Letter to Summer

Why must you leave me so soon?
We were just getting acquainted again after our long sojourn.
You used to be full of days in front of the TV, watching movies over and over for the 50th time.
Now you're like a long weekend.
I hold tasks off for the weekend, but I never get around to them.
Et tu, Summer? Et Tu?
Should I feel special because I still get to have you to myself when others don't anymore?
Should I feel jilted because I'm so easy to dismiss, to leave?
Should I feel grateful for the time that we do have?
Why must our relationship be one of love and hate?
I look forward to you, but you're over too soon.
I enjoy the weather ... for the first few weeks. Then you burn me.
Am I so easy to burn?
Are you a season or a vacation time?
I wish Autumn was my vacation time, just as I'm sure you wish I was tanner.
Plans fall through. Weight is gained. The cons ...
To be fair, it's not your fault, Summer.
You can't help that we're so close to the sun when you are here.
You can't help that we have a habit of wanting something and then forgetting that we still have to work for it.
I get to see my family.
That is wonderful.
That is why I love you.
Our ups and downs, they are like the roller-coaster ride of any relationship.
I'll miss you until next year, Summer.
Please don't stay away so long this time.

Poooooe-taaaaaaa-toe

Classic I told my students today (first day with no seniors) - I heard the same one when I was their age so I had to perpetuate it further!

There was a freshman, sophmore and senior escaping from their high-security alternative school. In pursuit, the administration utilized one of the school's mascot - a bloodhound. The dogs bayed as they caught the scent of the escapees. Frightened of the obvious consequences, the convicts hid in the first places they found.

The freshman hid in a pen of cows, ducking behind a nursing calf and her mother. The sophmore lept into a stable of sheep, laying on his belly to avoid detection. The senior, thinking that hiding in a more enclosed space would be wiser, jumped into a large barrel nearby.

As the administration neared, they used their keen "teens-are-nearby-doing-something-bad-sense" (as well as the bloodhound of course) to hone in on the approximate location of the delinquents. They were counting on the canine and pure guilt to do the rest.

As they approached the pen of cows, the dogs signaled that there was something amis. Hearing the approaching footsteps, the freshman let out his best impersonation of a cow, "Moooooooo!" Figuring that the hound was just attracted to the cows, the adults moved on.

As they approahed the sheep, another dog stopped and signaled his detection of something suspicious. After hearing a low, gutteral "Baaaaaaa" they came to the same conclusion and continued on.

Approaching the barrel, the bloodhound once again indicated the presenence of one of the convicts. Taking a cue from the others, the senior whispered a confident, "Pooooooe-taaaaa-toe."

I ATE them!

Context: My last class of the day - a bunch of squirrely kids to begin with.

Quoted: Kelsee (one of my many currently pregnant kids). She and Ashlee are VERY pregnant (8 months-ish). They happen to be in the same class and are always talking about food. I'm not over-exaggerating. ALWAYS! She once had a kanipchen-fit because I started chewing my last piece of gum in front of her.

Devin: (spoken in a dazed, slightly light-headed tone): "Dude, I shoulda played hookie."

Mrs. G: (raising eyebrow cynically) "You basically did - you've been sleeping the whole time,"

Ashlee: (head pops up from desk as if someone had just shouted "Fire!") "Did someone say cookie?!"

Kelsee: (spoken without missing a beat with a famished tone) "No, cause I ATE 'am all!"

Entire class: Laugh for a good 5 minutes, someone finds a cookie and the girls split it.

Kelsee: **Sigh** "Ha ha ha. Yeah ... but seriously, I wanna pizza."

More Heartfelt ...

Recently, I've discovered that I am a part of my district's "Reduction In Force" for the 2011-2012 year. My greatest immediate concern is for my kiddos and how they'll react to the news. I've been torn between wanting to tell them (so that they have a heads up and don't sign up for courses solely to be with me) and keeping it from them as long as possible (so that there's minimal classroom management drama, etc). Well, thanks to some co-workers, ALL of the staff in my building knows about me being RIFed. They were able to keep it between themselves and staff members - until today.

I have a student in my 6th period who, I'm sorry to say, rubs me the wrong way. This boy to me is akin to styrofoam rubbing against itself in a long car ride ... just out of your reach. He once told me that he sleeps and causes a rukus during my class because he doesn't like me. Curious, I asked for clarification, "Just for the sake of curiosity, why don't you like me?" "Because you stand with your hand on hip. I don't like that." This was the beginning of our very special hate/hate relationship. Of course, the first student to find out was this kid.

Well, Jason came up to me today (when he was supposed to be working in his group) and said, "Mrs. Grachek - you're not coming back next year?!" Oh, crap. "Who told you that?" After naming the Chatty Cathy, I told him, "No, unfortunately I won't be here next year - but keep it to yourself, okay?"

