There's an App for That! Part 2

Two days later, I am blessed with Biology Honors classes. The gentleman, who I substituted for prior, and I have spoken. We discussed his "sweathogs" and yes, he remembers Welcome Back Kotter.,

Abut midday, during our lunch periods, he rushes in all excited. The Mystery of the malfunctioning projector has been solved. There is nothing wrong with it. He details how it happened to him, just the same as my experience. Funny thing was that the teacher whose room it is doesn't have a problem.

However . . . 

It has been discovered that one or more students in the 1st period class have downloaded an application to

their cell phones that can cause the projector to go on or off at their will, and to their delight.

Another male teacher bursts in excitedly to report that kids in his classes are also doing this, though it is difficult to discover which students are involved without constantly wardening and hoping they think no one is watching so that they will activate the app in front of him.

The department chair enters. She has just overheard the revelation. The men quickly depart as the bell is about to ring. We watch them go, and then I turn to the department chair. She has a grin on her face. It probably mirrors mine. I have to grin. I tell her, "If I were their age, I would be all over such a prank." She agrees with me.

If there is an app for that, who knows what they will devise next?? Wonder if it works on red lights?

There's An App for That! Pt #1

Today I'm working for a teacher I know. Somehow, I thought his students would be nice ... like him. Am I naive or just foolish?

No, these are sweathogs. Pure blooded.

We begin class with a bell-ringer cast onto a pull-down screen by on overhead projector. I have finally figured out how to work one. These are NOT the overhead projectors of 15-20 years ago. These are complicated. Yet today, every few minutes, sometimes in seconds, it goes off. I worry with it over and over. Finally, I resort to writing on the board. 

Almost in unison, the kids tell me that no one is allowed to write on the board. I tell them that's okay because No ONE has told me this rule, therefore I will write and not worry. They really insist. I write on. Is only two questions. Before I can finish, the projector comes on and the questions are projected onto the board over what I am writing. "It's okay," I say, determined not to let this apparent malfunction get the better of me, or the teacher's lesson instructions. Throughout class, it continues to come on intermittently. I turn it off over and over.

I note this problem in my report to the teacher as well as to the teacher whose classroom this is...for today, I am a floater.

During this "odd" day 1st period, I am snipped at by one young man in particular. I don't understand it. These are all new students to me. I have no prior relationship with them. Before the almost 2-hour period ends, he has cursed me for no reason, other than maybe I am an authority figure.

Being the recipient of foul language is difficult. To not react require patience and experience and more patience. I have learned during my subbing career to bide my time if at all possible. Relax. Allow the anger to drain away on the part of all parties concerned. Then, I review my choices. What will benefit the kid and me  I decide upon a Plan A and if that fails (as it always has in the past) a Plan B. Actually Plan B is my first choice, but Plan A is the student's final chance.

(How I wish those little electric shock guns were legally allowed. :D 

The clock hands move slowly as I collect papers. At approximately 3 minutes till the bell, while we are all standing near the door (myself included since I have to rush to another building), I speak softly to the young man. "Kevin, I need to speak with you when the bell rings." His eyes meet mine. He has heard me, and there will be no possible denial of my request later. 

Of course, I'm figuring he will rush out and that will be one more infraction to add to his discipline referral. I plan to write it up as soon as I am settled in my next class. I still have the attendance sheets and will be able to get his student number of of the class roll.

He doesn't even wait for the bell. He initiates the conversation with me He does all the talking. He apologizes for his behavior and his language and begs forgiveness.

OK, I'm a sap.  A pushover. I accept his apology but there's more. He's asking my forgiveness. Actually, I'm having this inner battle. He's asking my forgiveness. I have to accept it. Didn't the LORD forgive me for a whole lot more? I forgive and tell him so. Tell him it takes maturity to apologize and humility to ask for forgiveness  I add that I respect him for his confessing his trespass. Gives me warm fuzzies. I am sure he feels redeemed.

