it's not happening yet. I am so super excited to see my kids again, though.

3. One of the reasons, I know, is this stuff with Gabriel. I think about it all the time. I was worried about him, I saw him and felt better. But this no visitors stuff, I just keep thinking, are my kids really doing this to each other? How can I possibly handle that?
I always said I had to get out before they started killing each other. It's hard to come to terms with the possibility of that actually happening.

4. We got our class lists on Friday. They basically changed nothing from last year. The 7th grade classes that ran the school last year are now the 8th grade classes that will run the school this year. awesome.

5. I know it seems like it, but I'm not really feeling negative about this year. We have a ton more teachers and several new hall monitors, so hopefully things will be calmer. I'm really excited about the 8th graders. We're trying to plan all kinds of things for them. They are the ones that I love the most, hands down. We've been through a lot together. I think my class will be fun, once I can wrap my brain around planning it, because it's going to be project based. Less teaching for me, score.

6. All those kids that I said left the school? They are still on our roll. We'll see if principal was lying.

7. We have metal detectors now. They seem like they're going to be a huge pain. I feel like it's just going to be a whole mess of cellphone confiscation. Oh, and the metal detectors aren't on the main entrance. So, if our little shooter comes to school after 8a.m., they don't have to pass through it. Genius.
But back to the cellphones. I understand it's district policy, blahblahblah, and NO they can't have them out in my class, but I don't really care about the kids having them. Honestly, if I had a 12 year old who had to take 3 buses to get to school, I would like to be able to get in touch with them. I realize many of those phones aren't used for that purpose, but a whole bunch are.

8. You know what gets on my nerves? I make a.whole.freaking.lot. of posters. People ask me to do posters for them. cool. However. If you have never, ever spoken to me, and the first and only time you choose to do so is to say,"Ooooh, make me a poster." We are not friends. In fact, I hate you. Markers, posterboard and free time don't just fall out of the sky.

9. Dear All Other Teachers At My School,
Just because there is a white male teacher in the building does not mean we are attracted to each other. Please stop asking me/wiggling your eyebrows and pointing every time he's around.
Sincerely,
Me

10. I don't think I really have a 10th thing, it just seemed suitable to end on 10. I guess I will again apologize for grammar mistakes. I do not associate myself with the philosophy of proofreading.
theend.

Way Too Real.

Was going to take Taurus up to see Gabriel today. Can't because he's got security stationed outside his door and isn't allowed visitors anymore.

Sortof freaking out.

Lean On Me While I Stand and Deliver These Freedom Writers With Dangerous Minds

(a little bit of a rambling monologue...deal with it)
Sorry if you like sappy go teacher(!) movies. They make me want to barf. Today we had to go to some professional development crap (see previoius post) and the I swear the speaker watched all those movies as prep work.
Let's just get something straight. A kid that comes to me who hasn't eaten breakfast, has on dirty clothes, barely slept last night, with all kinds of family and emotional issues is not NOT going to do fantastic in school because I love/care for him. I can love you all day long, care about you more than anything, but that is NOT going to make you smart. LEARNING will make you smart(er).
Yes, caring is important. I don't get why you would show up every day if you don't care. It is waaay too much of an emotional investment not to care. BUT, caring does not solve all problems and I am really sick of being told that it will. It also bothers me that they think someone is sitting in the audience with a lightbulb (ding!) over their head, "OH! It's because I need to CARE! Finally! The answer!" If you care, you care; if you don't, somebody telling you to isn't going to change anything.
Some guy wrote a really awesome article for the New York Times about that once. I would go to the trouble of finding it, but you have to pay to read it and who wants to do that. Basically, he was saying that all those movies make it seem like all good teachers are a martyr to the cause of teaching. They give up personal lives, they pour all their money back into the classroom, they do nothing but teach, grade and plan. Well, sorry, that's not real life. There are teachers like that, but I ain't one of 'em. And I don't think that makes me a bad teacher.
Those movies also make it seem like the Michelle Pheiffer/Hilary Swank whoever is the only one who is REALLY DEDICATED to the kids and everyone else hates them and thinks they're stupid. Now, maybe I've just been really lucky but I know a whole lot of teachers that do a damn good job. There are the crappy ones, but there's crappy people everywhere, why would the teaching profession be different?

The speaker today told us that the reason for the achievement gap is teacher expectation. OHHKAY. Not poverty, family values, access to materials and resources, lack of nutrition, unsafe neighborhoods and schools etc.,.....no, how I feel about them determines whether or not they succeed.
Again I feel compelled to ask the question, Am I a superhero for being able to solve all the world's problems by simply altering my state of mind or am I too stupid to even write my own lesson plans or come up with my own ideas for teaching?