Because it was supposed to be secret, of course the girl in the front row paid attention for the first time in a long time, "WHAT?! You're quitting! WHY!!" I tried to talk to her to calm her down before she alerted the entire wing of the school. "I'm not quitting, honey - they're letting me go." "I could see the explosion in her brain, "WHY! You're the best teacher ever!" "Because of the budget, sweetie. They had to cut someone and I'm the low man on the totem pole."

Jason piped in, "But Mrs. C has been here for only a year, why don't they let her go and then you can stay?" "It's just in my department J, just FCS."

He paused for a while and pensively stated, "I'm going to miss you Mrs. G. I feel bad for you," with a big grin on his face. "Sure you'll miss me, Jason - just like you miss a boil on your butt." It was the weirdest thing then, his grin disappeared and he looked at me as seriously as he did when he told me he didn't like me, "No Mrs. G. I'm totally serious, I'll miss you." "Thanks Jason, that means a lot."

If this is a taste of what is to come, I'm going to be in trouble.

"Mrs. G - I like your jeans"

"Thanks B, these are my old, fat lady jeans. Super comfy though!"

"Mrs. G, you're not fat."

"You're sweet, but yes I am. I'm okay with it."

"You know what I do when my friends say they're fat?"

"Punch them in the face?"

"Yep. Are you my friend, Mrs. G?"

"That's a negatory babe."

(silence accompanied by a surprisingly menacing glare)

"You're my kiddo and I heart you, but we're not going to go to the mall on the weekends."

"Are you fat Mrs. G?"

(combination of star-down and eyebrow lifting contest)

"... no ma'am."

Life's Labor ...

Placenta-tastic
(click comic above - wicked funny)

In Child Development we were going over the stages and process of labor. Of course, there are a thousand questions. Some okay, some creepy, some "whoa, what?" A sampling of my favorite questions and responses:

#4
"I know that contractions are supposed to be like cramps, but I already get really bad cramps ... " [question?]
"Uh ... it will get worse. Much worse."
"Dang, I never wanna have kids then."
"Good."

#3
"THAT's 10 centimeters?!?!?! I thought that it was 10 inches!"
[Insert somewhat sinister laugh] "Nope, that's why giving birth is a process, not a water slide."

#2
"Is it true that everyone poops?"
"Yes, I believe there's even a book about it ..." [insert giggles from me and my students]
"No, I mean when they're giving birth."
"Ooooooh. Nope, but lots of people do. It's not that big of a deal - they typically expect it actually."
"Gross. I wouldn't, I'd be so embarrassed."
"I imagine you'll be more concerned with trying to squeeze an 8 pound baby through your vagina."

#1
"The third stage is the delivery of the placenta."
"What does it look like?"
"Um, a cross between a raw cow's liver and a bloody booger."
"Eeew [pause to think] What do they do with it?"
"Well, usually it's just disposed of as medical waste, but sometimes people take it home."
"Why?!"
"Some people plant a tree over it so that the nutrients of the placenta will nourish the new tree. Some people even eat it. I found a recipe online once for placenta lasagna." [Entire class makes gagging sound]
"Can you buy them?"
"No, you have to grow your own."

And just like that ...

I'm happy to report that my students and I have a very healthy, joke-based relationship. It's a good stress reliever (especially when they think I'm kidding when in reality I'm calling them out on some dumb-ass thing they just did.)

One of my favorite examples of this phenomenon is found in my class on almost a daily basis. Allow me to set the scene: one teacher, 25+ students, classwork (not homework) being passed out and explained.

Kids set to their default whining, "Mrs. G - can I just do [insert BS, lazy short-cut here]?" "Nope" "Why not?" I used to explain things to them about the learning process and Bloom's Taxonomy and how this method will help them learn better than if I just gave them a worksheet or something. About halfway through my explanation eyes would glaze over and I'm fairly sure more than one child entered some sort of suspended-animation state of unaware existence.

I have learned my lesson, my mother was right (don't tell her). Some variation of "because I said so, so shut-up and do it" gets the job done with less work on my part and less drooling on theirs.

Back to the situation: classwork handed out, student looking for short-cut, answer is no, kid wants to know why.

New standard response: "Because I'm old and mean." Inevitably this is followed by a sympathetic but unthinking, "Aw, Mrs. G - you're not mean!" Ouch. "And you're not passing anymore!" A giggle reassures me that they think I'm kidding - just wait for the progress report kid ...

The Bouncy Balls

Best senior prank ever ... way better than letting 10 chickens loose in the school last year! During my first period class I sent a student out in the hall to "look sad" because she had angered me. What? You don't do that?

