A Bold Fresh Piece of Hummanity

I am currently reading Bill O'Riley' s new book, Bold Fresh. I'm an avid Bill fan, not only because of his political leanings, but as a true geek, he speaks to my soul. ;) I look forward to the last part of his show each night when he gives the invitation to opine to his views and encourages viewers not to be mendacious, a blooter, or to bloviate, or any other pompous word commonly used in the 1800s.

That's why I'm loving Bold Fresh. I am learning all about Bill's upbringing and how he became the way he is now. He writes about how his views of life were formed as well as his political views. The book is also pretty funny and on more than one occasion, I've laughed out loud.

Okay, so liking Bill is not the only reason I wanted to buy Bold Fresh. Bill promised that when you ordered the book from his site, you would get a bumper sticker that said "We Say Merry Christmas" to stick it to SP's who deemed it appropriate to only say "Happy Holidays." I love the fact that I am driving around as a complete politically incorrect mess.

Merry CHRISTmas!

Pete!

In order to meet the photo quota, here are some pictures of my little guy Pete.

He lives with my parents for now because he likes to run around off-leash outside. We live in town and leash laws prevent that from happening. Plus, we don't want speed demons to run over him. We like him and want to keep him alive.

He's a Westhighland Terrier and is extremely hyper!

He is a regular topic of conversation in my classroom. The kids and I love to talk about our pets and from time to time, they will ask me how Pete's doing.

Book Review: Sorry Twilight Fans

I have noticed for months that many of the students in my school have been reading the Twilight saga by Stephanie Meyer. I haven’t had much time to read anything except for scholastic reading, so I was glad to have the opportunity to indulge in reading a mind-numbing book for a change.

In my opinion, Twilight was just that. It was mind-numbing, pleasure reading. My life was not changed, I did not develop a “thing” for undead, vampire-esqe, noble savage archetypes. I did not fall in love with Edward Cullen. I think I may be the only rational female who read Twilight and kept her sanity.

I was actually quite proud of the fact that up until this weekend, I had not succumbed to the fad of being a Twilightaholic. I prided myself on not having been defiled by the “cool” thing to do. I was bragging about being an avid Fanny Fern, Jane Austen, William Faulkner fan. After all, I know what real literature is like. I did, in fact, major in English.
Alas, all my swelling pride came to a disturbing halt. Solomon did say that “pride goeth before the fall,” so I should have known that the climax of my pride was about to be proceeded by my reluctant caving.

As far as good, steady literature is concerned, Twilight does not compare to the classics of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries have produced. Dracula, it is not. Dracula, Meyer did obviously reference in her study of vampires. She does know her myth’s myth from fact. On the other hand, I did find it to be too contrived and too created for mass consumption. As I read, I was able to predict every twist and turn in the plot. I could see everything coming before it actually happened. In some cases, my assumptions would have been better than what actually happened. Meyer is obviously writing to an audience of hormonal, frustrated, jaded young girls. The main character Bella Swan, is sarcastic, introverted, and to some degree, tortured. She somehow has this aloof awareness that could only be pulled off by someone penned in a novel. She is exactly what the “in” crowd would consider hopeless in real life, but exactly what the “in” crowd would love to be, given the chance. She is the Sandra Dee for the darkened girl of the 21st century. I can see girls even now imitating Bella Swan and pretending to be her.

Edward Cullen, the devastatingly attractive, old-but-young vampire can be clinically diagnosed as having Borderline Personality Disorder with just a casual reading of the book. His hatred for who he is causes him to push Bella away, yet pull her in when he feels like doing so. He manipulates her, yet she does not see this. I don’t think anyone else reading the book has yet to pick up on this twisted, demented relationship. He is charming, attractive, smooth-talking, rebellious, and when convenient, repentant for his instinctual actions. He is the suave, potentially abusive boyfriend for Bella’s sick need to be abused. Bella is the pretty, falsely innocent girl that has that weird co-dependence on someone who could ultimately abuse her. Her acerbic attitude attempts to mask this and pass her off as being a voluntary outcast who is deep-down, just too cool for school.

With all my psychoanalysis aside, I did enjoy reading the book. It was okay. I might say that reading it was a guilty pleasure. Of course, how could anyone with more than a twelve year old mindset become so deeply involved with these fictional characters that they blur the lines between fiction and reality? Oh, wait. Never mind. I forgot about the whole nation.

If anything extremely positive came from me reading this book besides the fact that I just enjoyed reading a mediocre book, I have discovered a formula for writing a novel and cashing in on teenage angst. I think Stephanie Meyer has done just that. I don’t think she expects anyone to consider her the next Mary Shelley or even the next Ann Rice (God, help us). I don’t even think she really expected anyone to take her all that seriously as a writer. I think she saw a cash cow and decided to milk that sucker for all it’s worth. And for that, I have to say well done Ms. Meyer. Well done.

