So, like I said, the black cloud of test prep left me....momentarily. I was informed yesterday that I will be TEACHING SCIENCE FOR THE NEXT THREE WEEKS. The past six weeks have been reading/language arts. That was horrible. But I could
fake it. Reading. I do that. SCIENCE??? No. Nope. Not at all. The 8th graders have to take a science MSA on April 22. They had science last semester. They didn't pay attention to their teacher. They don't know any science. Like, AT ALL.
I am supposed to teach them all of middle school science in the next three weeks. sweet. The science IST came to me and said she has lessons for me. A bunch of videos. I am supposed to teach this monday. I have seen none of these
lessons she has. She doesn't come to work until 9am. School starts at 7:45.
Today, I anticipated the fact that no one would prepare me for something I know nothing about and they are forcing me to do, so I asked her if I could have a set of science textbooks. She really looked at me like I all of a sudden started speaking Chinese. "What? Why? Why would you need that?"
SERIOUSLY? seriously. Seriously?
Well, I said, you know for vocabulary and INFORMATION. Since I don't know anything about middle school science.
"Oh, well, okay. I'll try to find something."
Gee, thanks so much for all your help.
Saturday, March 28, 2009
MSA TESTING: DO NOT DISTURB
wow. yeah. been gone awhile. Prepare for an onslaught of posting.
we just finished our standardized testing this week, so the dark cloud of teaching test prep was gone and things were looking up. But then I remembered where I work. But I'll get to that in a minute. A few other things first.
-The testing schedule was, of course, completely stupid, but whatever. I had to take my homeroom class upstairs and get another class and bring them down and test them in my room. In the process of all this moving, Somebody tells a kid in the class that I am getting, "Wow, y'all are lucky. You get to test in Ms. Vinson's room." Everybody's favorite IST, Ms. Sperry, (who's in the hallway) says very loudly, "WHAT IS SO FREAKING SPECIAL ABOUT MS. VINSON?"
Wow, bitter much?
Later on, she asks me if I heard her say that. Well..seeing as how I was STANDING RIGHT THERE. She then says, "Oh, haha. I mean, do you give them food or something?" What are they, stray dogs? No, I don't give them food so they'll like me, LADY.
And while we're on the subject of the lovely Ms. Sperry...
I have this kid. Jaquan. He's kind of a whiny jerk. But, I have discovered that as long as he is not hot, he'll at least attempt his work. So my classroom has two fans. One is the "Class Fan" and one is the "Jaquan's Fan." Jaquan will stroll in, assemble his workstation of desk, chair and fan in the corner and do his work. Ms. Sperry was all in a tizzy. "Why does he get special privileges? Why are you treating him different?" Blahblahblah. LOOK! maybe it's not perfect. But here's the deal. I have to work in this building everyday and I have to NOT have
the desire to blow the place up. If kids treated me the way all these other teachers get treated, I would feel inclined to BLOW THE PLACE UP. So, if Jaquan needs a fan and a corner to get his work done and not be an asshole, THEN THE BOY IS GETTING A FAN. I don't think it is an unreasonable compromise. OH! and I believe it is MY classroom.
Right, so, moving on. I was having a conversation with another social studies teacher. This teacher told me that Ms. Sperry told HER the story of Jaquan and his fan, but said it like I'm doing something wonderful. Something along the lines of, "Well, all of Ms. Vinson's students are always on-task and working. I don't know how she does it! She even lets a kid have his own fan so he'll do his work. Maybe you should observe her classroom to see how she does it."
I swear her goal in life is to make me think I'm crazy.
we just finished our standardized testing this week, so the dark cloud of teaching test prep was gone and things were looking up. But then I remembered where I work. But I'll get to that in a minute. A few other things first.
-The testing schedule was, of course, completely stupid, but whatever. I had to take my homeroom class upstairs and get another class and bring them down and test them in my room. In the process of all this moving, Somebody tells a kid in the class that I am getting, "Wow, y'all are lucky. You get to test in Ms. Vinson's room." Everybody's favorite IST, Ms. Sperry, (who's in the hallway) says very loudly, "WHAT IS SO FREAKING SPECIAL ABOUT MS. VINSON?"
Wow, bitter much?
