All's Fair...

Salvete,

Today, I would like you to join me in a meditation on Fairness. What does "fair" mean? What does it mean "be fair"?

Dictionary.com defines "fair" as "free from bias, dishonesty, or injustice." Definition number two works for my purposes as well: "legitimately sought, pursued, done, given, etc; proper under the rules."

I assigned a mid-term review, to be completed at the students' discretion for extra credit. The students were not required to turn it in or complete it, or any combination of those two. The ones who did the review did better on the exam than those who did not do the review. Those who chose not to do it may have done so because of priorities, laziness, or spite. Say they had a Chemistry test the same day as my exam. Everyone knows that Chemistry is harder than English, or at least more useful and important. Perhaps the child has no intrinsic motivation. He certainly should not be blamed for predisposition to laziness. Maybe the child hates his parents, and refuses to study in order to spite them. I will not even go into how that simply proves to the parents that they are right, and damages the child's future. I am sure some wise and witty teenager would confirm that I am simply old fashioned or something, and say that I should be affirming him and telling him how special he is.

Regardless the reasons, the students had a review, and it was extra credit. Before I begin my meditation on fairness (which may actually become more of an anecdote), I should tell my dear readers, should they exist, my policy on extra credit. I believe that extra credit is simply that: extra. I owe the students nothing in the realm of bonus points. You will not ever find a bonus question on a quiz I have written, nor will you find many opportunities for extra credit in my class. If a student asks me for an extra credit assignment, I will not grant that opportunity until I have looked at the gradebook and asked myself the following questions:
1. Has the student turned in all of his regular credit (no zeroes)?
2. Has the student tried hard this year and is still struggling?
3. Is the student a jackass?

If the answers are 1) yes, 2) yes, 3) no, then I will allow the student to do extra credit. Some students complain that I do not give extra credit until I explain this policy to them. Then, after receiving the explanation, they walk thoughtfully away and are quiet for some time.

Now, on to the anecdote.

A young lady walked into my room during fourth period. In her hand she held a review. Lo! It was the afore mentioned review that I had assined as extra credit. As it happens, the review was due the moment before the start of the test during first period. I had asked for the review in that very moment, and received nine. Coincidentally, there was a tenth review, but it was on the young lady who walked into my room during fourth period. That young lady was (gasp) tardy to my class this morning, as she is most mornings, and missed the call for the review. Now here she was, standing before me, asking me to take the review despite the fact that I already took it approximately six hours ago.

After telling her I would not take it (a delicious moment for any teacher), she begged me to be fair and to enter the wee numbers into the gradebook for her immaculately completed-the-night-before review. Again I told her no. I also asked her what she meant by asking me to be fair. I reminded her that it would not be fair at all for me to take it, as the rest of the students who turned theirs in did so this morning at the deadline.

As our conversation went on, she reminded me of her tardy, which she apparently thought would help her case. It did not, but gave me ammunition, as up to that moment I had not remembered she was tardy (since it happens about three times a week, her tardiness has stopped being something I notice and remember). I reminded her that the rest of the students were here on time to turn in their reviews in at the deadline. For me to take her review now would, again, be unfair.

As a last ditch effort to reap what extra credit she could, she bunted with, "But no one is watching!" I then whipped out the plaque I have that says, "Integrity is doing the right thing when no one else is watching." It has come in handy many times for manipulating students, as it did today. With the saddest puppy dog face you have ever seen, she finally gave in and skulked out of my room, probably not realizing she was the poster child for teenagers thinking that them not getting their way is "unfair."

As a teacher, being fair is difficult. I do not always succeed at it, but I do try to when I can. Naturally, I like some students better than others, because in life, no matter what your education classes try to tell you, some people are just generally more likable than others. I try to assign fair assignments that are completable for all students. I try to make small groups that will consist of students who can help one another.

Inevitably, I have to have a "life isn't stinking fair" paragraph. When these kids get out of this building, and go into the real world, they will and do find that life is indeed unfair sometimes. People will cheat you, you will cheat people. People let you down, etc. As an educator and a pseudo-parent to these children, it is my duty to be as fair as I possibly can. In my mind, "fair" means "stable." It means "dependable." The rules are always the same, and they are the same for everyone. We could all use a little bit more of that in our lives, I think. So many of my kids have really horrible home lives, and if I can provide that stability for them, then good for me (and them). They may not like it sometimes that they cannot do whatever they please, but they will be better for it in the end. At least, I hope so.