In a Bind

How on Earth do you teach a class, er-whole grade, containing students who could score a 36 on the ACT and those who wouldn't be able to score a 1? How do you do it when they are in the same classroom at the same time?

How do you reach the kid who is only at school because it's illegal for him not to be there?

How do you tell the amazing football player who thinks he can go pro that if he doesn't start trying to turn in work, he won't make it to high school graduation, much less college?

How do you deal with a class full of Pre-AP kids who scored BASIC on the benchmark exams?
How are you supposed to answer the superintendent when she asks, "Why aren't the Pre-AP kids doing Pre-AP level work?" How do you tell her that it's her fault for allowing a kid to sign a contract saying that they understand the basis of an ADVANCED PLACEMENT class, not even knowing their benchmark scores or even if they read on GRADE LEVEL or higher.

Side note: 75% of my Pre-AP kids scored BASIC on the benchmark exam in Literacy. 90% of them cannot write a complete sentence. I didn't say a good complete sentence. I said "A complete sentence."

What do you do?

It's not hypothectical; it's real.

Diverse Learners

Here is one of my groups of diverse learners. One of them is African-American/Hispanic. She speaks fluent Spanish and English. She thinks that she is "not very good" at English, but she is one of my highest acheiving students in the 7th grade. She catches on quickly and needs little prompting to do work. She is very motivated.
The white girl in the photograph is one of my proficient students. She is on the fringe of scoring advanced on the benchmarks. She just needs more prompting and encouraging in order to do her work. She is very strong in math, but needs a little help in my class. She is very kinesthetic and does well in cooperative learning.
The young man here is an artist and learns well when he can apply his artistry skills to writing. A few weeks ago we studied correcting run-on sentences. After the initial instruction, I made up several run-on sentences about the students and printed them on some paper. I read the sentences to the students one time, then had them all stand up. I re-read the sentences very slowly and students were to stomp their feet when I came to the place where the sentence needed to be corrected. I called it "Stomp Out Run-Ons." After that, I gave them blank paper, markers, and their corrected sentences. They were to draw a shoe with the corrected run-on sentences around it. This young man drew one of the most elaborate shoes of all the 7th grade. He has mastered correcting run-on sentences because he was able to apply his skills to a (fairly) new concept.
The African-American girl in the photragraph is one who needs to be stimulated to perform her best. She needs to be doing something with her hands at all times. She tends to be talkative if her friends are around, but I have found that she retains what I have taught, even if she seems to be disengaed. I have had to learn not to take it personally, but to still monitor her and make sure she is following.
The students pictured were working on reviewing for their target tests. They were reviewing in groups and helping each other with specific concepts that would be on the test. They were to work in a group for a certain amount of time and then rotate when the timer stopped. They enjoyed reviewing in this way much more than getting a worksheet and listening to me get hoarse for an hour.

Pictures of the Wheel

Here are some pictures of the Wheel of Misfortune I use in the classroom and the consequences I keep posted behind it.

It has been awesome! I don't have to fret over punishment.

Evidently, I am a Weakness

Imagine my surprise today when I walk into our conference room at FMS and see a poster from yesterday's Arkansas Leadership Academy meeting listing new teachers as one of the weaknesses of Fordyce Middle School.

Excuse me?

I tried my best not to get offended, but I can't help it.

Let me do some scenario setting for you.

I arrange my room each day so I can just walk in and start teaching. Some "seasoned teachers" rush around at 7:50am trying to get last minute copies made for 1st period.

I use High Yield Instructional Strategies almost daily in my room.
Some "seasoned teachers" are mad because the principal wants us to use ONE EACH MONTH.

I know about United Streaming and have been asking about it at our school for the last month.
Some "seasoned teachers" are technology illiterate and have no idea how to e-mail.

I have occasional discipline problems.
A "seasoned teacher" wants to put her 5th graders in my 8th grade tutoring class because "their personalities clash with the teacher's."
-I said no way, by the way.

I do my best to teach toward different learning styles as much as possible.
Some "seasoned teachers" complain about highlighting Bloom's verbs in their lesson plans.

I use graphic organizers at least 3-4 times a week.
Some "seasoned teachers" complain about having to use their copy machine limits in order to print lesson plans (when they can submit them via e-mail to save paper).

I already knew about most of the things addressed in our PLC meeting this afternoon thanks to the phenominal instruction by Dr. Hunnicutt, Dr. Zimmerly, Dr. Ghivan, Dr. Longing, and please forgive me if I left out anyone else.

I am young and have the energy to walk across the room.
Some "seasoned teachers" sit on their butts and teach from their desks and Elmo tables all day.

I am such a weakness to the school, yet no one has bothered to stick their head in my door and see for themselves that I am a weakness.

