Test Administrator (giving me the tests): "These are consumable, ok?"
Me (walking away): "Got it!  Thanks."
Test Administrator: "That means they can write ALL OVER IT."
Me: "Gotcha.  Have a good day!"
Test Administrator:  "They can highlight it, too."
Me: "..."
Test Administrator: "They can even color in the little faces of the pictures that go with the questions if they want to!" (clever grin).
Me (mentally): What the fuck is wrong with this person??!

Well, it's the end of a semester, which means kids are scrambling to hand in enough late work to somehow gain credit for a course that they, more often than not, have decided is not worth their time. Also, your eyes do not deceive you: the end of the semester and all the midterms come the week after students return from Christmas break.  Don't worry, I bet they all study over those 2 weeks.

My particular favorite amongst these scenarios is a child named "Lance".  A slow, lumbering, sloth-like creature, Lance likes to sit in the back of the class and do nothing.  He came in late the first 6 weeks (like most of my students), but unlike most students, he chose not to make up the tests he systematically failed.  He got an average of a 56.
   At parent conferences, his mother stayed long past her allotted time to inform me that this was basically cheating Lance out of an education, didn't I know he came in late?  And on TOP of that, he's DYSLEXIC!  How can I do this to him?
   I told the mother that I believed the grade accurately reflected his ability level in Spanish, and would only change it under one condition:  If during the 2nd six weeks, Lance did "extremely well" and proved that he was a victim of circumstances the first six weeks.  Well, wouldn't you know he got a 100 the next six weeks?  Turns out it was all my fault; without my constant oppression, Lance is flourishing as a straight-A student.
   Wait, that's not right.  He failed the entire grading period until he scraped by with a 70 after I let him turn in a bunch of late work the day before grades were due (school policy... for success!).  So I did not change the first grade.
    Fast forward, and mom is seething.  She says since I didn't "quantify" my expectations to merit a grade-change, I should change it anyway (I ended up giving him the average of the 2 six weeks = 63 instead of the original 56... after a "strong suggestion" from the assistant principal to change it to passing).  In this meeting with the assistant principal, she also brought up how many "A" students seem to fail my class.  I made the foolish mistake of tactfully suggesting that other teachers are perhaps much, much more lenient with grades than reason should permit.  She looked at me like I had 12 eyes and then changed the subject.

   To really keep up his stellar image, Lance was in a fight in November.  As I approached both boys (on the ground by this point), I yelled "Both of you, come with me RIGHT NOW." The first boy followed, Lance lumbered away as quickly as he could and hid from me in the library.  First boy got a conference with a (different) assistant principal.  Lance got a referral for fighting and disobeying teacher instructions.

   Would you like to see a copy of the rambling email I got from Lance's mom?  I was merely copied on the email, it was addressed to the principal and her boss.  Just imagine reading it on a Monday morning (after being called a "bitch" by a random student in the hallway... just to set the mood):

 

Here is an excerpt from the screenplay for the movie of my job.

Me: (explains complete assignment)
Mike:  "How do you say 'to'?"
Me: "'A.'  Henry, get rid of that ice cream, you know you are not supposed to eat in here."
Albert (to friend): "Whatever the cowboys suck!"
Me: "Albert, stop talking about irrelevant things and do your work."
Albert (slightly lower): "The coach doesn't matter, they just suck."
Me: "Albert, shut it!  You haven't finished your stuff and are about to get a bad grade."
Mike: "How do you say 'to'?"
Me: "A."
Me (in hallway for brief respite) to student listening to ipod and talking on cellphone, ambling through hallways during classtime: "Do you have a pass?"
Student: "I aint got no pass I'm goin' to meet ma friend."
Me: "You cant be in the hallway without a pass, you need to leave."
Student (acting like he's talking to someone else although at this point his phone is closed): "MAN I AINT TRYIN TO HEAR WHAT THIS CHICK SAYIN"
He leaves, I return to class.
Mike: "Um, Ms. Miz??  How do you say 'I go'?" (I taught this concept roughly 3 months ago, with practice almost every day).
Me: "Voy.  Do you have your notes?  It should be in there."
Mike: "I guess I lost them.  Um, how do you say 'to'?  Like, 'I go to...'?
Me:  "A.  So, 'voy a'.  Maybe you should write that down, you keep asking the same question."
Random student: "Cowboys gon' win."
Albert: "No they NOT! They suck."
Me: "Albert!  Shut your mouth!"
Albert (sheepishly): "Sorry miss."
Albert (he has been sitting next to Mike, but not heard any exchange because of his excessive talking, and is now finally starting his work): "How do you say 'to'?"

