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.

The Rodeo!

Am on a 6-day assignment with the same classes. Environmental Science. Ninth graders! Their teacher quit. A new one has been hired but it takes a long time for clearance.

They are studying "dirt." Actually, the subject is soil .... I have a little fun with the subject. Agree with them that I find dirt boring. The only good dirt is removed with soap and water. I note that at the top of one of the worksheets, there is a column labeled, "What is soil?" It reminds me about what I just recently learned in a Marine Biology class at another high school. Regurgitation is one of my specialties.

Hey guys, I see you are studying "How Soil is Formed"....I don't know much about dirt (I emphasize the word), but I can tell you about beach sand. (That's what I thought - perks their attention!) There's this little reef fish, forget its name....might be Dory, not sure....but it goes around chewing reef(er) (I softly add the er ending, which causes others to tune in to what I'm saying), and it excretes sand. (They don't understand "excretes" and I get these "what the" looks.) Okay, excrete....means to eliminate bodily wastes....(they aren't getting that either.) It poops, okay?....It poops out sand.... (They erupt into laughter. They understand poop and really like it.) The problem is that since the game fish.... "What are game fish?" one interrupts. Game fish are fish that people sport fish for, like snapper, like mahi-mahi, like grouper.... anyway, their numbers have been greatly reduced and those fish eat the reef eaters. (Am starting to lose them, need to get back to poop quickly.) Sooooo Ladies and Gentlemen, Dory is eating reef, doing major damage,, destroying lots of reef, and pooping (got their full attention again!), and she is pooping out sand...and there's lots of poop-sand. Just one Dory can poop out a ton of sand a year and there are lots and lots of Dorys pooping out there, maybe millions, maybe billions. (The girls are wrinkling their noses and the guys are grossing out abit, too, but trying not to show it.) So the next time you all go to the beach and you're lying on that sand, feeling that great sunshine, getting that great tan, and it maybe smells a little ..... (lots of grimaces now), just remember you aren't lying in crushed shell-sand anymore like it used to be, it is fine, silty, sticky and smelly -- it's fish poop! (Got lots of "ous" and comments that I had traumatized them, and forever ruined any future visits to the beach.) hahahahaha I doubt that.

Yesterday wasn't a good day as far as I was concerned. Have a sore throat from trying to talk over them. Found a microphone 7th period, late, and that is a help for my sore throat.

An AP just brought in a young black woman that will be their new teacher starting Friday. She looks like early 20s, soft spoken and all. The AP asked me how it was going with the kids. I asked her back, "Truth?" Seriously I did not want to answer, but felt I had to respond since she asked me point blank.(This is one of those times that you don't ask a question unless you know FOR SURE what the answer will be. Also reminds me of the quote from A Few Good Men; "YOU can't handle the truth!")

I wonder now, do I have an "I'm an idiot-look to my face?" Or maybe she believes all substitutes are missing the burger out of a Happy Meal. Not sure.....

So I started telling her, the AP.....anyway, she wasn't real thrilled to be hearing all that with the new one standing there. The refusals to obey the slightest command like "Stop throwing paper," "turn off your music,""please sit IN the desk not ON it....or my all-time favorite, please be quiet so I can call the roll." She justified that they are ninth graders. I said I see the same problems that I have been experiencing for days, written on detention and referral forms in the drawer. She says, "Those need to be cleaned out." OK, I see now. Deny the problem exists...but the new teacher is standing right there. Then she says something about my "having done this rodeo before" and I nodded yes. (Although I must admit I was taken back abit at the use of the word, rodeo...like do I look like I have been ridden hard and put up wet or something? How I detest that saying!) She adds "This is her 1st.", like she wasn't standing there hearing her. Surely she (the new teacher) understood what the AP meant by "first rodeo." Like don't tell her how much its gonna hurt when you get thrown and all the bulls stomp you? Lol! (Weird that she used the "rodeo" metaphor....?????)

So then I told her, the new teacher, that the kids would really love her since she is so cute and young. And they will...they are absolutely gonna love terrorizing her! (A couple others teachers briefly discuss this in one of the work rooms, and how it is easier for the Administration to just deny the problem exists. After all, the kids are in the majority, and the teacher is just one entity  The teacher who had just quit had only been here since January. She was young, too, newly engaged. And the one prior is on maternity leave. Maybe she had such awful classes that she got preggers just to get away til this school year is over? Just saying.....it's a possibility.

I had been telling the department chair and the principal's secretary as well as staff at student services that I was having problems with them, but they were like “oh they're just 9th graders....” and “the teacher that just quit didn't know how to handle them.” But today, the powers-that-be decided they would pop in for a visit from time to time. First visit, I pointed out 2 who absolutely refused to put away their IPods and IPads that they were playing loud music on.  This wasn't the first day they'd done this. And no matter what I said, they refused to obey. On big signs all over the school, these electronic devices are prohibitive - merely seeing one is enough to have it taken and not returned except to the parent. I am beginning to believe that this is a rule that is not enforced.  In the process, another kid got snagged for some other infraction, but I forget what. Could have been dress code, with boxers-covered butt showing. They got taken out in the hall for a bit.

Then a little bit later, one of them had some kind of nothing disagreement with another boy and then the other boy’s lunch got snatched, and then that seemed to start the meltdown. I threatened to push the button and the kid got his lunch back.I was trying to help a girl with the assignment when the same perp said something about “F--k you” real loud. I looked up and he was looking at me. Not something I could ignore, and I do try to ignore if possible. So I said “Excuse me?” (in that special intonation cuz that’s what I’m talking to) He said “what-what?” which has become real popular to say. Kyle, my grandson, says it all the time to his mama and gets his face knocked off.