My literacy coach spends 4 out of 6 periods a day observing everyone but me.

While I am a weakness, my SPED kids are blowing the top off of my assignments, tests, and classwork.

One of my SPED kids does not want her work modified and can EXCEL with my normal classroom work.

Did I mention that I am the only 1st year content area teacher in the building?

Evidently, I am a weakness.

Obviously, I am not happy.
Is anyone else encountering these issues?

Kids Can Be So Mean!

I don't evel feel like elaborating. Kids can be so mean.

Men, please explain to your males that any comment directed toward a female having to do with weight is absolutely unacceptable. Oh, and NEVER UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES ASK A WOMAN IF SHE IS PREGNANT. Wait, add to that NEVER ASK PEOPLE AROUND YOU IF A WOMAN IS PREGNANT AND EXPECT NOT TO FEEL THE WRATH OF HELL WHEN YOU FIND OUT SHE KNOWS YOU ARE ASKING THAT BEHIND HER BACK.

She will take it personally and think that you are caling her fat.

Today has been horrible. One of my really special kids was taken into state custody today. We don't know if we will see him again. Hopefully we will see him back at school. I missed him being in class today. I'm at least glad that I got to give him back his 100+ test that he took last week. I really believe that it made his day. He beamed when he saw his grade. I'm glad I could make him smile a little. Who knows what was happening at home? It could have been anything.

And here I am, feeling bad because one of my kids called me fat.

Finding a Balance

I still love my job. I love it to the point that I don't call it "work." When I leave The Hubster each morning I say, "I'm going to school. See you tonight." It's school, it's not work.

I'm having the difficult task of trying to find a good balance between family, church, school, and classes. At this point, my proverbial see-saw is loaded down on one side. I need a bigger kid to come jump on the other side and bounce some of this stuff away so I can feel somewhat normal.

My kids in the youth at church miss me (which, I never in a kajillion years thought would happen). I miss them, too. Plus, we are in the process of trying to go to 16 hours a week with prayer and worship, with the goal of eventually moving out of the building and establishing a House of Prayer in Pine Bluff with 24/7 prayer and worship. So far, we have six two-hour sets per week. My husband leads one set with a team and our associate pastor and his wife lead another set. The rest are led using an i-Pod and a screen with prayer targets. They take place from 6am to 8am each morning. I'm on my husband's team, but all this has forced me to take a hiatus from leading worship. I chose to be a teacher, but the location of my school is what impedes my ability to lead worship on a consistent basis.

You could say I'm already in the market for another job closer to the church. We are also trying to buy property to build a house in White Hall. I'm really counting on a job opening up in WHSD. All the eggs are going into that basket. If something doesn't open up, I guess I could always look at SEARK. Teaching on the college level could be fun. If that doesn't pan out, I may have to abandon teaching for a season and be a mental health care paraprofessional. It's not ideal, but it is a guarantee if I can't get a teaching job.


I'm also finding that the busier I become with all of this, the more my little creative person wants to get out. I'm having such a huge desire to paint these days, knowing that I don't have time for it. I just want to sit down at the easel, put on some music, and create something. I'm also wanting to take some piano lessons and make The Hubster teach me some more guitar. I have all this creative energy and if something doesn't give, I am going to explode like Peter Petrelli.

But I'm not complaining.

I'll post pics later of my Wheel and my room.

Wheel! Of! Misfortune!!!!!!

To help control my classroom and keep punishment fair, I am using a Wheel of Misfortune that I inherited from my mentor teacher. She is the school's librarian and no longer needs her wheel. She gave it to me and it has been a hit! Well, the kids who haven't had to spin it, love it.

Here's how it works: it's a wooden wheel about 12' tall on a base. It has 8 different numbered sections with one tiny little section labled "fortunate." I have a poster on the wall next to the wheel with all the corresponding punishments. They are as follows: 1. lunch detention (10 min) 2. student writes letter to parent 3. teacher and student call parent 4. lunch detention (10 min) 5. student writes one page essay 6. student cleans my room at lunch 7. lunch detention (10 min) 8. student writes one page essay

It makes my job a lot easier not to have to dole out differnt types of punishment. They just spin the wheel and serve what number they land on. Plus, all I have to do is look at a kid with my "eye" and say, "wheel."

Eventually, I will post some pics of the wheel.

Zicam Should be your Best Friend

9/8- My principle somehow thinks that I am preggers. I don't know whether to take advantage of this and get some sympathy or be offended because I might look like I have gained a little (more) weight. Actually, I have been nauseated and sickly for the past several mornings. I know it's because I took an antibiotic on an empty stomach. I also get sick when I get stressed. It all affects my stomach. But she swears I'm preggo. She said, "it has happened." Sorry. No bebes for us at this time. But I might ride this super-sympathetic wave for a while... ;)

On Friday, I showed symptoms of contracting my first "bug" as a teahcer.

