Animals Yet Again

I am now teaching World War II. With all the fascism and genocide the 1940’s can be kind of a depressing topic, so I try to break up all the Nazism with an occasional inspiring story. Today I told the kids about the Battle of Britain. I told them that the German air force, also known as the Luftwaffe, would come across the English channel and bomb the British every night for nearly an entire year (In case you were wondering, that’s not the inspiring part of the story.) I explained that the airplane was still relatively new technology, and the planes could only attack the southern part of the country before they would have to turn around and refuel. While the southern half of the country lay mostly in ruins, the northern cities of Great Britain remained basically untouched. (Here comes the inspiring part…) So in a motivating display of concern and cooperation the northern British opened their homes to the children from the southern cities. Most of the children were evacuated and lived the war years in relative safety.

Hoping to help the kids get a mental image of the time period, I told them that this is what happens in the beginning of the movie The Chronicles of Narnia, and that the first five minutes of the movie are actually pretty historically accurate. One of the kids raised his hand. I was kind of shocked by his display of appropriate behavior, and almost forgot how to respond. Then I remembered that the correct teacher response to a raised hand is to call on the student by name. When I called on him he asked, “So there really were talking lions back then?”

At least he raised his hand.

More Animal Noises

Friday morning in academy meeting the AP mentioned that kids are like cattle: when the weather gets bad they go crazy. Having never worked with cattle I cannot comment on the validity of this statement, but I can say that as a rather impressive storm rolled in Friday afternoon my kids went above and beyond their normal level of insanity.

My kids are usually anxious to prove any administrator wrong, so in one particularly boisterous class I mentioned the cattle comparison. Surely they would be insulted by being likened unto livestock, and anxiously prove their superior intelligence by settling down. Instead they embraced the analogy and started mooing.

Zoo Day Tuesday

Jason loves to make animal noises, and he's really good at it. The problem is that animal noises and World History don't get along well. Jason never interrupts me, and always listens intently to directions, but as soon as the kids are supposed to be working independently animal noises abound. This drives me crazy. I try working with my students to the sporadic accompaniment of a braying donkey, or a bleating sheep, or a squawking chicken, but I find it rather exasperating. Maybe animal noises and World History get along just fine; it's probably animal noises and the Colorado Red Head that don't play well together.

I was helping a student proofread a brilliantly written paragraph about how British Imperialism led to World War I when I was suddenly interrupted by a rather loud and convincing velociraptor call. And it was quite compelling. If I didn't already know that dinosaurs are extinct I probably would have jumped under the student’s desk to avoid the impending attack. Fortunately I am fully aware of the current lack of living dinosaurs on the planet, and knew that the noise was simply coming from Jason on the other side of the room. I decided it was time for decisive action.

Daily requests for the cessation of animal noises were clearly the less-effective approach. I decided that if I gave him a specific time where he was allowed to make animal noises, he might stop making them at random intervals: “Jason, next Tuesday we will have a zoo day. You can come in that day and make all the animal noises you want. But until then I don’t want to hear a single animal noise from you.”

He got really excited about Zoo Day, but didn’t quite believe me at first.

Jason: I can make any animal noises I want?

Red Head: Next Tuesday you can make any noises you want. And I want to hear an elephant, a horse, and a giraffe. But until then I don’t want to hear anything.

Jason: But miss, what does a giraffe sound like?

Red Head: You have until next Tuesday to figure it out.

Zoo Day arrived, and as soon as the bell rang Jason triumphantly bellowed out the sound of an elephant and a horse. Then very seriously he said, “Miss, I’ve been watching the discovery channel, and giraffes don’t make noise. They just chomp. Like this.” Then he opened his mouth as wide as it would go, took a large bite of some imaginary foliage, and started chewing. He continued chomping throughout class. One of the administrators walked in to observe my class for my yearly evaluation. She noticed Jason sitting in the front row cheerfully chewing on air, and gave him an odd look. I decided to clarify, “Jason is being a giraffe today.” She gave me an odd look. I offered no further explanation

Wait...

I have never ever ever been anything even remotely close to a morning person. I warned the Texan about this. I think he's starting to figure it out. In order to get to school on time my alarm now rings at 4:45. I am of the opinion that no living creature should be awake before the sun comes up, so an important part of my morning ritual is pouting. Usually after a few minutes of pouting I can be pleasant and cheerful, or at least not bitter and irate. This episode from Friday morning made me laugh:

Redhead: (while turning off the alarm and in a very whiny voice) I don't want to go to school today

Silence

Redhead: I should just quit my job. Then I wouldn't have to do this every day

Texan: OK. If you want to you can.

Long pause

Texan: Wait... are we having an important conversation here.

Redhead: No, I'm just pouting

Texan: so you're not quitting your job

Redhead: Not today

Texan: OK

Then he rolled over and went back to sleep. I got up and got ready for school.