Later on, she asks me if I heard her say that. Well..seeing as how I was STANDING RIGHT THERE. She then says, "Oh, haha. I mean, do you give them food or something?" What are they, stray dogs? No, I don't give them food so they'll like me, LADY.
And while we're on the subject of the lovely Ms. Sperry...
I have this kid. Jaquan. He's kind of a whiny jerk. But, I have discovered that as long as he is not hot, he'll at least attempt his work. So my classroom has two fans. One is the "Class Fan" and one is the "Jaquan's Fan." Jaquan will stroll in, assemble his workstation of desk, chair and fan in the corner and do his work. Ms. Sperry was all in a tizzy. "Why does he get special privileges? Why are you treating him different?" Blahblahblah. LOOK! maybe it's not perfect. But here's the deal. I have to work in this building everyday and I have to NOT have
the desire to blow the place up. If kids treated me the way all these other teachers get treated, I would feel inclined to BLOW THE PLACE UP. So, if Jaquan needs a fan and a corner to get his work done and not be an asshole, THEN THE BOY IS GETTING A FAN. I don't think it is an unreasonable compromise. OH! and I believe it is MY classroom.
Right, so, moving on. I was having a conversation with another social studies teacher. This teacher told me that Ms. Sperry told HER the story of Jaquan and his fan, but said it like I'm doing something wonderful. Something along the lines of, "Well, all of Ms. Vinson's students are always on-task and working. I don't know how she does it! She even lets a kid have his own fan so he'll do his work. Maybe you should observe her classroom to see how she does it."
I swear her goal in life is to make me think I'm crazy.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
These Are The Parents I Love
So, Shykia has been giving several of her teachers troubles. She's rude and loud and doesn't do her work. They had no way of contacting her mother. They did not know she had a brother in the 7th grade.
I did.
Yesterday, another teacher and I spent our planning period finding her brother, finding out how we could get in touch with his mother, finding his teachers to get the numbers they have for him and, finally, getting in touch with the mother. She was scheduled for a parent conference this afternoon.
Shykia, who isn't rude to me, but is loud and always late (I have her first period) came in EARLY today, sat down, did all her work and spent 45 minutes having this conversation with herself:
"I don't even care though, really, I mean it's just a meeting. It's just a meeting. I don't even think anybody will say anything bad. Well, maybe Mr. F but nobody like him anyway. Ms. Vinson, you gon' say bad stuff? Hey, Josh, you better not talk or you'll get a meeting. But its okay, I don't care, it won't be bad or nothing. I been doing my work. I do my work right Ms. Vinson? I mean, I might be loud or something but I get my work done. I ain't worried though. It's just a meeting. Why would I be worried? I'm not worried..."
About 20 minutes in, I had to go stand in the hallway because I was laughing.
I did.
Yesterday, another teacher and I spent our planning period finding her brother, finding out how we could get in touch with his mother, finding his teachers to get the numbers they have for him and, finally, getting in touch with the mother. She was scheduled for a parent conference this afternoon.
Shykia, who isn't rude to me, but is loud and always late (I have her first period) came in EARLY today, sat down, did all her work and spent 45 minutes having this conversation with herself:
"I don't even care though, really, I mean it's just a meeting. It's just a meeting. I don't even think anybody will say anything bad. Well, maybe Mr. F but nobody like him anyway. Ms. Vinson, you gon' say bad stuff? Hey, Josh, you better not talk or you'll get a meeting. But its okay, I don't care, it won't be bad or nothing. I been doing my work. I do my work right Ms. Vinson? I mean, I might be loud or something but I get my work done. I ain't worried though. It's just a meeting. Why would I be worried? I'm not worried..."
About 20 minutes in, I had to go stand in the hallway because I was laughing.
Well, It All Started With The Fire...
...in the bathroom. So we had to evacuate the building. It was 30 degrees outside. The kids had no coats. We were there for about 20 minutes.
When we came back in, a teacher and a student got into some sort of altercation which left the teacher with a bloody nose and the girl with a scratch on her face from the teacher's rings.
Fast forward to half an hour later. There are about 20 people crowded in and around the office. The girl's mother and family have shown up. So have the police. The girl's mother tries to attack the teacher and has to be restrained. She gets arrested. Somehow, all the furniture in the office gets broken.
