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Suddenly, after a semester of “ok” to “pretty good” behavior in most of my classes, my students seem to have picked up the idea that the time has come to begin acting like buffoons. I am displeased. Examples:

I rewarded about 40 of my ”most well behaved” students with a field trip yesterday to a nearby college campus. At the end of the trip, one of my smartest honors students decided to yell at the field trip coordinator, ”Your hair stank!” WHAT? Another incident: We held a “last call” for the restroom before leaving the college campus for the hour-and-a-half drive back to our school. TWENTY MINUTES INTO THE BUS RIDE, two students who inexplicably had chosen not to take advantage of the restroom facilities stood up and began yelling at the bus driver that they were going to pee in their pants, pee on other individuals, “go R. Kelly on” F (umm…SO gross), etc. One of these two students then threw balls of paper toward the front of the bus. Again, WHAT? (Anaphora.) Predictably enough, I refused to stop, and the Bladder Brothers suffered on in silence.

The Field Trip Philanderers received dispositions, of course, as well as parent phone calls. Their parents were appropriately aghast, thank goodness.

Also. Today, while taking the NWEA, my third period class was perhaps the most hyper I have ever seen them. David stood up and pretended to fall on the floor, Brittany and Shakedra wouldn’t stop whispering, and Brandon and Darrian spontaneously cracked jokes DURING the assessment. I told them that I would play some soft music if they were silent. Then, once that happened, Ed tucked his arms into his shirt and began swaying and singing along with Ciara’s “Never Ever.” During the test. Comical, perhaps, but not exactly acceptable.

‘Scuse me. Kids have begun shrieking at each other in what should be an empty hallway outside my classroom.

Me: Oh, I stop at the gas station on my way to school — the Double Quick.

Student (in a shocked, ingenuous whisper): Ms. ____, that’s where the black people go.

(Silence)

Student: I don’t mean no harm in it. That’s just the way it is. White people go to Exxon.

I need to get reacquainted with this thing. As the months have marched on – as the weather has changed from Mosquito to Frost to Flood, and my teaching has gone from ohmygodwhatamidoingtomorrow to okmaybeiamnotterribleatthis, and my stress level has gradually declined (on average) throughout this frenzied first year of teaching – my need for blog-catharsis has become less urgent and less frequent. Although the current state of affairs is much better than last semester’s, the written record of my teaching has become regrettably sparse as the teaching itself has improved. Hrmmph. Seems I’m leaving a negatively skewed impression of my teaching years. Posterity and future biographers of Ms. ____, I am sorry.

Dedicated readers (er, mostly just family and friends from home) have filed a number of complaints for my lack of posts, to which I have responded dissatisfactorily. I apologize for this oversight as well.

That said, I’m going to add to the disappointment now by not writing just yet.

Yes, yes, I know you’re annoyed. I know you’re incredulous. And for the third time in one post, I am sorry. I just have papers to grade and significant planning to do for the coming week. If you’re reading this, though, I want you to know that the new goal is to write at least one meaningful post per week.

The first entry I have in mind is about a student named Deiun. Hold me to it.

P.S. Happy Easter!

You will physically need to get your butt to Borders because, tragically, the article I want you to read does not appear on the publication’s website — but I promise you the effort will be worth it. Once you’ve gotten your hands on a copy, you’ll need to flip to the article called “A Perfect Test,” by Michael Copperman. Don’t let go of it until you’ve finished reading it.

I would explain further, but the piece will speak for itself. Just go to the bookstore.

We’ve been on a quest for background knowledge these past few days so that we can start reading Animal Farm next week. Because I studied Russian and Soviet politics and economics rather seriously in college, this has been an exciting time for me. I LOVE HISTORY! YAY! 

Unfortunately:

As much as I try to galvanize my students, not all of them seem to be quite as fascinated by Soviet history as I am. Today’s documentary, however, with its descriptions of Stalin’s various affronts to humanity, does seem to be helping. (See below.)

Fortunately:

As a “special treat,” we’re watching a documentary on Stalin today. W00t. (I am writing in “real time” right now, sitting at my desk in my classroom.)

Unfortunately:

The documentary, produced in 1996, features a young Condi Rice as a preeminent scholar of Soviet history and politics…and most of my students seem to have no idea who she is. Womp, wooommmp.

Fortunately:

They know who she is now!

Exasperated voices before the bell: “Sit down and be quiet so we can listen to music!!!”

Cacophony: “I wanna be Creon (Antigone, Ismene, Choragos, etc.) today!”

“Man, we do some kinda work in this class EVERY day!”

Cashlyn, using a word she learned recently: “Ms. ____, let’s go over the answers. I’m anxious!”

A student who started the year with phenomenal anger management problems (whispering): “Ms. ____, just for you I’m not gonna let him get to me.”

