A while back I wrote a blog in which I introduced you to some of my students. This time I'm going to be more careful about what I write because I've been told by multiple sources to "be more careful." I understand their concern, especially considering I write utterly abhorrent material about the little people.
No I don't. But parents are weird, and I do think those cautious sources of mine are right in that, if discovered by the wrong parent, this blog could put me in hot water. But whatever, I'm more apt to give up reading fiction than I am to stop writing about the damn treasure trove that is my current job.
You just can't make this stuff up.
Short, skinny male
I won't tell you his name, but I will tell you that I sing a song by Elton John to him a lot. He thinks I'm pretty weird. And the feeling is mutual.
He recently acquired a lady friend, who is also yet to eclipse the five-foot milestone.
Anyway, the two hug constantly. I mean every chance they get. It makes me wonder, what goes through this little Casanova's mind?
Maybe this:
Welp, got thirty-five seconds of passing time to burn. I wonder where my gal is. Oh, Londberg's class. That's close by. Still time to do a drive-by hug!
Or this:
Oh shucks, I have lunch detention again. I just threw away thirty minutes of continuous, uninterrupted hugging. At the very least, let me quickly put my lunch tray down and give my gal a quickie she's-sitting-I'm-standing-most-awkward-side-hug-of-all-time. Mmmm that felt so right.
I guess I was there once too, a hormone-infused middle-school student craving a good, hard hug. But now it's just strange to watch this shit from my elevated height (speaking relatively; I'm not that tall). They look like a couple of twin babies, clinging to each other on account of the lack of warmth they enjoyed in the womb they just left. That's how short they are. That's how young they seem.
Tall male
This guy skips school like a smooth, round rock thrown at the perfect angle skips the surface of the river in my backyard where I grew up.
But on the rare day that he's at school, he's skipping class. Last week, when I was having an abnormally calm class, this guy opened my door and peered in, drawing the attention that he so craves, like most people. I said to him, "Come on in, tall male. You've already missed thirty minutes of this incredibly engaging and educational lesson, if I don't say so myself."
He looked at me sincerely, seemingly ready to take his seat and start learning. And then, after two steps, he stopped on a dime and said his favorite word. "SIKE!" And then made a quick exit.
Well tall male and I repeated this fun little game of cat-and-mouse not once, not twice, but three more times throughout that class period. It was exactly the number of interruptions I needed to get through that under-planned lesson. Thank you tall male.
The "runner" female
"Can I go to the bathroom?" "No." "It's an emergency!" "No it's not, you're lying." "It's girl problems." "You're lying again." "I have to go to the nurse." "You're one-hundred percent healthy and one-hundred percent lying." "Can I go to my locker? I forgot my pencil." "Not a chance." "Can I go to the office to call my Mom?" "Absolutely not." "Can I leave the room just because I want to?" "You're no longer lying. You may leave. Just be back in no more than thirty minutes. Have a nice run."
Frustrated female
I asked her and the rest of the class to write three things they learned from an article about parent-teen relationships. I asked everyone to respond on the back of a quiz. That's the gem that she wrote >
She was also one of about twenty-five students whom I gave a lunch detention to that day. After receiving some coaching that was helpful from Teach for America (insert jibe here), I've totally revamped my consequence giving. And her comment on that paper, "they give you consequences for no reasons!!!!" –that means I'm winning.
Male
I really like this kid. He is new to the school and speaks no English. Sometimes he gets this look in his eye, one that reveals the intimidation that he's naturally feeling while in a classroom where the language is completely foreign to him. At these times I like to make eye contact with him and give him a thumbs-up. His afraid face transforms into a smiling one, and he puts up his own, much smaller thumb.
And then last Friday, by the act of some merciful god, every person young and old on my floor spent the duration of the last period in the gym. I was shooting hoops with this male who speaks no English. He shot and missed over and over and over, with the unyielding ambition characteristic of one who can't yet grow a patchy beard. But then, finally, thankfully, this male threw up a prayer that banged an iron and went down. I went crazy, and he calmly flashed that grin and held up a tiny thumb.