The girl's mother then has some sort of asthma attack/hyperventilating/something in which the ambulance has to be called. So, we've watched a handcuffed, kicking and screaming woman walk past my window and then we watch a stretcher and 4 EMT's walk past my window. By this point, I have completely given up teaching and we're all just trying to covertly find out what is happening.
Then, 4 of the police officers rush out of the office into a classroom because a seventh grade class has a child throwing desks and about 10 girls screaming at the top of their lungs. I Still don't know what happened there.
Then, there was a food fight on the 2nd floor.
Four of my best students were in huge ridiculous fights.
Five girls came to me at different times crying, all for different reasons.
All this before noon.
Then, after school, we had an "emergency" faculty meeting where we got yelled at and told not to let this happen again. Her exact words were, "Today happened because of YOUR inability to be leaders."
When we came back in, a teacher and a student got into some sort of altercation which left the teacher with a bloody nose and the girl with a scratch on her face from the teacher's rings.
Fast forward to half an hour later. There are about 20 people crowded in and around the office. The girl's mother and family have shown up. So have the police. The girl's mother tries to attack the teacher and has to be restrained. She gets arrested. Somehow, all the furniture in the office gets broken.
The girl's mother then has some sort of asthma attack/hyperventilating/something in which the ambulance has to be called. So, we've watched a handcuffed, kicking and screaming woman walk past my window and then we watch a stretcher and 4 EMT's walk past my window. By this point, I have completely given up teaching and we're all just trying to covertly find out what is happening.
Then, 4 of the police officers rush out of the office into a classroom because a seventh grade class has a child throwing desks and about 10 girls screaming at the top of their lungs. I Still don't know what happened there.
Then, there was a food fight on the 2nd floor.
Four of my best students were in huge ridiculous fights.
Five girls came to me at different times crying, all for different reasons.
All this before noon.
Then, after school, we had an "emergency" faculty meeting where we got yelled at and told not to let this happen again. Her exact words were, "Today happened because of YOUR inability to be leaders."
Sunday, February 22, 2009
I Really Hate When People Don't Update Their Blogs
I've been super blah about school lately.
Our standardized tests are coming up in the middle of March, so IST is back on my case. I'm not allowed to teach any Social Studies, only MSA Prep. Awesome. I don't know if you know this, but I can teach "main idea" and "elements of a narrative" using social studies material.
UNACCEPTABLE!
This is a hypothetical of my life for the past 2 weeks:
"Hello, class. Today we are going to learn about Algebraic Functions. But instead of teaching you algebraic functions, I'm going to give you a test on Algebraic Functions. And after you all fail that, tomorrow I will give you another test. I will then go over test taking strategies such as 'do not spend too much time on any one problem' and 'do not make random guesses.' I will proceed to do this for the next three weeks until the Very Big Important Test takes place, giving no consideration to the fact that you are confused or dying of boredom. On that day, I will feed you crackers and demand silence so that you can finally pass your test. Any questions?"
It's draining me.
Our standardized tests are coming up in the middle of March, so IST is back on my case. I'm not allowed to teach any Social Studies, only MSA Prep. Awesome. I don't know if you know this, but I can teach "main idea" and "elements of a narrative" using social studies material.
UNACCEPTABLE!
This is a hypothetical of my life for the past 2 weeks:
"Hello, class. Today we are going to learn about Algebraic Functions. But instead of teaching you algebraic functions, I'm going to give you a test on Algebraic Functions. And after you all fail that, tomorrow I will give you another test. I will then go over test taking strategies such as 'do not spend too much time on any one problem' and 'do not make random guesses.' I will proceed to do this for the next three weeks until the Very Big Important Test takes place, giving no consideration to the fact that you are confused or dying of boredom. On that day, I will feed you crackers and demand silence so that you can finally pass your test. Any questions?"
It's draining me.
Monday, February 9, 2009
Sometimes the Nonsense Makes My Head Explode
My last period class comes to me from lunch. Let me be clear. They are my last period AND they are my after lunch class. So, for those of you who aren't teachers, let me lay it down for you. THAT SUCKS. The after lunch class is usually looney tunes, and so is the last period. And for me, they're both the same class. wonderful.
Also today, it was 50 degrees outside, and 90 degrees inside. Temperature control is not a feat we have mastered in the Baltimore City Public School System.