Please Allow Me To Eloquently Summarize My Feelings About Professional Development

AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

Gabriel

I've known Gabriel for three years. He is one of those kids who is really tall, with big hands and feet and no idea what to do with this huge body. It just seems like he's always flailing about. He is the definition of goofy and will drive you mad in the classroom. He can't be still for a second and he has the attention span of a gnat.
He is also just about the sweetest kid you'll ever meet. You can tell him to sit down and be quiet 30493409384 times, and everytime he'll be geniunely sorry that he can't pay attention or be still. He gets in trouble on an hourly basis, but I've never seen him disrespectful. I've even heard him say something crazy like, "well, Ms. so-and-so gets on my nerves always yellin' but I know she is just tryin' to do her job."
And I, of course, love him to death. He hangs out with Taurus and is in his little merry band of mischief makers.

Today I spent an hour with him in the hospital. He was shot on Friday night twice in the chest. He has a collapsed lung and excessive blood loss. He said, "I can't believe teachers came to see me. I'm so happy."

He said my Trevon did it. I don't know how to deal with that.

What If

On Friday, I was attempting to clean up the mess that is my classroom. I painted one of the walls, even. Well, one of my kids was around. Turns out he is out of zone, but principal told him he could stay if he volunteered to help at our school. The boy was there at 7a.m.
I go into the office and principal says, "RonniAndre is here. Make him do work!"
Okay, sweet.
There is only so much work you can find for a highly distractible 12 year old, but he did a good job. However, while he was helping, this is what he talked about:

What if it rained something else?
What if rained money, would you take it?
What if it rained Mountain Dew?
Would you just open your mouth or would you go get cups to fill up?
What if we did all our classwork on Post-its?
What if you had a pencil sharpener that was big as this room?
What if you had a sharpener that could sharpen pens?
What if you painted the room a different color?
What if you had to paint with tiny little paintbrushes?
What if you mixed water and white-out?
What if I took this white-out?
What if pencils were really big?
What if there were no windows?
What if I was in a class with all girls? Can you get me in that class? Only pretty ones...
What if you put paper all over the walls?
What if you took all that paper from the office?
What if I was principal?
What if you was principal?


I'm sure there were others....but I think I blacked out.

Reason #23928320 Why I Can't Do This Forever

Trevon, Shannon, Tavon and Jimmy have all transferred to other schools. Every single one of them is bad as I don't know what, but I almost started crying!
Tavon is the one that really kills me. I almost want to go to his new teachers and say, "This one's special. PLEASE take care of him."

Oh, and somebody broke into another teacher's classroom and stole 20 boxes of crayons, 10 boxes of colored pencils and 5 notebooks. Kids aren't in the building yet, so it was someone who works in the school (or is working for the school; there's people in there painting and doing random maintenance.) The desktop computer that was in my room is now gone and I went to ask the office if someone had moved it for some reason. "I don't know, ask that new teacher in room 127, he's been taking everything from everywhere."
Now, granted, I've taken a few things in my time. When we first moved into this new building, there was all kinds of stuff in the hallway leftover from the other school, and I took some maps. If a teacher leaves in the middle of the year, nobody hesitates to go in and get some pens or copy paper. But, really? Do I now have to constantly stand over everything? Is the new rule, "if I can see it, it's mine"? Am I gonna have to get like 5 locks to keep my door closed? It's bad enough I can't have anything pretty or shiny because the kids will take it, but now I can't even have functional equipment?!

And, by the way, I still don't know what I'm teaching.