Crisis

The other day one of my special ed kids came running up to me in a panic. When he got to my door and caught his breath enough to call my name three times, I expected him to tell me that there was a fight somewhere, or someone had passed out in the hallway, or something equally worthy of panic. Instead he exclaimed, "Miss, I heard that pregnant girls aren't supposed to wear heels." Having never researched the recommended footwear for pregnant women I wasn't quite sure what the best response was. I decided there must be more to the story and settled for a non-committal "OK" and waited for him to elaborate. He indignantly pointed down the hallway and shouted loudly "Well that girl is wearing heels, and I know for a fact that she's pregnant." Surely, when a 10th grader is pregnant she has bigger problems than the kind of shoes she is wearing.

After I assured him that no one was in immediate danger of death or dismemberment he became more contemplative:
"Miss I never be seein you wear heels."
"No you don't. I don't like them because I don't think they're comfortable."
"Oh. So you're not pregnant?"
"No I'm not."
"Oh. OK"

Toothbrush

I moved recently. This would be an approprate time to mention the fact that I got married...On March 14th...In Nauvoo. It was fun. So I now drive twice as far to get to school every day. This means I get up much earlier than any person on the planet should. I have now gotten up before 5:00 two days in a row, and am eagerly counting down until the last day of school on June 5th. Ever the optimist, my husband, The Texan, asked me what I like most about the morning. Without hesitation I answered that I love my toothbrush. I have written about my toothbrush before, but that was in my pre-blog days. I feel that it is again time to discourse on the awesomeness of my toothbrush:

I want you all to know that I have a rather delightful toothbrush. I acquired this delightful instrument of dental hygiene in the fairly recent past. Having discovered that my old toothbrush had reached the end of its usefulness I embarked on a quest to replace it. It was not a mission for the feint of heart. I searched far and wide, high and low, to the ends of the toothpaste isle at Target. Just as I was about to give up hope in achieving my goal of owning a toothbrush that was not boring, I caught a glimpse of the most humorous toothbrush I ever have beheld. Much to my delight I discovered that the toothbrush I desired came in a double package. I quickly tossed it in my cart, collected the rest of the items on my list, and triumphantly took my newfound treasure to the checkout stand where I purchased it.

It is a purple crayola toothbrush. Yes, Crayola makes more than just crayons, markers, and paints. The toothbrush looks just like a crayola marker with the brand name emblazoned in the middle of a purple oval and purple squiggly lines around the top and bottom. The head of the toothbrush contains a rainbow of bristles in four different colors. The most practical feature of this toothbrush, and my personal favorite, is the suction cup at the bottom. When I am finished using my toothbrush I can stand it up on the counter AND IT STAYS THERE! Despite heavy traffic across the counter of make-up containers, hair dryers, and contact solution, my toothbrush stays standing upright exactly where I have put it. On days when I am feeling particularly unconventional I can even stick my toothbrush to the mirror and it stays there too; protruding out horizontally and waiting until it is needed again.

And fortunately for me my toothbrush will still be pretty darn amazing even when I don't have to wake up before 5 am.

Exile

I normally give the kids at least 3 chances before I kick them out of class. John used up all three chances within the first minute of class. He refused to sit down, pushed all of the papers off another student’s desk, and then threw his notebook at me. I’m not sure what was going on with him, but when projectiles are thrown directly at me I lose my patience. I sent him outside. This was not a few minutes of time out to cool off and regroup; rather it was a full blown exile. I told him to take his desk, his book, and his assignment, and that he was not coming back into class.

Undeterred, John continued to interrupt my class from the hallway. He jiggled the doorknob, banged on my window, and shouted obscenities in Spanish. At this point assistance from an administrator might have been useful, but they were all busy filling out paperwork for Umbridge. The rest of the class miraculously ignored the hallway distraction and produced some remarkable work on the French Revolution. As I contemplated my options, the noise in the hallway suddenly stopped. Under normal circumstances this would have made me nervous. But, although I was somewhat curious about what had captured John’s attention, I was happy for the silence and didn’t investigate further.

A few minutes later a student sitting next to the door said “Miss, you’ve got mail.” Somewhat bewildered I walked over to see what he was talking about. I discovered that John had pushed a piece of paper under the door. I unfolded the paper and read the following message:

“Diary Entry: High school revolution camp
I got sent outside. Oh so cold. Everything seems lonely. I think I got frostbite on my toes, but I’ll be fine. I’m almost done with my assignment. All I got for survival is girl scout cookies, but they are almost gone. I have a camp fire which is almost out. I used my text book for the fire, and my seat for shelter. My days are now fading so I write to keep my fingers from freezing. My Mohawk broke off that’s how cold it is.”

Although I was highly entertained I did not rescind my order of exile. John was not invited back into class.