Bell rings.  Pausing to regain sanity, I glance at the floor as students trample out.  The revolting remains of Henry's ice cream and wrapper fester under his chair. I grade Mike's paper and realize that he has mastered the "a" concept 3 times, and every other time he has used the English word "to."

For the actual movie, this script will have to be  scaled to reflect equally infuriating conversations with over 200 students.

1.  I will be the staff sponsor for freshman cheerleading next year.  It might be really fun or really lame.  All I know right now is that it's an extra $1k in stipend money... woop!
2.  I call this one: The Depths of Triviality

So as you know, I have a "fake" facebook that my students can "find."

I only log in to it about once a month to approve friend requests (the kids get really offended if you dont friend them, even if they are the devil incarnate when you try to teach them).  Imagine my joy when I found this "about me" and "favorite quotes" section on one of my students' profiles:

So the counselors have now given me back all the students who were temporarily transferred to Faraz for Spanish 1.  This makes sense since I will be teaching Spanish in all the periods that I was formerly teaching French, so it's only fair that those kids are transferred back to my class.

If you remember, I had these students (albeit in very over-crowded classrooms) for the first few weeks of school.  We learned pronouns, major verbs, some vocabulary, and parts of speech. 

Today when they got seated, I asked very casually and non-judgmentally what they had covered in Faraz's class.  Silence.  I started prompting them, starting with the things that my steady Spanish classes had progressed to ("Stem-changing verbs? Go-in-th-yo form verbs?"), getting more and more desperate with each minute of silence and blank stares ("Do you know what a verb is? You learned that with ME!") and finally swallowing my hysteria and asking, "Did you have any instruction or assignments?" which was the first question they could answer, and they said, "No."

In a month and a half, they will have midterms that cover six chapters.  Mid-terms that decide my "effectiveness" as a teacher.  Not only were they not taught anything new, they just SAT there and were left to FORGET everything I busted my butt to teach them.

I am planning a dramatic soliloquy that I deliver to Faraz, invoking the pathos that his sheer lethargy and uselessness have cruelly inflicted upon my psyche as they nullify my sacrifice of munificent erudition, perhaps I will be dressed as Jesus, and shame him into abandoning his nefarious ways.  Either that or I will politely ask that he return my InFocus machine that I let him borrow yesterday.  Either way, he must be taught a lesson.

I am really surprised at how I am reacting to the news I got yesterday.

To relieve me of my ridiculous student load, the administration had initially proposed (promised) a new teacher who was capable of teaching regular and native Spanish classes.  I would teach mostly French, and maybe one or two sections of Spanish.

Yesterday, an assistant principal came up to my room, saying that she would stay with the students since the principal needed to see me immediately.  My first reaction, as it usually is whenever the principal asks to see me, was terror that the blog had been discovered.  As usual, I was wrong (the blog lives another day!) and instead I got that news that I would be moved to teaching only Spanish, and a current teacher at the school would take on French 1. 

The new French (former english) teacher is "named" Mrs. Botta.  Mrs. Botta had been teaching French before I arrived at the school, and the reason that I was given her classes was because her CEI (classroom effectiveness index... acronym revival here) was extremely low.  My boss hired me so that the language department wouldn't stagnate at level one, but rather flourish into the higher levels.  More or less, that is what has happened despite some major obstacles: the French program took off.

When I told my supervisor the news from the principal meeting (supervisor was absent otherwise she would have been there already) she almost cried.  She literally put her head in her hands and sighed.  I realized this was working out much better for me (smaller classes, less preparation), but the department would suffer quite a bit.

When I got back to my room, I got started replacing all the french student work with spanish stuff. As I started pulling down the first poster, I realized that I wasn't stressed, I wasn't angry, I wasn't indifferent... I was extremely sad.  I started analyzing this since I was so surprised, and the reasons popped up pretty easily: I've worked really hard! I got to know the kids! The shocking thing is, I've never related to my job like that.  I've heard other people do it, and I've seen it on cheesy teacher appreciation plaques.  But this job has always been an interim money-maker while I finish my degree and move on to bigger/better things.  I guess it still is.  But now I recognize I'm much more attached than I thought I was.

Had a pretty good time with teacher-date over the weekend, but I don't think we're about to have a relationship.  I'm currently having a depressing day-mare where we get married in the school... nononononononoNO.

