"My mother knows I don't use periods, so I don't even care."

Well.
The kids are in the computer lab typing their research papers on social issues. We spent three days in the library researching, and two days in the computer lab typing. Their papers have to be 500 words. I taught them how to use the "word count" function in Microsoft Word, so I have to get word count updates every five seconds.
Plagarism is a huge HUGE HUGE issue. I get it. It wasn't that long ago that I was typing papers. I want to go back and ask my teachers, was it so completely obvious? My kids will copy/past entire paragraphs. In the past four days, I have said, "IF YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT THE WORD MEANS, DO NOT PUT IT IN YOUR PAPER!" about, oh, 3948320948093483204i32 times.
So, we'll be in the computer lab, a kid will raise his/her hand to say they are finished. I will walk over, start reading the essay and then find a big word. "Uh, Taylor, what does it mean to have democratic values?"..."Ummm, it means...uhh..."
Right, you're aren't finished.
Everyone else will just sigh and go back to work (using the "synonym" function to try and find a word they do know). Oh, but not Tre. Tre's issue was the death penalty. He told me he was finished. I asked him if he knew all the words in his paper. He said, "most." I told him I wasn't coming over there until he knew what his paper said. Five minutes later, he says he is finished. I walk over.
"Tre, what does 'consulted' mean?"
"It means, like, the same as assaulted."
"No. it doesn't."
"Well, it does to me."
"Tre, I can call this keyboard ice cream, but it's still a keyboard and it's not ice cream."
"Uggghhh. Can't you just look at the rest?"
"fine." 5 seconds later "what does 'a moral issue' mean?"
"that's what the librarian told me to put so I put it."
"But what does it mean?"
"I don't know. She told me it."
"IF YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT THE WORD MEANS, DO NOT PUT IT IN YOUR PAPER."
"Well, you said 500 words, and I wrote 500 words, so I don't even care."
"You don't care that you have an essay that you don't understand? What about this part, it says, 'is the death penalty the death penalty is'?"
"It's two separate sentences."
"Where's the period?"
"I don't use periods when I write."
"Tre, is this the essay you want to turn in to me? Because if it is, I'm going to have to have a conference with your mother."
*See title.*

All You Need Is Some Blood and Guts

It is a bad time of year to be teaching 8th grade. They are so ready to be out of there, but there's more than a month left of school. They don't care about anything. I swear I could be at the front of the room saying, "The answer to all of life's problems is..." or "Tomorrow's lottery numbers are..." and most of the class would still be talking or drawing doodles or making googly eyes at somebody else in the class.
We're talking about the American Revolution, so I showed them "The Patriot." We talked about all the ways it was wrong (you know, like how the entire war is not one dude's revenge mission) and I kept pausing it to show them important parts of history (how the British and Americans fought, the bundling bag, etc.) They LOVED it. And I don't think love is too strong of a word. After Mel Gibson kills 20 guys all by himself, they were hooked. I would even warn them, "this part is going to be gross, so if that bothers you, you'll probably want to look away." That just made their attention more rapt.
I had people crying when one guy died, and at the end, one entire class stood up and cheered.
I don't want to be THAT teacher. The movie teacher. Ugh. The thought disgusts me. But wow. For three whole days all of my classes were at full attention.

Blowin' Smoke

1. I walked into the office and the secretary told me that Deonte was in trouble, he was allegedly smoking weed in the bathroom. She asked me to go ask him if it was true.

He was sitting in a chair in Principal's back office. I didn't go all the way in, I just kind of stood at the doorway and whispered his name. He looked up, and I mouthed to him, "were you smoking?" and made the "smoking" motion with my hand.

His answer:

"Um, ehh...not reaaally."

2. Rakeem came into class with his eyes half closed. I asked him if he was okay,and he said, "Ehh, heh, heh, yeaaaah. Do you have anything to eat?"
Riiiight. I sent him down the hall to another teacher, who just so happens to be his uncle. "Rakeem is looking a little funny today."
Rakeem comes back to me after school to tell me that it was his allergies that made him act that way. "Yeah, that would be a fantastic excuse if it didn't take you FOUR HOURS to come up with it."