(Following one of my obnoxious singsong chants) “Ms. ____, I oughta get you a parrot.”  

Excitedly, from students who scored well on makeup quizzes today: “Is my name gonna get added to the wall?!” 

Several students, with concern: “Am I on track for Beautiful Behavior this week?” / ”Why wasn’t I on the list last week?” (This is another way to get your name on the wall.)

(Pointing to a quote about inner strength in a book by Walter Dean Myers) “Ms. ___, I underlined this sentence because it really hit me.” 

Goofball Student #1, annoyed: “Stop touching Ms. ____’s hair, [Goofball Student #2's name].” — Goofball Student #2, indignant: “But she my favorite teacher!” (This is a favorite topic of commentary for Goofball Student #2, who once angrily rebuked another student for “giving attitude to his favorite teacher.”  Hahahaha. He has worked really hard all year — resulting in more than two years’ growth in reading level in the first semester alone. I’m really proud of him.)

And my favorite. This one comes from a kid who struggles, struggles, struggles – even more than most. He’d just explained a fairly complex comma usage rule to another student:

(Elatedly) “Ms. ____, I’m smart!!!”

 —–

P.S. I recently found out that I get to roll up with my students next year and teach 11th grade, which is the state-tested year in Arkansas. YESSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

After three warnings — for having their heads down, for example, or talking when they shouldn’t, or just generally ”acting a fool” – students must write an essay on a topic of my choosing. They cannot get credit for anything else in my class until that essay, a full page, has been completed. Students may not talk to anyone in Essay Land unless they want to join them there.

The success rate, as measured by overall classroom tone (far better) and the number of dispositions written per week (far fewer), shows significant improvements from last semester. Essay Land, an idea hailing from the classroom of TFA demigoddess KT Cooney, has sparked a revolution in my classroom management. The system demonstrates to students, as well as administrators, that I’m actively trying not to send kids to the office – while still showing that every consequence is a direct result of students’ own choices. Now, when I do send kids to the office, the administration backs me up; offenders go to ISS long enough to write their essays, then return to class and (usually) cause no further trouble. This system is fine with me. In order to get sent to the office, students usually have to defy not only me but also their peers: the REAL key. A typical situation goes like this:

Ms. ____ (casually): You’re really choosing not to write that? You’ll have to do it in ISS anyway. I haven’t written you up since October; this is disappointing.

Offender (indignant): I don’t gotta write this!

Ms. ____ (reaching for disposition form): Ok.

Other students (exasperated): Just write it, dude.

Offender begins writing.

Behavior essays also allow for a much more positive classroom environment than one in which students simply get sent to the principal’s office after “three strikes,” which happened all too frequently in my chaotic first semester of teaching.

Initially I really had be steely and hold my ground so that students would respect the behavior essay system. After that hurdle, however, the only major drawback has been that students sometimes pay close attention to the number of warnings their peers have received and then taunt them with chants of, “Essay Land!” when they’re nearing the cliff. The collateral damage: warnings (or essays, depending on the situation) for those who clown in such a manner. Lame. But students always write their essays.

(Note: Blatant demonstrations of disrespect, such as backtalk, profanity, cheating on tests, etc., still earn students a one-way ticket to the principal’s office.)

It also looks like I am brimming with enthusiasm. I’m grinning right now. Thank goodness my housemate M knows how to play the piano…because my skill set consists of the following:

1. The voice of an angel. (Ha.)

2. An artillery of embarrassing dance moves, mostly involving jazz hands and/or “blades.”

3. Intensity. (This is the most significant thing I bring to the table.)

In other news, please review a conversation that took place during my second period class today: 

Cashlyn (interrupting read-aloud; not pointing to anything, nor actually seeming to refer to anyone in particular): You know — you look like her, Ms. ____.

Me: Wait. What?  

Cashlyn: You know…his wife!

(pause)

Me: You know how I always tell you all to be more specific and descriptive, and to give examples and information and stuff?

Cashlyn: Aggh…Crystal, what’s her name?

Crystal (ponders for 0.2 seconds): Oh, you mean Obama’s wife? Yeah. Michelle. You shoooww right!

Me: What?!

Chorus: Yeah, you really do! Cool!!!

They proceeded to explain that “it’s mostly when I smile.” In any case, the revelation means that two groups — my housemates were first – have now independently identified some vague similarity in our facial structure. I think I like it… 

Finally, on a separate yet still important note: The back of a receipt in my purse contains a list of people whose phone calls and/or e-mails I have yet to return. If you happen to be one of those individuals, and you happen to be reading this humble little blog post, please know via the Internets that I haven’t forgotten you.

On the other hand, Keisha (formerly “Tough Girl”) excitedly introduced me to her mom in person at the game tonight — which is such a big moment that it pretty much makes everything else okay.

I will explain Essay Land at a later time. Just know, for now, that it is not a good thing.