Frighteningly Accurate

So, I just finished reading a book called, "The Corner." It's by the same guys who wrote for The Wire (my fave tv show.) It is a documentation of "a year in the life of an inner-city neighborhood" in Baltimore.
The book is really on point about a lot of things, but this page about teachers giving end of the year grades? Yeah, it is EXACTLY how things happen here. It is so realistic, it sortof freaked me out. (Made me feel better about the fact that WE do it, but more horrible about the fact that it happens so much it's commonplace.)
here it is:
______________________________________________
There’s nothing in writing, nothing for the record, but everyone in the room knows what’s feasible and what isn’t. Three percent can fail, maybe 6 or 8 percent if you want to push it. But the system can’t sustain itself on a 25 or 40 or 60 percent failure rate. So you sit there with your colleagues, roll book in front of you, and you being, alphabetically as always.
"Abbott."
"He’s okay…pass."
"Adams, Monique."
"I saw some improvement at the end of the year."
"Well, not in my class."
"You can fail her there, but I’ve got to pass her."
"Me, too."
"Addams, Robert."
"Lord, one more year and I can adopt him."
"Hey," someone jokes, "third time’s a charm."
"Now way. I’m tired of him tossing books out the windows."
"Well Herbert Thomas sets his on fire and we passed him."
"Please. I can’t deal with Robert."
"Okay, pass."
You sit there for hours, making judgments off the top of your head, all the while sensing the absurdity of the thing…
Now, you sit here going through the motions, pretending that there is a difference between the kids you send to the tenth grade and those left behind. The no-shows are easy enough—if they didn’t exist in your class, they can’t exist now—but virtually everyone else is an open question.
Failing grades in core classes? That alone could disqualify more than half the eighth grade. Achievement, or the lack of it, is not enough of a filter. You factor in class absences, disruptive behavior, and indifference; still, the number of those actually deserving promotion is appallingly low. But next year, there will be another swarm of eighth-graders. And they can’t be taught if a third of last year’s class is hulking in the back of the room.

___________________________________________

Seriously. Change the names and I've had that exact conversation 6 times-at the end of every semester. Isn't that horrible?

and so it begins...

WELL. I went up to the school today. Professional Development begins for us on Tuesday the 19th. The kids come back Monday the 25th.
I went up to start fixing my room. drawers have been broken off, stuff written all the walls, etc. I guess the last teacher to inhabit Rm 119 was not too concerned with any kind of cleanliness or order.
Anyway, I was kind of curious to know which periods I would be teaching and when my planning period was. I asked principal, she said, "I know you have IB Social Studies this semester, but I can't say what periods. Next semester you'll just be regular 8th grade s.s."
Okay, cool.
I'm working in my room and the assistant principal comes in. She makes the schedule. "Oh, hey you have 2 periods of math and one period of character ed (what...) and one free period."
Um, thought I had IB Social Studies? "Well, I make the schedule, so I know!"
oookay.
I go to the IB Department Head. Hey little confused as to how I can get work samples of IB Social Studies together when I'm not teaching it.
"What? Of course you're teaching IB Social Studies. And IB has a different schedule than the rest of the school, so yours is a year course instead of a semester. You'll have the same kids until summer."
I go back to principal. Hey, little confused about what I'm teaching.
"Math! Of course!"

OH OKAY. IT'S ALL SO CLEAR NOW.

We Know Drama

So I guess in this school system, there are something like 60% of teachers that aren't certified. I know that sounds crazy and alarming, but many of them have been teaching for a long time before No Child Left Behind, and they haven't done the things to "update" their certification..or whatever. Anyway, yeah, I'm the most certified teacher in my school. What.
Well, earlier this year, letters went out with the gist of, "Get yourself certified!"
Nobody is beating down the door to be a teacher here, so nobody thought they had to worry about their job.
Well, everybody got fired. Seriously, we lost like 10 teachers at my school alone. It SUCKS. I understand that teachers need to be certified, and I can definitely go on my "being a good test-taker doesn't make you a good teacher" rant...but that won't help! This isn't a theoretical discussion about teachers...this is my life next year and it's going to be horrendous! The teachers that got fired are ones that have been around awhile and can keep their kids in line. Most of our certified teachers are people like I was 3 years ago..brand new. Or they are teachers that have been recruited from foreign countries. These guys are geniuses and probably amazing teachers..but they never get the chance because their kids scream at them all day. They have zero classroom management abilities and the rest of us have to spend the day cleaning up their messes. This place isn't for everybody and if you get chairs thrown at you, maybe its time to leave!
Insanity.

Oh, and the standardized test scores came back. We did horrible. Who is surprised?

Not School, but Still Funny

I went on a mission trip this summer. We were in Nashville, TN playing with kids one day.

I'm coloring with some kids when JaBazz (yeah...) comes up to me. He's six years old. "I need you to color a picture for me to give to my girlfriend. I want it to say my name."

"Okay, what's her name?"

"dunno."

"What's her favorite color?"

"dunno...that's her." He then points to a girl who's about 17 that came with me. Her name is Laurel. I draw the picture, then I have to stand by her as he reaches around from behind me to give her the picture. She never sees his face, and he runs off.

An hour later, he comes back to me. "I need two more pictures, I got two more girlfriends."
He runs off again.