And another also, the lunches at my school are crap. I may have mentioned this before. I mean, they are terrible. They are microwave meals that are microwaved 30 minutes beforehand and then carted over from another building. yummy.
ALSO, the cafeteria is a stinky, hot, loud, dirty, gross, oppressive place to be. There aren't really cafeteria rules, but there's usually 3-4 adults in there yelling about who knows what. So, anyone who asks (and who I like) can eat lunch with me. I don't care. I know a few other teachers who do this. (We have to keep it on the low, this would make Principal veerrrrrryyyy angry.)
Anyway, I say all of that to say all of this. I usually go get my last period class from the cafeteria. Most of them come with me. I'm not a cattle herder. If I walk into a loud mess of a cafeteria, I'm not going to go up to each individual student in my class and attempt to bring them to my room. I come in cafeteria, my presence is announced, I leave with most of my class behind me. Okay.
Those that don't come right away, either they didn't hear/see me come in, or they spend their lunch period elsewhere. Whatever. They usually get to my room within 5 minutes, they come in without talking and get started on their work. I can deal with this. It's not perfect, but I see these kids cursing out everybody else, so I think I got it pretty good with the 5 minute leeway and the not cursing and the work doing.
I am wrong.
Today I bring my kids down. Five minutes later, principal is in my doorway with two boys. "MISS VINSON!!!!!!!!!WHY ARE THESE BOYS LATE COMING INTO YOUR ROOM?"
Well, I don't know. See, they're LATE.
MISS VINSON DO YOU PICK UP YOUR CLASS FROM THE CAFETERIA???
Yes.
WELL THEN WHY ARE THEY LATE?
*sigh* *eye roll* I don't know.
DO YOU PICK THEM UP?
yessss.
FINE.
She then proceeds to take them to the office and suspend them for two days. And yell at me to call their house and tell their parents about how terrribbblle they are.
But see, here's the thing. They aren't terrible. And also, I'm pretty sure being suspended is their punishment. And also, I'm pretty sure how I run my classroom is my business. AND ALSO, if they were on any other floor this wouldn't be a problem. It's total crap that kids coming to my room get treated differently than they do when they are upstairs.
And how stupid is it to SUSPEND somebody for not going to class? HELLO. That's what they were doing! Oh, you don't want to go to class? Well, now you CAN'T go to class! SO THERE!
Also today, it was 50 degrees outside, and 90 degrees inside. Temperature control is not a feat we have mastered in the Baltimore City Public School System.
And another also, the lunches at my school are crap. I may have mentioned this before. I mean, they are terrible. They are microwave meals that are microwaved 30 minutes beforehand and then carted over from another building. yummy.
ALSO, the cafeteria is a stinky, hot, loud, dirty, gross, oppressive place to be. There aren't really cafeteria rules, but there's usually 3-4 adults in there yelling about who knows what. So, anyone who asks (and who I like) can eat lunch with me. I don't care. I know a few other teachers who do this. (We have to keep it on the low, this would make Principal veerrrrrryyyy angry.)
Anyway, I say all of that to say all of this. I usually go get my last period class from the cafeteria. Most of them come with me. I'm not a cattle herder. If I walk into a loud mess of a cafeteria, I'm not going to go up to each individual student in my class and attempt to bring them to my room. I come in cafeteria, my presence is announced, I leave with most of my class behind me. Okay.
Those that don't come right away, either they didn't hear/see me come in, or they spend their lunch period elsewhere. Whatever. They usually get to my room within 5 minutes, they come in without talking and get started on their work. I can deal with this. It's not perfect, but I see these kids cursing out everybody else, so I think I got it pretty good with the 5 minute leeway and the not cursing and the work doing.
I am wrong.
Today I bring my kids down. Five minutes later, principal is in my doorway with two boys. "MISS VINSON!!!!!!!!!WHY ARE THESE BOYS LATE COMING INTO YOUR ROOM?"
Well, I don't know. See, they're LATE.
MISS VINSON DO YOU PICK UP YOUR CLASS FROM THE CAFETERIA???
Yes.
WELL THEN WHY ARE THEY LATE?
*sigh* *eye roll* I don't know.
DO YOU PICK THEM UP?
yessss.
FINE.
She then proceeds to take them to the office and suspend them for two days. And yell at me to call their house and tell their parents about how terrribbblle they are.