No I don't. But parents are weird, and I do think those cautious sources of mine are right in that, if discovered by the wrong parent, this blog could put me in hot water. But whatever, I'm more apt to give up reading fiction than I am to stop writing about the damn treasure trove that is my current job.
You just can't make this stuff up.
Short, skinny male
I won't tell you his name, but I will tell you that I sing a song by Elton John to him a lot. He thinks I'm pretty weird. And the feeling is mutual.
He recently acquired a lady friend, who is also yet to eclipse the five-foot milestone.
Anyway, the two hug constantly. I mean every chance they get. It makes me wonder, what goes through this little Casanova's mind?
Maybe this:
Welp, got thirty-five seconds of passing time to burn. I wonder where my gal is. Oh, Londberg's class. That's close by. Still time to do a drive-by hug!
Or this:
Oh shucks, I have lunch detention again. I just threw away thirty minutes of continuous, uninterrupted hugging. At the very least, let me quickly put my lunch tray down and give my gal a quickie she's-sitting-I'm-standing-most-awkward-side-hug-of-all-time. Mmmm that felt so right.
I guess I was there once too, a hormone-infused middle-school student craving a good, hard hug. But now it's just strange to watch this shit from my elevated height (speaking relatively; I'm not that tall). They look like a couple of twin babies, clinging to each other on account of the lack of warmth they enjoyed in the womb they just left. That's how short they are. That's how young they seem.
Tall male
This guy skips school like a smooth, round rock thrown at the perfect angle skips the surface of the river in my backyard where I grew up.
But on the rare day that he's at school, he's skipping class. Last week, when I was having an abnormally calm class, this guy opened my door and peered in, drawing the attention that he so craves, like most people. I said to him, "Come on in, tall male. You've already missed thirty minutes of this incredibly engaging and educational lesson, if I don't say so myself."
He looked at me sincerely, seemingly ready to take his seat and start learning. And then, after two steps, he stopped on a dime and said his favorite word. "SIKE!" And then made a quick exit.
Well tall male and I repeated this fun little game of cat-and-mouse not once, not twice, but three more times throughout that class period. It was exactly the number of interruptions I needed to get through that under-planned lesson. Thank you tall male.
The "runner" female
"Can I go to the bathroom?" "No." "It's an emergency!" "No it's not, you're lying." "It's girl problems." "You're lying again." "I have to go to the nurse." "You're one-hundred percent healthy and one-hundred percent lying." "Can I go to my locker? I forgot my pencil." "Not a chance." "Can I go to the office to call my Mom?" "Absolutely not." "Can I leave the room just because I want to?" "You're no longer lying. You may leave. Just be back in no more than thirty minutes. Have a nice run."
Frustrated female
I asked her and the rest of the class to write three things they learned from an article about parent-teen relationships. I asked everyone to respond on the back of a quiz. That's the gem that she wrote >
She was also one of about twenty-five students whom I gave a lunch detention to that day. After receiving some coaching that was helpful from Teach for America (insert jibe here), I've totally revamped my consequence giving. And her comment on that paper, "they give you consequences for no reasons!!!!" –that means I'm winning.
Male
I really like this kid. He is new to the school and speaks no English. Sometimes he gets this look in his eye, one that reveals the intimidation that he's naturally feeling while in a classroom where the language is completely foreign to him. At these times I like to make eye contact with him and give him a thumbs-up. His afraid face transforms into a smiling one, and he puts up his own, much smaller thumb.
And then last Friday, by the act of some merciful god, every person young and old on my floor spent the duration of the last period in the gym. I was shooting hoops with this male who speaks no English. He shot and missed over and over and over, with the unyielding ambition characteristic of one who can't yet grow a patchy beard. But then, finally, thankfully, this male threw up a prayer that banged an iron and went down. I went crazy, and he calmly flashed that grin and held up a tiny thumb.