Quite some time later, he runs up to me in the gym. "Heather, I been lookin' for you ever'where! It's my woman...she's two-timin' me!"

"I'm sorry JaBazz. That's too bad." He then tells me I have to go outside with him and see her. We go outside and there is Laurel talking to some other six year old.

"Look at him! I HATE him!"

"I'm sorry JaBazz, but I don't know what to tell you. This seems like a man problem."

"Well I don't know no mans!"

"Okay, well, there's Chris. We can go talk to him about it." JaBazz and I sit on the picnic table. "Hey Chris...I got a man problem. My woman's two-timin' me!"

Chris: "err..uh..what? Do you, uh, want me to talk to her for you?"

JaBazz climbs under the table. "yes please."

He calls Laurel over. She listens to Chris and has to pretend she doesn't know JaBazz is hiding under the table. "Well, gosh, I hope he forgives me! I feel so bad. Do you think he'll forgive me?"

From under the table: "okay. I will!"

Tales from 6th Grade Camp

Us poor schools get shipped up to northern Maryland every year for a free camp. It kind of sucks for me, but I love seeing my kids there.
My favorite memory:

• Bad little Montrell standing in a creek bed cradling his shirt that he has filled with frogs. And the same boy sitting bleary-eyed at the breakfast table the next morning telling me, "Well, our counselor wouldn't let us go to bed until we caught all 14 frogs that got loose in the cabin."

And then, quite possibly one of my most awesome teacher moments:

• We were called over the walkie-talkie that RonniAndre had cursed out his counselor and somebody needed to deal with it. He was told to sit by himself at dinner. While he's sitting at the table, he keeps moving around and trying to draw attention to himself. I walk over to him and say, "Little boy, you better sit down, shut your mouth and eat your food or I will tell every girl in this camp that you pee the bed." He looks at me shocked. "But I don't!" and I say, "Well, who are they gonna believe?" So he starts pouting and shoving in french fries. "FINE!" Well, a few minutes later he starts getting all silly again. So I say, "Hey, Lindsey, Come here." Lindsey walks over to me. "Lindsey, I want you to point at RonniAndre over there and laugh." She looks confused and does it anyway.

RonniAndre was good for the rest of the trip. :)

The Classics

Well, since school is out, there is no mayhem to document here on the blog. So I decided that whenever one of my old stories comes back to me, I'll write it here as a way to keep everyone entertained, as well as let it live forever in internet history. There's a reason I started this blog: two years of ridiculousness that I'm pretty sure I would think was a figment of my imagination 20 years from now.

Here's one:

(While the kids were doing a word search):

"Ms. Vinson, is Bender a word?"

"What? Use it in a sentence."

"Err..Okay." (long contemplative pause) "I don't want to go there, 'cause I already ben der."

Clowns, Tigers and Jesus, Oh, My!

Again with the end of the year activities. On this lovely day it was the circus. Not just your regular circus, no no. The SOUL circus. That's what it's called. I swear.
We strolled in an hour late ('cause that's how all the real gangstas do....or because our buses were late and our principal had to give the kids a nice little raging monologue before they left and then we got lost going across town.) Someone was in our seats. We stood in front of other people for 10 minutes. We got into our seats just in time for....intermission. yaaay.
Then there were some cool acrobat-y people and little Chinese men that jumped around all crazy. After that, they put up the rickiest looking "cage" I have ever seen in my life and I spent the next 20 minutes determining which tiger was going to kill me first, what were possible escapes from this tent in a parking lot and which children would I be willing to throw in front of me to distract Mr. Tiger.
Then those people that swing from scarves on the ceiling came out, and they were great. A couple of other things that were pretty entertaining for a circus.
AND THEN
some loud music....wait, is that gospel music? Yes, yes it is. The "Ringmaster" said, "It's time for us to get back to our roots....the church." Then these mimes come out and do a mime of the gospel song that is playing. What?
I mean, I'm all about some converting the heathens and whatnot, but who's idea was it to hype up some kids on funnel cakes and death defying stunts and then randomly throw in the soul-saving?
OH. SOUL CIRCUS. I get it now.

The Loves of My Life

Dance, Dance

Today we went on one of our many end-of-the-year field trips. This time it was to the skating rink. We took about 80 kids. In case anyone was wondering, the skating rink is EXACTLY THE SAME as it was whenever you were there last. All skating rinks across America are basically identical, as are the children and situations that go on inside. Middle school kids going around in circles and working really incredibly hard at being cool, some succeeding more than others.