But see, here's the thing. They aren't terrible. And also, I'm pretty sure being suspended is their punishment. And also, I'm pretty sure how I run my classroom is my business. AND ALSO, if they were on any other floor this wouldn't be a problem. It's total crap that kids coming to my room get treated differently than they do when they are upstairs.
And how stupid is it to SUSPEND somebody for not going to class? HELLO. That's what they were doing! Oh, you don't want to go to class? Well, now you CAN'T go to class! SO THERE!
Sunday, February 8, 2009
The Class of 2009
Well, sorry that I haven't been blogging. Sometimes I just don't feel like there is anything to say. Or sometimes there is something to say, and I feel like I *should* blog it, and then I get mad because I think the blog is holding me down...clearly I have commitment issues.
Anyway, I'm teaching my 8th graders. My children. I love the others too, but I really have a special relationship with these guys. The other ones are good and cute and smart. These guys have issues out the wazoo. Most of them seem to have Multiple Personality Disorder. They are either laughing, crying or screaming, with really no in-between. I like the crazies, what can I say.
For me, this is further proof that I could never work at a regular school. Teaching kids who wait patiently for directions and do all their work? Boring. Finding out why Nina won't stop crying, forcing Taurus to sit in my room so he won't fight Darrell, giving Mason food, trying to figure out ways to trick them into doing work without it seeming like work, letting Akil do his Black History paper on George Jackson and the Black Guerilla Family so he can learn that gang origins started with social change not the drug trade, engaging in psychological warfare so I don't have to yell but I can still get them to be quiet, grabbing ears, making sure Nikeal and Deonte don't try to make out when we go to the library, just getting them to pay attention for 5 straight minutes...man, I love that stuff. I don't know what that says about me. I guess I need kids who need me right back.
I'm also in charge of getting all their 8th grade activities together. In Baltimore, 8th grade is like 12th grade. 8th grade graduation is a big deal, they have a prom, the works. At first, I thought this was ridiculous, that you were basically giving them a reason to drop out. But I'm okay with it now. Baltimore is also different because you have to apply and be accepted to the high schools. So, most of these kids won't see each other anymore after this year. But most importantly, *I* won't see them after this year. It's going to be terrible. I've gotten too attached. I know it.
There's this scene in "The Wire" where the assistant principal tells Prez to get his own kids and stop worrying about his students, because they'll go their own way and there's plenty more behind them. I find this both true and really, really depressing.
Anyway, I'm teaching my 8th graders. My children. I love the others too, but I really have a special relationship with these guys. The other ones are good and cute and smart. These guys have issues out the wazoo. Most of them seem to have Multiple Personality Disorder. They are either laughing, crying or screaming, with really no in-between. I like the crazies, what can I say.
For me, this is further proof that I could never work at a regular school. Teaching kids who wait patiently for directions and do all their work? Boring. Finding out why Nina won't stop crying, forcing Taurus to sit in my room so he won't fight Darrell, giving Mason food, trying to figure out ways to trick them into doing work without it seeming like work, letting Akil do his Black History paper on George Jackson and the Black Guerilla Family so he can learn that gang origins started with social change not the drug trade, engaging in psychological warfare so I don't have to yell but I can still get them to be quiet, grabbing ears, making sure Nikeal and Deonte don't try to make out when we go to the library, just getting them to pay attention for 5 straight minutes...man, I love that stuff. I don't know what that says about me. I guess I need kids who need me right back.
I'm also in charge of getting all their 8th grade activities together. In Baltimore, 8th grade is like 12th grade. 8th grade graduation is a big deal, they have a prom, the works. At first, I thought this was ridiculous, that you were basically giving them a reason to drop out. But I'm okay with it now. Baltimore is also different because you have to apply and be accepted to the high schools. So, most of these kids won't see each other anymore after this year. But most importantly, *I* won't see them after this year. It's going to be terrible. I've gotten too attached. I know it.
There's this scene in "The Wire" where the assistant principal tells Prez to get his own kids and stop worrying about his students, because they'll go their own way and there's plenty more behind them. I find this both true and really, really depressing.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Malfunction Junction
So, the new semester has arrived at last. I teach 3 8th grade classes and so far they are pretty fantastic. I'm so glad to have only one prep and to not be teaching IB, it's fabulous.