You know who else had fun with teacher-date?  Well not really with him personally, but evidently over the weekend a bunch of kids broke into his portable and went absolutely postal.  Graffiti on walls/ceiling/floors, desks thrown, files trashed, everything.  He doesn't think it was his students but I'm pretty sure they at least go to this school.  The weird thing is, the graffiti insults were aimed at "DUM FUKING FRESHMAN," so why trash a teacher's portable to scare freshmen?

The district officials were called and as far as I know, that's the end of that story.  Did you catch the spelling issues in the graffiti excerpt?  The first two are obvious, but even high ranking officials at this school can't seem to work out the complex details of grammar pluralization anomalies:

So, Faraz got his way.  He is keeping his first period exactly how it is.  However, I'm still happy, because to do that he had to give up his planning period.  So my classes (Spanish at least, French is still effed) are down to a measly 30 students each.  Well, ok.

Things that made me laugh today:
I always speak completely in French and motion to the english cues on the board to make sure the students understand.  When I hand back work I like to encourage the students for good grades.  Today I handed back an assignment to a little mexican boy, he had gotten a 98, so as I handed it to him I said, "Très bien fait, Chris, c'est excellent!"  He took his paper with a blank look and said, "What does that mean miss?"  I was about to answer him when I was interrupted by the little gangster behind him saying, "SHE SAID YOU UGLY FOOL!"

Also, whenever the students want to ask permission for anything, they have to do it in french.  The most common phrases they master right away are "Peux-je aller aux toilettes?" (Can I go to the restroom) and "Peux-je écouter ma musique?" (Can I listen to my music?).  One misguided kid got mixed up today and asked today asked if he could listen to the toilets.  I had a good chuckle before correcting him.

Tonight I'm going out with another teacher at the school.  It was all arranged through text messages and absolutely zero actual contact since the students have been trying to "hook us up" ever since I started working here and would love to have some dirt on us.  This afternoon though, he came in after school to clarify something, and there were two students here, and it was really obvious... hmmmm. Oh well.

So, after reviewing numbers of students in classes, the administration proposed the idea that we merge two of the Spanish 2 teacher's classes so he can teach one section of Spanish One (let's call him... Faraz).  Currently I have 244 students and he has 180.  This would even things up.

Faraz and I used to get along extremely well, although our teaching methods vary greatly (he's the teacher who passed "Julius" in Spanish 2 when Julius could not even spell 'hola' with me in Spanish 1... no exaggeration). He's 27, really smart (speaks Farsi), and gets along well with students (probably because he passes them no matter what... but I digress).  My first year he was really great to me, whenever I had problems with student behavior or anything he would take that kid into his room for however long I needed (one kid stayed for weeks).  We would sit next to each other at staff meetings and pass notes about how redundant and awful everything was.  Life was great.

One day last year, Faraz and I both went down to Austin on the same weekend with separate groups of friends.  We danced and had a few drinks with the group and went home separately (of course!  what kind of girl do you think I am?).

After that, I started getting text messages from him that were along the lines of "Stop playing games" and "Why are you such a tease".  I told him I thought we were just friends and had no idea that he considered it more than that.

Big mistake.  He fired back that he would "just stop trying then."  Since then, my hallway greetings go unreturned, and in department meetings he refers to me in the 3rd person even if I'm right there.  Cool.  He did, however, when asked by our department chair, trade my tables for his desks, allowing more students to fit into my room.  "Maybe things are turning around!" I thought, stupidly.

Today I checked my "alternate" facebook, the one with my real name that students can "discover" and think they have all my info and pictures (the spring break pics, by design, will never be found by students ;)  Well lo and behold, there is a message from one of my former Spanish 1 students who is now in Spanish 2 with Faraz.  She writes:

The assignment: 16 Spanish sentences about yourself, with a drawing.
The student: Jermaine
The giveaway that he was copying: the statement "My name is Paul." (click to enlarge).

Here's a copy of the email I sent to my supervisor.  We'll see what happens.

Hello!  Not sure if there's anything you can do about these, but they are the problems that persist after counselor visits:

1.  (Name of Student) is in my Spanish class.  His IEP states that he is mentally retarded.  He is functioning at a very low level and I feel like I am really discouraging him, I feel strongly that he is not capable of doing this level of work.  I sent him to get a schedule change in the first few weeks and they said no. Thoughts?

2.  Name of Student and other student are in identical quandaries.  They are upper-classmen, classified as ADHD, have done zero work and vociferously oppose being in my class.  When sent for a schedule change, they are told that they need this class to graduate.  They don't want to be here, are not in IB, and are making it hard to teach in already challenging conditions.