Dum spiro spero, mei amici.

Valete, Magistra

Doodie.

Salvete,

Every day, after third period, I have to stand in the hall for 10 minutes and do "duty" (laugh, go ahead). The hall in question is a cross-roads. It intersects the bottom of a set of stairs, two major hallways, a bathroom, and is 20 feet from the cafeteria. My only job here is to make sure the children keep walking. That is it. That is all I have to do.

For your convenience, I have provided a diagram. While the whole duty thing may sound easy, and easy it can be, there are children who do not want to make it easy.

Take Joe for example (code name in effect). Every day, Joe stands at the same spot. He is the red dot on the diagram above. And every day, I walk out there during passing period, and politely ask him to move. I say, "Sir, I need you to continue walking, please." I say it with a smile. I say it with sweetness. I should be the Sugar Plum Fairy. Where is my freaking tutu?

Usually, Joe rolls his eyes, stands there just long enough to make it look like he is not moving because I asked him to but of his own free will, then goes on his way. Today, however, was special.

I put on my usual sugary sweetness, and for the first time, he retaliates! He says confrontationally, "Don't you have anything to do besides bother me? Gah! Get a new hobby!" I say, "Sir, I'm only doing my job. I ask the same thing of everyone." This is where I wanted to tell him he is not special, but I held it in. I am a professional, after all. He continued in the same veine for about a minute, going on about my "hobby" of harassing him in particular.

But you know what? At the end of his harangue, he moved on, like he does every day. Perhaps he thinks I will not bother him tomorrow, since he verbally abused me today. Actually, his "rapier wit" makes me want to go out there even sooner. I am motivated to go to duty! It is a miracle, and I have Joe to thank. I should make him a card. You know what it would say?

It would say, "Thank you. See you tomorrow."

Valete,

Magistra

S! F! D! B!

Salvete,

A student got up and went outside to blow his nose. Though this student is usually flippant and somewhat offensive, he was actually very polite and wore nice clothes today.

Anyway, he finished his nose-blowing and came back in. He shoots, he misses! He said, "S!" Another student went, "F!" They said the letters. As if I would not know what they were abbreviating. They do think I am dumb, since I am an adult and have had life experiences, so why wouldn't they abbreviate?

I said, "Please do not use such harsh letters." They did not get it. I am not kidding.

Valete,
Magistra

?

Salvete.

Same kid as the backpack locker infuriation post.

I give the kids a worksheet as a tool to help them with a debate on Friday.

He asks, "Do we have to fill this out?"

Really?

REALLY?

Ok.

_____

I wrote the above post in a flourish of disgust and anger. However, upon further reflection, I feel that the episode as described is insufficient. It looks like the kind of thing any high schooler would say. I like this kid, in a way. The way is: He is good at academics. The way I get frustrated with this kid is he gives me attitude about everything I say. He was butting into a conversation I was having with another student, and I asked him to please mind his own business. He goes off and makes a huge deal about, "OK IF THAT'S HOW YOU WANT TO BE!" In fact, it was not how I wanted to be. I wanted to tell him to take his arrogance out of my classroom until he could act his age, but I did not. Because I am an adult. I AM AN ADULT.

The thing is, when you think you are an adult, you think you can say whatever you want. However, when you are an adult, you cannot just go around spouting whatever you want. We call people who do that "unlikable" or "rude" or "idiots." We call children who do that "unparented" or "in need of better teachers." Do you see the issue here? When adults do those behaviors, it is on the adults. When children do those behaviors, it is on the adults. Therefore, these children who have never been held accountable for their I-think-I-am-an-adult attitudes become adults. Then, they are mystified when they lose their job.

Now the blog post feels sufficient.

Valete,
Magistra

It's Like A Chicken...

Salvete,

One of my kids just started making chicken noises. Ah, the dream job!