I said, “I know you weren't speaking to me!” And he said the what-what again. So I said, “That’s what I thought” feeling like it had been addressed and I won. But next thing I know, he’s kicking some desks out of the way and inviting the kid whose lunch he took to fight right there. At least that's what I thought was going down. I said “that’s not happening, sit down.” Actually, he was inviting this 12th grader that needed to make up the class for graduation, who had just entered the class today, and who is a wrestler to fight with him, cuz he objected to his having stolen the other kid’s lunch – is the little brother of one of his friend’s??? Or something like that. I wish I could have looked the other way and let it go down, but I had to hit the button to call for help, which caused a man with a walkie-talkie to show up a few minutes later -- maybe an AP or maybe a coach. Someone with authority. He told the bad boy (who was back in his seat, looking all innocent) to come with him, and the hooligan says, “you’re gonna need reinforcements cuz I ain’t going with you.” But he did finally.

They had been out the door for maybe a full minute, when the senior boy quietly exited. There was a brief pause and at that, the entire class got up in one movement and headed for the door in a stampede knocking over books, desks..... They all piled out of the classroom into the long corridor while I was hitting the button again. I hit BOTH buttons, the white and the red. Next minute or so, the kids are all running back in and the a whole bunch of men show up. They are pissed. Each has a walkie talkie. One in a black polo emblazoned with school mascot because barking commands. I am his only solitary fan cheering and waving in the stands, but manage to remain quiet and somber expressioned. I didn't know the principal. But it was he who donned the black polo. Big tough looking white guy. I asked the kids who he was when he left.

Well after that, I guess the administration got the message that this is not an easy group after all. Not just mere immature ninth graders. They had some big man popping in again ever so often in all the classes, throughout the rest of the day to read them the riot act. Talk mean and tough. Mentioned detentions, Saturday school and In House suspension. The kids were put on notice. I had a better rest-of-the-day, although it wasn't perfect, it was better than it had been. Got one more day with these classes and then Friday will be in a different class.

Yesterday, I said “Thank God” cuz here I was thinking I might be willing to jump thru whatever hoops were necessary to be a permanent teacher again and HE has shown me that this IS NOT something this old gray mare wants.

Dawn of the Day

Dawn of the Day


It's still dark. The sun hasn't yet made an appearance. There are no colors in the sky even indicating that its arrival is near. The moon is in the 12:00 position, directly overhead. It is a half moon. Half dark, half lit. It resembles a half-eaten pie still in its pan.

They are coming....in their Mustangs, their SUVs of all makes, their pickup trucks and even mini-vans. Some car pool.

Disembarking from their vehicles  they hurry, saunter and stumble in mass, drawn like moths towards the brightly lit entry ways. Loaded down with backpacks, satchels, bags of various sizes, some with rolling cases and crates. Like zombies, they are drawn to the light.


A few will be ignored today, maybe even bullied. Some will be loved and appreciated by all they encounter  Others will be feared and still others will be clowns, stand-up comedians. Most will enjoy at least a portion of their day.

Who are these that brave the dawn of the day? They are teachers.

Restroom Pass

Seems that one of the many ways kids really take advantage of having a substitute teacher is by "needing to go to the restroom."  Sometimes, I would swear that the entire class needs to go and eventually does over the course of the short time we are together. I usually let no more than 1 at a time out of the room. That practice seems to cut down on the trouble they can get into while out of my sight.

One day, in a middle school class, two girls approached me. These 8th graders, eye-to-eye with me, whisper that they both need to go to the bathroom. I reply, "No problem. One at a time."
      "But," one said, "we have both started our periods..." They are both looking expectantly with wonder on their faces....wonder and hope that I will believe and submit to their request.
       I didn't reply. God only knows what my face revealed.
      The other added, "...for the first time," with first time emphasized.
An air of faux-innocence has been added to their faces. They both held my eyes with theirs.
      I turn, walk away  while they dog me saying "Can we? Can we, huh?"
      Finally I turn to face them. "Seriously Ladies?" The innocence evaporates and I almost think I see a quick eye-roll. "One of you can go and when that one returns, the other can go."

     One produces a fuscia-colored container indicating it holds 2 items of feminine protection. She further pleads their case by stating, "We have to go together...."
     Sinking into disgust at this point I query sarcastically, "What? Do you need to help each other use those?" As they exchange "now what?" looks with each other, I continued. "Do you think I was born last night?"
     They are both totally lost at this point and say "What?"
     I ask again, "Do you think I was born last night, cuz I am NOT buying that. You need to come up with something a little more creative, a lot more plausible." As soon as it's out of mouth, I know what I'm going to get. Big words, 8th grade girls intent on deception. They don't go together.
      "Plausi-what?" one starts as the other repeats "Cre-A-tive?" And they're exchanging looks like I'm the one who's nuts. "What do you mean by `creative?'"
     "Here's an example. One of you could have said `we need to go together cuz like she has this cyst on her butt that has just burst and she can't reach it to put on a fresh band-aide, and this is an emergency cuz .....' I would have been inclined to believe you and let you both go together."
     "What's a cyst?" one begins while the other elbows her co-hort in crime and asks, "Will that work? Can we use that one and go?"
     Power! Absolute power! A substitute rarely experiences such relish!  "Oh my goodness no, Dearies! You have to come up with your own creative reason."
     As I begin to walk away, one says "Ok, can I go and when I come back, can she go?"
     "Certainly."