3.  Student XYZ  has been in my class for several weeks, yet is not on my roll or grade speed.  Student ABC (I have no records to get his ID from, Spanish class) is in the same boat.  They are both good students and are turning in work but I assume will have either failures or I's on their report cards.

4.  Today I received another new student.  We have learned almost 4 weeks of material yet I am getting new students every single day.  I realize patience is required, but the redundancy of explanations for new kids is adversely affecting the students who are here already, not to mention the nightmare of assessments and grading.

5.  Name of Janitor came by and asked how many more chairs I needed.  I do not need chairs (I told him this).  I need desks.  When I kept asking about desks he said, "Ok, so, six chairs, is that ok?"

6.  Is there another room I can use to teach my classes?  I am willing to tailor the learning so that it may be presented in the library or auditorium.  Currently the heat is exacerbated by the number of students and I am frequently sending them to the hallway to alleviate the discomfort in the classroom.  I realize that this is not a long-term solution but seems to be a long-term problem.




More funnies with unfunny stuff blacked out:

 

1.  More students
2.  More heat

We had a staff meeting this morning in which we were told that for each failing student, the teacher must have documentation that she gave the student multiple opportunities to succeed, and additionally must contact the parent to discuss the grades, and Keep a Log of all parental contact.

On the surface, this seems fine.  At least, it's nothing new.  Teachers have always been expected to stay overtime (unpaid), beg, call home, do whatever possible to make sure the students pass.  When that doesn't happen and the student inevitably fails (It's just so hard to get those passing grades when you're expected to turn in the pesky work!  And if you do one assignment, they will just give you MORE! I mean, what kind of place is this?  Students just can't win at this school.), the punishment by the administration on the teachers is so incapacitating that the teacher will usually pass the student anyway. 

So, okay, I'll do all that.  Let's just go to the old gradebook, ok, generate failure report, yes let's do that, and OMFG.  ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTY FIVE STUDENTS FAILING.  Christ are you kidding me?  I have to write interventions for and call the families of 125 kids?!?!?!!??!  Most teachers don't even have 125 kids total.  Out of mine that many are FAILING?

Yes.

While I stew in my own rage and slowly get cooked in my crock-pot of a classroom, I leave you with this:
It's picture day today and the kids are acting adorable and self-conscious, especially the trouble-makers.  Hehe.

p.s. We are candidates for the international baccalaureate program.  The only thing between us and the distinction as an "IB school" is a visit from the board of IB.  Can't wait til they visit my classroom and see this madness.

Well.

It's been 4 weeks of school, and all the schedule changes that were supposed to occur... well, dream on.  The picture is grim: I have 230 students (more than double normal load, more than triple most other teachers'), a tiny room, and lots of problems (ex: student enrolled but not in class.  student in class but not enrolled.  repeat with new set of students every single day).  Did I mention there is no air conditioning STILL?  I had to go out and buy industrial size fans (not exaggerating).

Last night I stayed at the school until 9pm to meet the parents.  They were all (*cough* extremely *cough*) impressed with the class website I set up and how I'm handling the scheduling issues.  However, they are upset: kids in the wrong classes means kids with messed up schedules and not enough credits for high GPAs.

So, the students groan and sweat through class with 40 other students each period.  I groan and "glow" while placating myself by reading emails from the principal saying that it will "soon" be worked out.  The parents get frustrated.  It's been going on for four weeks and is now at a fever pitch.  I walked into the bathroom in the teachers lounge today to find 2 (female of course) teachers hovered over a cell phone.  They looked up suspiciously, saw it was just me, then went back to the phone.  I went into a stall and heard one start to sob, the other comfort her, then the first unleash a string of profanity that was actually quite creative.  The problem?  Sounded something along the lines of being over-worked, cussed at by students, and unsupported by administration.  The only clear words I heard were, "And I don't care if she's a vice principal, a principal, or the super superintendent.  You can't TREAT people like that."

As I write this, I'm conflicted.  I realize how awful my working conditions are.  Yet, I'm surrounded by the languages I love, most of the students are sweet, optimistic young rascals that make me laugh, I am paid well enough to live, play, eat, and travel whenever and however I want.  I'm very, very happy.

Although I wouldn't mind if the administration, who has all that and more, would do what they are paid a whole lot to do.  When I brought up the AC problem again, the administration said with a straight face that it would cost five million dollars to fix.

Five.  Million. Dollars.