It was pretty awkward there for a minute. 90% of these kids I'm teaching now, I taught in 6th grade also, but not for 7th grade. So, when they found out they were coming back to me, some of them were literally yelling. YAAAAAAY WE GET TO COME TO YOU!!! YAAAAYYY!!! AHHHHHHH!!!
Uh, see, here's the thing, lovely children. You remember me from last year, when I didn't teach you? and we talked and hung out, I gave you field trip permission slips and food. You forget I had to yell at you for most of 6th grade. I'm sure things will take a drastic turn once they realize I'm not actually handing out cookies and A+'s every day.
But anyway, let's get on with the malfunction.
How's this for retarded.
-One of the classes I'm teaching? Yeah, they had social studies last semester. I was told to "just start back at the beginning anyway, they didn't learn anything." Awesome.
Two of the social studies teachers in the building, they keep their same classes. So, about 5 classes have social studies all year. The rest of the school only gets it for a semester.
-My homeroom, the one who already had social studies, has been put in Music 2nd period. The Music teacher put in her 2 weeks notice...a week and a half ago. So, that means I'll spend most of next week standing in the hallway waiting on a substitute to come for Music.
-Whenever anyone tries to point out this, the administrators get all defensive like we just said their kid was ugly.
-I've already gotten in trouble because I think it's ridiculous to walk 35 8th graders in a silent straight line up 3 flights of stairs for lunch.
-The IB authorization people are coming Monday and I could not be more ready for it to be over. Now, the school coordinator just comes in my room every few hours and screams, "MAKE IT IB IN HERE!" and then leaves. Nobody ever told me what the hell that even means, so I just nod.
It was pretty awkward there for a minute. 90% of these kids I'm teaching now, I taught in 6th grade also, but not for 7th grade. So, when they found out they were coming back to me, some of them were literally yelling. YAAAAAAY WE GET TO COME TO YOU!!! YAAAAYYY!!! AHHHHHHH!!!
Uh, see, here's the thing, lovely children. You remember me from last year, when I didn't teach you? and we talked and hung out, I gave you field trip permission slips and food. You forget I had to yell at you for most of 6th grade. I'm sure things will take a drastic turn once they realize I'm not actually handing out cookies and A+'s every day.
But anyway, let's get on with the malfunction.
How's this for retarded.
-One of the classes I'm teaching? Yeah, they had social studies last semester. I was told to "just start back at the beginning anyway, they didn't learn anything." Awesome.
Two of the social studies teachers in the building, they keep their same classes. So, about 5 classes have social studies all year. The rest of the school only gets it for a semester.
-My homeroom, the one who already had social studies, has been put in Music 2nd period. The Music teacher put in her 2 weeks notice...a week and a half ago. So, that means I'll spend most of next week standing in the hallway waiting on a substitute to come for Music.
-Whenever anyone tries to point out this, the administrators get all defensive like we just said their kid was ugly.
-I've already gotten in trouble because I think it's ridiculous to walk 35 8th graders in a silent straight line up 3 flights of stairs for lunch.
-The IB authorization people are coming Monday and I could not be more ready for it to be over. Now, the school coordinator just comes in my room every few hours and screams, "MAKE IT IB IN HERE!" and then leaves. Nobody ever told me what the hell that even means, so I just nod.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
we also join hands as brothers and sisters.
Every MLK day, I make the kids watch/listen to the "I Have A Dream" speech.
And every MLK day, I have to give the same answer. Towards the end of the speech, when everyone in the room slowly turns to me, wide-eyed.
"No, I do not know personally the 'vicious racists' of Alabama."
And every MLK day, I have to give the same answer. Towards the end of the speech, when everyone in the room slowly turns to me, wide-eyed.
"No, I do not know personally the 'vicious racists' of Alabama."
Saturday, January 17, 2009
I'm Going To Die
So, the Lang. Arts teacher and I were commissioned to hang up a bajillion flags all around the hallway. (This makes us "international"). As we were hanging the flags, I suggested we loop a few through the ceiling tiles.
Principal looks at me and says, "oh, no no no, heathaaaaah. we don't want to stir up the asbestos."
Principal looks at me and says, "oh, no no no, heathaaaaah. we don't want to stir up the asbestos."
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