A Man of Many Moods

Today I was reading a story called The Rough Faced Girl to my students. It is a Native American version of Cinderella, pretty much. Anyway, in the story, a character is said to be able to "see into one's heart..." and to know if the person had a kind, good heart, or a cold, evil one.

I had the kids sitting up around me on the floor. John was sitting very near me. John is not very bright. He said to me, "Mrs. Teacher, what does a cold heart mean?"

I explained that someone who has a cold heart is mean and cruel and would only think about themself. On the other hand, I continued to explain, a warm-hearted person was kind and loving.

John thought for a minute. "Hmm..." he said. "I guess I'm somewhere in the middle..."

I told him that perhaps he might work on moving more toward the kind-hearted side and away from the cold-hearted side...

The Data Proves I'm Right

The first week of school we had to give our students this math test. It was a math test on the concepts we'd be teaching this year. That's right. Sort of like my quote, actually, from Willy Wonka: This year we'll take a math test on the concepts we're going to learn before we learn them!

The next week I got an email from our Curriculum Specialist. "Be sure to send me all of your math test scores," she wrote.

I replied, "In what form are we to send the information? Do you want the percentage correct? How was each question weighted? Is each question worth one point? Do we have a rubric to go by that shows how to correlate each score to a number, like our progress reports?"

I didn't get an adequate answer, so I chose to do nothing. The next day I was leaving school around 5 pm or 5:30 pm. I cut through the library, and passed our Curriculum Specialist's office. "Julie," she cried excitedly. "I have something for you!"

I put my head into her office. "What is it? Chocolate?" I ask hopefully.

"No," she said. "Better. Here's a chart you can use to input the kids' math scores from that test!"

I looked at the intricate boxes from her excell sheet. "Oh," I said. "And how do I use it?"

She looked at it. "Well, I don't know," she replied, "but we need to have those scores so that we know who to help!"

"Oh, I can tell you who needs math help. You need to help Kasey, Pashton, Josh, Issabelle, and Cheyenne."

"But we need the data. We are a data-driven school."

I took those tests home and corrected them. The highest score was a 69%. The boy in my class who scored the highest on the state math test in 4th grade received a score that was just right in the middle of the group. The lowest score was a 19%. I inputted all of my test percent scores onto the excell spread sheet. Guess who the bottom five scores belonged to? That's right: Kasey, Pashton, Josh, Issabelle, and Cheyenne. Just as I said.

But thank god we now have the data to prove it.

Stalker

I have a student, Arden, who is an only child. Last year's teacher told me that he can't go outside on cold, rainy days, which is just about every day here in the Pacific Northwest. So the teacher said that on days he couldn't go outside he hung out in the classroom. Well, I knew this wouldn't work for me. When it is recess, it is my planning time, and no kid stays in. Unless I say so.

I think this boy is over-protected. His mom was telling me of some complications when he was first born, but even the nurse at our school said she thinks this staying in on cold days is ridiculous.

Well, this has been an unusually rainy September, and the other day it was raining when I excused the kids for their 15-minute recess break. Arden showed no signs of even moving from the class.

"Arden," I said. "You can't stay here. I have some errands to do and I can't leave you here by yourself." He begins to get his things, and follows me out of the classroom door. He continues to follow me out of the building door, and across the playground. I think maybe he's on his way to find his mom, as she works as an aide at our school.

I head towards the workroom to use the restroom. Arden followed me into the workroom. I wonder how he knows his mom is in there. She isn't. I open the door to the restroom, and when he sees where I'm going, he just sort of stands outside the door. He's stalking me, and I can't go. So I just wash my hands and come out.

I walk over to Arden and put my arm around his shoulders. "Arden," I say. "Are you following me?"

"Yes," he replies.

"Well, you can't do that," I say. "If the weather is too bad for you to be outside, you have to either go to wherever your mom will be, or take a book and sit in the office. You won't be able to hang out with me."

I really couldn't believe that he thought he could just tag after me like a little puppy. This is fifth grade, and it's time to grow up a bit. His mom probably likes me less now.

New Year, New Stories

Welcome to a new year of students, and a new crop of stories!

The other day I was telling my students about the trip I made to the fair this summer. One of the best things I did at the fair was go through the petting farm, which, of course, is made for little tots. As I relayed the story to my students, I told them I was 29...

The next day, I was passing out some papers. As I passed one girl, she said, "Mrs. Teacher, are you really 29?"

"Yes," I replied.

"Then you are the same age as Mrs. Carsen! She's 29, too..."

(Obviously, I'm not the only teacher who lies about her age...Mrs. Carson is actually a couple years younger than me!)

Another students said, "But I think Mrs. Carsen had a birthday, so she's 30 now."

"Oh," I said. "She's older than me then." The two girls nodded in agreement.

Days later, I was busy in front of the class. I was actually making peanut butter and jam sandwiches, following directions written by student pairs as I try to get them thinking about writing a clear, precise procedure. It's a fun activity.

Anyway, I had been following the student directions, ending up with all kinds of funny looking PB&Js. One boy was sitting up close to me. He finally said to me, "Mrs. Teacher, did they have peanut butter sandwiches when you were a kid?"

"Yes, they did," I answered seriously.

Another boy asked, "How about turkey?"

I couldn't be serious anymore..."How old do you think I am?" I laughed.

"Well," kids replied. "You said you were 29..."

I love the gullibility of 5th graders.