So, I only have six students right now, due to two absences, two in ISS, one at a tennis tournament, and two in TELPAS. I think it really may be the dream job. I did not get into graduate school, so it is time once again to start accentuating the positive. I only "work" 187 days a year. On top of that I have eight days I can take off at will. I get to make a difference (every teacher has to tell herself this). I get to make a difference. I have to make a difference or why am I here?

Anyway, the kids have been good. None of them have gotten beaten up in the last two weeks, and though some of them just informed me they have never heard of the "Oregon Trail" computer game, they are being generally likable. I know that them being likable is not really interesting or blogworthy, but I thought I would report it anyway (since we are accentuating the positive, after all). I was not assigned an Advisory class (20 minute TAKS instruction class on Tuesday/Wednesday/Thursday), so I get an extra break after second period to breathe. Things at work really could not be better, unless second period had a vocalchordectomy.

Today is the first day of Lent. What better time than to reflect on the joy of my job? In a season of self examination and self sacrifice, I would say there is real happiness in being a teacher. At this moment, writing this blog, I really believe that.

Salvete,
Magistra

Go with the Fluo[rine] (or, What Happens When You Assign An Asinine Project)

Salvete,

During my conference period, as I come around the corner and start to unlock my room, I hear, "Are you Mrs. ----?"

This could mean one of several things:
1) The Anime Children have recruited another Anime Child.
2) I am in trouble (unlikely).
3) I am getting interviewed for the paper or yearbook.
4) I have something someone wants.

In this case, the answer was behind door number four. The students asked, "Can we use your classroom to make a science video?"

This is not something you expect to hear in my hallway. The closest science room is, well, not very close. So, like the pro I am, I make a face expressing my confusion but let them in anyway. It is not like I have kids right now, and clearly, since I am blogging, I do not have a whole lot else on my plate at the moment.

They proceed to get on a computer, and door number four is opened again. They need speakers, so I provide. I ask what their project is over, and they answer, Platinum, and once the speakers are hooked up proceed to play an odd version of "Poker Face" by Lady Gaga. It might be as bad as the Glee version, though I am not sure anything is that awful.

Ladies and Gentlemen, the hit you have been waiting for: Platinum Rap by Things 1&2, feat. Mutant Poker Face.

To close, because I could not resist some periodic table joke...

Q: Why did Chuck Norris destroy the periodic table?
A: Because he only recognizes the element of surprise.

Valete,
Magistra

No.

Salvete.

This was written in frustration.

"No" is not a word students like to hear. Heck, adults do not like to hear it either. Let's be honest with ourselves. When someone tells us no, it makes us feel like less of a human since our choice is being taken from us.

"Can I go to my locker?" the student asks. I at least have the (feigned) courtesy to ask why. He says, "Because I have stuff in my bag that I don't need."

Now, you would think that perhaps I might say yes. Such a request to relieve oneself of unneeded school supplies is not unreasonable. If it had been during passing period I would have said yes. If he had not already asked to go somewhere and received an answer to the negative, I would have said yes. If he didn't treat me like a jerk every day for the last four months, I would have said yes.

And yet, when I said no, he acted as though I were imposing some sort of unreasonable restriction on him. What a horror, not to be able to go to your locker at will! What an inconvenience. Heaven forbid he be inconvenienced. (Added later) I just asked him, "Please pick your head up." He moved it so that it was still down but he could see. I said again, "Please pick your head up." He made the tongue-click-I'm-so-inconvenienced-by-your-request noise. ARG! (End of late addition).

Don't get me wrong. I like this kid. He is a great student, very intelligent. We had a good rapport at the start of the year. What happened? Who can say? My first inclination is to blame myself, but I choose not to do so. I have treated him with nothing but courtesy, and if he wishes to hold some sort of odd grudge for no apparent reason, who am I to deny him that? I dare not withhold the rights to which a sixteen-year-old is entitled. I dare not inconvenience the poor boy.

Valete,
Magistra

Anime Club Shirts!

Salvete!!!!!!!!!

I'm so excited about our shirts for Anime Club. here is the design!

Front:

Back:

Awesome, I know! They are $12 if you want one. Just send me an email or something! Sales run through March 11th!

Valete,

Magistra