Anyway, as she returned minutes later she popped in the door and announced, "Dude, there are balls outside!" The customary giggles ensued, then I sought clarification in my customary way ... raising my eyebrows and stating "Quoi?" "Seriously, there are like a million bouncy balls out there!" A child in my own right, I quickly sent three students out with plastic bags to "do me a favor and get some balls!" Again, the giggles - but who cares?! I get balls!

When the chosen ones returned, there was treasure a plenty - a plethora of balls for everyone! Being the clan leader, I of course kept most for myself, but I did choose to share my booty with all of my students. Apparently, this was not the most intelligent leadership decision I would make that day. Ten minutes later, they were still not on task - they were playing with their balls. I had to announce, "Okay guys, put away your balls and get to work." I giggled (wouldn't you?)

Minutes later all but two students were back on task. Approaching the first easily distracted young lady, I stated, "I know you're having fun, but there's a time and a place - you need to put your balls away ..." [insert giggle again] She acquiesced. I then approached the second student, a young man. "Dude, you need to stop playing with your balls and get to work," did I mention that he's the only male in the class? After the onslaught of giggles were quelled by my raised eyebrow, I turned to him again only to see that he continued to play and seemed to have no intention of conceding.

Finally, I stated, "Okay, hand them over, you can have them back at the end of class." "Mrs. G - stop trying to take my balls!" was his well-worded response. [Oh, good. This will go well.] "I don't want them, I just need you to give them to me so you can focus better." "Why do you want my blue balls?!" Because the lack of creativity in this response, I sent him outside to the hall to look sad.

Five minutes later (after I had forgotten about him being out there), one of the other students declared with astounding steadiness in her voice, "Mrs. G, can Austin come back in? I think he's done playing with his balls in your class." Another students piped in, "Yeah, you put them in your desk, remember?" "And there they shall remain!"

Oh, God ... she's back.

As a child of the 90's who graduated high school in 2003, it was a general consensus among my generation that the 80's were the absolute worst decade for clothing and fashion in the 20th century. I know people who dressed as Cyndi Lauper for Halloween - not because she's a great singer, but because she was the archetype for the fashion disaster that was the 1980's. So what do we see passing for fashion now? Mini-Cyndis. Sadly, it's not a joke, it's not on homecoming's "Crazy Dress" week, it's not even a cry for attention ... it's their fashion. Am I getting old or is our society to the point of regressing? I know and have taught that fashion ideas cycle around every 20-30 years, but it's much more traumatic when you see the Halloween of your past prancing around in your room 8 hours a day. Happy Halloween kids!

Twisted Mother Goose

One of my favorite assignments in Child Development is when I have the students do some creative writing using one of the 8 Alternative Conception Options we learn about (i.e. In-Vitro, ZIFT, Artificial Insemination, Surrogacy, etc).

Below is one of the best from today's class as written. As you read it, keep in mind that there is only one male in the class, and he had the honor of saying only the words in parentheses ... try to imagine that if you will.

**Be warned: it is not a happy ending, and it's a little crude. **

Sex with Jack and Jill

Jack and Jill went up the hill to fetch a pail of "water" (sperm)

They had a few hurdles because Jack was infertile

And he wanted to soon be a father.

Jack fell down and broke his "crown" (penis)

And Jill needed his sperm

But there was none to be found.

They needed a donor

Because of Jack's broken (boner)

And they wanted a baby around

And with an idea quite terrific,

They went to the clinic

And Jill got injected with semen

And with her hopes up,

She got knocked up

And found out the following weekend.

And with bruises and headaches,

A little heartache

(Because frankly, irony kills).

The saddest thing since they married

Jill had miscarried

Because Jill had once more fell down the hill.

We've Got Spirit!

"Well class, on Monday we're going to start learning about male and female reproductive anatomy, menstruation, and conception so that we can have a deep understanding of prenatal development. I have a special box here [enter box with key terms written on the side: uterus, endometrium, sperm reservoir, testes, glans, urethra, etc] and you're able to put the questions burning up your little minds into the box without feeling all ... shall we say ... exposed."

At the mention of the word "uterus" the only male in the class of 25 students utters a simple, "Ew"

"Careful Austin, you're surrounded by 25 uteri ...

"We're going to do a penis cheer and then on Tuesday we're going to do a vagina cheer -"

One of the more vocal girls interjects, "What - like a cheer-cheer."

"Well kinda, it's more like when we go through the key terms I say the word and you repeat it ... with zeal ... and spirit-fingers."

"Dude - I'm not doing that."

"If you do it you get a sticker."

"Really? [momentary pause as she considers the possibilities] Is it a smelly sticker?"

"Nope, but it's pretty."

"Dude, I love stickers."

"Then bring your spirit-fingers on Monday!"