Not Yet...

It's just first period of an odd block day.I have a Biology class. These are good kids, I've been told.

I meet them at the door. Smile and greet them. Most find their seat rights away. They are chatting. it's okay!

Somewhat nervously I await the bell, my "You're Up" signal. While waiting, I examine their faces for clues of what kind of day I will have with them. "Are they kind? Will they be sweet? Not so loud?"

A very wise teacher once told me that most all teachers are introverts with an extreme desire for self-torture.

Maybe that's true.

I love the act, but fear the audience. Did any famous actor ever murmur that? Probably not, but this is definitely stage fright.

The biggest hurdle is that there is no rehearsal for my act of the hour. The heart races. I've had just a few minutes to go over my script, to locate my props, to briefly think through locating that which is missing. To improvise ....

The bell rings and it's Lights, Camera, Action.

I go through my spiel. Ask for quiet while I call roll, fearful of butchering first names. Like Yael. Got it right but wonder if the parents didn't know the spelling or they were just looking for unique? Maybe they attended  Yale??? Maybe she was conceived at Yale????

I run across Anyeli. Huh? I don't even take the chance of badly mutilating that one and quickly call out the last name. Thank God the last name is a well-known one. After "here" resounds, I inquire as to how the first name is pronounced. Sounds nice. Definitely NOT like it is spelled.

I simply don't want to embarrass the kids by mispronouncing their names. I don't want to give others a reason for fun-poking. "Not nice, Precious." Instead, I accept full-blame. I admit to being "name-challenged." This causes the young minds to concentrate on trying to figure out what I've just said.

And then it's on to the script.

There is no dishonor or shame in reading the teacher's plans. I often write the instructions on the board, too, just in case I forget what they are supposed to be doing, or if they claim they didn't know what the assignment was. Lots of distraction sometimes gives way to forgetfulness.

If they are doing seat work, I occasionally walk the aisles. Why? Because that was what I did as a full-time teacher. That was a way to keep them on track, to answer questions, to correct mistakes  Today I do it just because it helps to maintain civil decorum. It has become a part of my "act." Sometimes I can answer their questions. Sometimes I get an idea for a story to tell them, an anecdote that is somehow related to their current study that may cause a smile, a grin, a wince. Other times, I find encouraging things to say, to compliment hand writing or pretty hair, maybe matching colors in a boy's attire. Not too personal.

It is 3rd period now, nearing the end of my 2nd nearly 2 hour block.Fifth period will be half the time -- and then I will be routed to the Social Studies wing for a long 7th period. Yes, I wonder what awaits me there, but choose not to think about it. Not yet.

Another Day In The Jungle

This brings to mind Tull's "Bungle In The Jungle" -- and yes, they probably do that here, too. But today, at least this morning for my first 2-hour block, I have a Drafting/Architecture class. It is roughly the size of two and a half to three average sized classrooms, filled with computers and various machines. Blue print printers, copiers and a "light machine" are also in this classroom. And there are only 17 kids.

Most are doing their work -- not sure what that is as I don't have any lesson plans and no attendance sheet. Maybe five boys are yapping and playing computer games. I see the same game on each of their screens. Seems to be about shooting, like a war game, but with a desolate setting. Their chatter reminds me of young buck deer challenging each other with itty-bitty antler nubs.

They were happy to see me this Monday morning. Well, maybe not me personally, but they exclaimed with delight over the absence of their teacher.

Before the period is over, all seventeen of them are playing the same game. I ask what it is called and they tell me, "Halo." They are calling to each other to perform this move or that and congratulating one another on a good kill. Some are riding in jeep-type vehicles...all on the same team.

As I watch all of them happily doing their game playing, I wonder if maybe I should tell them that there is probably an out-of-sorts IT man at the district office tracking their every move on the net this morning? Naw.

This is a great example of team sports. I believe it is indeed instructional, teaching how to interact with others in order to accomplish goals. And I think they all deserve As.