The only thing different from the ghetto skating rink and your normal one is what happened about an hour before we left. A huge group of kids had circled up, and some were yelling. At school, this usually indicates a fight. But for those of us who have chaperoned a dance, or basically any time free time, it was as expected: a dance-off. The dance-off consists of everyone standing in a circle, with two people on the inside "battling." The crowd decides who does better, and the one who lost goes back into the circle and someone else comes to battle the winner.

The DJ had realized that everyone was leaving the rink to go watch the dance-off, so he got in on the action. They cleared the floor and proceeded to have the dance-off in the middle of the rink, with the whole crowd standing around deciding who won.

Even after all this time in the ghetto, I've never seen something that was basically a scene out of Step Up. It was amazing.

Today they found kids in the ceiling.

Monopoly Outtakes

Rolling the dice:
"Sweet, seven."
"That's eight, boy. Stay in school."

"So, Baltic is like the ghetto."
"yeah, and you the slumlord, yo."

"Why my house gotta be by the train? I can't get NO sleep."



more to come...

Don't Make Me Go Crazy White Girl On You

So we went to the amusement park. It was pretty awesome. I also got the admiration of all the other teachers with the following encounter:

It was Math & Science Day, so there were tons of school kids there. Tons of Baltimore City school kids. Kids that like to break in line for the rides and cuss out innocent bystanders. There were 3 boys who were in front of us, and they decided it would be okay to let 10 of their friends up there too.

Um, no.

We were in the zig-zag of the line, and as the "leader" passed me. I stuck my hand out.

"Hello, how are you?"

"Uh, fine?"

"Okay, good. We're going to be needing to get in front of you."

"What?"

"Yeah, you're whole group here? You got in front of us, we get in front of you. Cool? Great."

I climbed under the bar and motioned for the other teachers. To which I hear:

"SHIT! Vinson is GANGSTA."

The funny part? by the time we got to the ride, I knew all their names and we got along great. I saw some of them later and they waved and called out to me. I love kids.

Random Updates

• Tomorrow we are going to an amusement park. Wish me luck!

• For some reason, I've been put in charge of hiring teachers for next year. I've already done two interviews. It's way better to be on the other side of the table, but it's weird to be interviewing some people who have been teaching longer than I have. I also see that it's not really about what you say, but how you act. You can really just tell. But, what the hell? Why am I the hiring committee?!

• I forgot one thing about the DC trip: In ther Air and Space Museum, I had to stop my group of boys from trying to fight some man because they "didn't like how he was looking at you, Miss Vinson!" Aw, so sweet. I have my very own posse.

• Trevon's coming back Monday. He is the student who was suspended for 30 days for making people try to fight Taurus. Last year, his father was killed. Ever since then, it has almost been like he's trying to emulate his gangbanging father. He used to be sweet and funny and goofy. Now he fights and orders fights and beats up junkies on the street.

• Shannon is one of my favorites. She's a huge smartass and freaking hilarious. She told me the other day that ever since her cousin died, she doesn't care about anything, much less living or dying. She doesn't care about school, about other people, about anything, what's the point? I literally choked up talking to her. The simple fact that a 12 year old is already so beat down by life is almost too much to take. The next day she got caught with a knife. She carries it in her backpack because people try to jump her at the bus stop on her way home. I probably won't ever see her again.

Thank Goodness for the Gift of Flight

Yesterday we went on a field trip to D.C. My group was about ten kids. In three hours, we visited Museum of Natural History, Museum of Air and Space, and Museum of the American Indian.
We still had about an hour to kill, but they told me they just wanted to sit around and hang out. We went to the Hiroshima Garden, where they proceeded to spend the next hour trying to catch a bird.

Thanks, I Think?

There's something that happens a lot that I always think is so hilarious. My kids will say something about me that is supposedly a compliment, but the way they say it sounds horrified or exasperated.

The girls will say, "You look cute today." and it sounds like, "Ugh, what is that smell?"

The boys will say, "Your skin is so soft. Why is it so soft?!!" and it sounds like, "I have so much homework. Why do I have so much homework?!!" (another one pipes in, "And her hair too!" which sounds like, "And I've got detention!")

Kids are funny.

Odd Dilemma

Here's something I never thought I'd have to deal with:

We're going to an amusement park next Friday. About 10 of the 100 or so permission slips I've recieved look very much like they've been forged. In fact, I would have approached these kids about their "fake" permission slips if I hadn't seen with my own eyes a parent signing a permission slip that looks like an 11 year old wrote it.

Yay! Everybody's going on the trip!