Friday, April 22, 2005

The End.

this isn't worth reading but i just have to shout...


my group of testers were pretty good, except for the sleazy "i'm 24, still in high school, and i gel my hair rather than wash it" boy who made a disgusting comment to me.

we didn't do anything today in my regular shortened classes except play hanged man. which was interesting because my kids can't spell. i laughed a lot.

Thursday, April 21, 2005


Monitoring is really boring. Especially when your kids take 3 hours to take a test. Oh wait, 3 hours and 45 minutes. And what do I have to show for monitoring, monitoring, monitoring? May I present to you Anything but the Test: A Guide To Procrastination During A Standardized Test.

1. Examine pencil. Discover every groove, study the eraser, and pick at the stray pieces near the tip.
2. Stare at ceiling. Study every punctuation or dirty spot on ceiling tiles.
3. Study room. Everything in the room is covered with purple butcher paper, so just study the purple paper like it's floating or something.
4. Study hair. Hold hair pieces in front of face or run fingers over one strand, over and over and over.
5. Pop neck, back, fingers about 10 million times.
6. Nod head up and down in rhythm with silent song playing in your head. Nod your head so hard that your green and blue pigtails swing back and forth. Grin sheepishly when I glare at you for distracting others.
7. Play with your bright red sandals. Let a sandal dangle off your toes. Set the shoe down, run your toe carefully around the rim, and then dangle again.
8. If you are a boy sitting near Red Sandal Girl, watch her foot with hormone-induced interest.
9. If you are the hefty boy sitting in back row, try to cross your eyes by staring at pencil in front of your face.
10. If you are Strange Bird sitting near the aisle, try to write on your skin in pencil by tracing a heart over and over and over.

Sorry reader, but this post is giving me flashbacks and now I'm bored. I'm outtie five thou. But when I return, I shall write about my students insisting on buying me an alcoholic beverage. It's strange and disconcerting.

Monday, April 18, 2005

and that's the truth, ruth!

TAKS. sucks.

Sunday, April 17, 2005

observations and confessions

My feelings toward my sociology classes have calmed a bit. I haven't had the time to write due to a hectic personal life. However, life is about to mellow out a bit--perhaps even become boring-and I'll have lots of time to rant and rave and laugh over my little darlings.
*see star below if you are a grammar expert--leespease.

News: I'm teaching summer school. Why? Because I need the money, yo. I'm a little nervous about teaching a room full of kids for 4 hours straight. I taught Saturday School and by noon I was ready to kick those little munchkins out the door. I'm hoping Summer School kids act differently because they pay to be there. Saturday School kids did not pay... even though you'd think they'd have been on their best behavior because they were getting a six weeks worth of credit in 12 hours (three weekends). Don't worry, they still complained and tantrumed.

On my mind:
In sociology the other day we discussed the self-fulfilling prophecy as part of our unit on ethnicity and race. We were on some morphed tangent when I expressed that, as a child, prison/jail was this abstract place of punishment because I did not know anyone who'd been to jail. Meaning, none of my family members have been to jail. Most of my students were stunned. I knew I was taking a risk mentioning this. My kids love me and I have great relationships with them, partly because they've accepted that I'm "not no normal white lady." If they realize that I've lived an upper-class, white life they'll lose trust in me (and judge the book by its cover). For example, when I mentioned that I went to a more reputable public high school here in town, it was over for me. They were sure that I liked that place better and wondered why I demoted myself. I nonchalantly expressed that I like my current school way better and, truthfully, I always hated my former high school. It's taken a while for them to believe that I actually like the "poor school" better than the "rich one."
By admitting that jail has not been a prominent factor in my life, I drew a dividing line between me and many of my students. I tried to frame the discussion by telling them I was going to "be real" with them and used a confessional voice to make my point. I think my instructional point was made because after their initial surprise they began to nod their heads. If I want my kids to really listen to me and to use their lives as a mirror for society, they have to trust and identify with me. Ruby Payne writes about the importance of relationships in the classroom and I have to agree. In my sociology classes we discuss a lot and I depend on relationships with my kids (trust) to help them question and examine existing structures in society. If they see me as "some white lady", they won't trust me to go on a "academic journey," if you will.

*The dork in me is kicking to come out... If I interject something into my sentence--like this--, do I use two or one of the little dashes after the last word? Help me teachers. Please.