Thank you, Federal Government for allowing us to have the Labor Day holiday.

I have spent the long weekend eating antibiotics, downing fluids, practically injectingi Thera Flu, and resting.

We should all invest in a box of Zicam swabs and use them daily. Seriously.

My mentor teacher thought I had a great record being that I "got sick after the full first two weeks." She got strep after the first few days.

Is this allowable?

One of my kids pulled a tooth in the middle of class, today.

We just looked at each other for a few minutes.

He held up the tooth like a gold medal.

I ran in to get a better look.

He ran to the nurse.

I asked if 7th graders still had baby teeth.

They looked at me like I was an idiot.

Yes, I Realize That I am a Little Green at This...

I didn't run out of the classroom crying. I didn't say that I would never come back when that blessed final bell rang. At the (literal) end of the day, I knew that I had stepped into the ultimate calling on my life. I knew after the first day that I was born to be a teacher.

I know that Divine Grace is the only thing that pushes me forward throughout the day. I have no energy, no strength reserve, and no tolerant immune system to speak of, but when those who pray for me ask me "how the teaching thing is going," I can muster up some spunk and genuinely say, "it's the most interesting, amusing, and fun thing I have ever done in my life."

Four years ago, I believe God told me to be a teacher. I had never really considered the possibility. I hated high school. I was unhappy, struggling to find something real. I didn't eat, sleep, or rest. I threw myself into an unhealthy releationship, extracurricular activities, and studying. To make the long story short, I was completely miserable. There was no way on Earth that I would subject myself to the terror of school again. Then, God rocked my world.

I was sitting in a church at camp in Oklahoma City. My husband (then boyfriend) and I had taken a group of kids to church camp. On that particular night, a crazy, tattooed, lanky Hisanic guy named Elijah Tindall was ministering to the kids. Out of nowhere, he starts talking about school. He spots me in a crowd of about four hundred kids and says, "you will be in the schools." He locked eyed with me for what seemed like several minutes. An instance like that may seem coincidental, but the reality of it all is that days before we left for that camp, I had been wondering what I should do with my life and the word "teaching" kept popping up. I knew it was from the pits of Hell, so I ignored it. Why would I be a teacher? Why would I go back to what I couldn't wait to leave?

One year before I graduated college, I felt like I had missed Him on the teacing path. I was confused about it, scared of it, and frustrated with being in college altogether. I decided against pursuing teaching as a career. The day I decided not to be a teacher was the deadline for turning in all the MAT admission materials. I had everything ready to go. I was going to graduate in May, enter the MAT program in June. The packet never left my car.

In January of 2008, I was at a particularly low time in my life as far as emotions and fear are concerned. I had been a stay-at-home-wife for almost a year. I enjoyed being at home and having the freedom to go help my husband work at church whenever I pleased. I tried to get into cosmetology school, but the admissions people there didn't seem to know anything about their own school, so I was flat-faced against a brick wall, again. Nothing I tried to do worked.

Before the Wednesday night services started one night, I had a mini-breakdown typical of blue personality types like my own. I cried to my husband and told him that there was nothing in this world that I could possibly do and feel fulfilled (in the realm of a career). I remember saying, "I am not capable of doing much of anything. There is nothing I can do. I have a worthless degree and I'm not that good at other things." He said, out of nowhere, "Take the PRAXIS II and see if you pass it. I know you will, but you need to see for yourself that you can do something." Because I am a good, submitted, little wife -or at the end of my proverbial rope- I went online that night at 10:00 p.m. to sign up for the March 15th testing date. At 12:00 am late registration closed for the PRAXIS II.

I had one shot. One. Shot. Only. I said, "Justin, I'm not going to pass it! I don't know anyone who has passed the PRAXIS II for English on the first try. The writing section is sooo hard! If I fail, there is no way I can get into the MAT program. I'll have to wait another year. Plus, I have been out of school for a year. I don't remember as much as I did a year ago." To shorten the story, I prayed, and prayed, and prayed, and prayed some more. I studied, studied, studied, and studied. I passed. I didn't really look at the scores to see by how much. All I knew was that I passed. In June, Fordyce Middle School hired me to teach seventh grade. No to be cliche-ish, but everything fell into place more beautifully than if I had taken the neatest, nicest little pieces and put them together myself.

Someone had tried to steal my calling. I listened to the lies that breathed into my mind, saying that I couldn't do this, that there was nothing for me to do. Thankfully, those lies are under my feet and I am pursuing one of the things that I was created to do. I am in the place I least thought I would be, but I have the opportunity to make it a better experience than that which I faced. I can actually help make school a good experience for broken little people like myself
-people who are trying to figure out this 70 or 80 year internship and how they fit into the bigger picture.