You know you’ve been a teacher too long when you’re sitting in the bar and the bartender points toward the pool tables and yells, “FIGHT!” and your first reaction is to go break it up…
Every now and then, as a teacher, you get the thrill of seeing a student GET IT.
When it happens, you rejoice.
Today I rejoiced.
We were working on conditional statements, converse statements, and biconditional statements. One of the examples I used with the class went thusly:
A teenager is a person who is over 12 years old. Write the three statements and determine if this is a valid definition. If it isn’t give a counter-example.
When I asked for a volunteer to read their answers one young lady volunteered immediately.
If you are a teenager then you are older than 12.
If you are older than 12 then you are a teenager.
You are a teenager if and only if you are older than 12.
This is false. I’m older than 12 and I’m not a teenager.
Very good. But how old are you anyway?
I’m 19.
But you just said you weren’t a teenager.
I’m not.
(confused look from the teacher) Huh? What do you mean you aren’t a teenager?
I don’t live with my parents anymore. I have an apartment.
(confused look from the teacher continues) What does that have to do with it?
Teenagers live with their parents.
But, you’re nineTEEN. That makes you a TEENager.
(light bulb illuminates) OH! That’s what TEENage means! OH! I am still a teenager! Cool, I thought I was like getting old.
At least they’re learning sumthin’…
Last year the administration in my school decided we needed some type of “in-school” tutoring, or, as it was known in my day, study hall. There was much discussion, many attempts at working out the schedule, much gnashing of teeth. Finally the committee that had been appointed to figure this out (and ask me how many teachers were included. go ahead ask me. that’s right, none) came up with a final schedule.
You need a little background before I continue this tale. Our negotiated agreement, a.k.a. our contract, states that teachers must be in the building 15 minutes before the first bell. For the past umpteen years the first bell has been at 7:50 and the tardy bell for first period has rung at 7:55. With this set-up teachers reported at 7:35. We stay 15 minutes after the last bell, which rings at 2:50, so we are free to leave at 3:05. Now, most teachers get there before 7:35 and most stay after 3:05, but contractually thats the length of our day. Ask us nice and we have no problem being flexible. Tell us with an attitude though…
So…
The new schedule for this year was going to have the first bell at 7:45 and the tardy bell for “zero” hour at 7:50. The association, a.k.a. union pointed out to the administration that this was a violation of our negotiated agreement, that they can’t start school until 7:50.
An aside. I know many of you are thinking, what’s the big deal about 5 minutes? Well, if you’re a teacher you know that if you give the administration 5 minutes, it won’t be long and they’ll want an hour. We just wanted them to work within the negotiated agreement. If they can’t do that, then why negotiate an agreement in the first place…
Well, the schedule went back to committee. Eventually they decided that the tardy bell would ring at 7:50 and they would just tell the kids that they had to be in class by then.
Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight.
You can imagine how that worked out.
The principal has developed a way around his problem. The 5 assistant principals are placed in strategic areas around the campus. At 7:45 they each have an air-horn that they blast for 15 seconds. This is the kids cue to head to class. When I asked Mr. Principal about this his response was…
are you ready for this?
with an innocent look on his face…
he says,
“We’re not ringing a bell.”
A word problem for the real world:
Johnny’s science class has devoted the last 4 weeks to practice drills for the state-mandated reading test. If he takes 2 end-of-instruction tests over the next 3 days how many Disney videos will he see over the last 2 weeks of school?
Somebody call the President. My school administration has discovered the solution to the energy crisis.
We got an email today:
Due to high energy costs all personnel must turn off all screen savers. Set your screen saver to “none”. Thank you for your continued help in our efforts to save money.
Now my first reaction was, this has got to be a joke.
No. The IT guy was serious.
With 1500 computers district-wide that’s gotta save us what, $0.02 per month?
In honor of a new school year:
40 THINGS I’D LOVE TO SAY OUT LOUD AT WORK
1. I can see your point, but I still think you’re full of shit.
2. I don’t know what your problem is, but I’ll bet it’s hard to pronounce.
3. How about never? Is never good for you?
4. I see you’ve set aside this special time to humiliate yourself in public.
5. I’m really easy to get along with once you people learn to see it my way.
6. I’ll try being nicer if you’ll try being smarter.
7. I’m out of my mind, but feel free to leave a message.
8. I don’t work here. I’m a consultant.
9. It sounds like English, but I can’t understand a damn word you’re saying.
10. Ahhh…I see the screw-up fairy has visited us again..
11. I like you. You remind me of myself when I was young and stupid.
12. You are validating my inherent mistrust of strangers.
13. I have plenty of talent and vision; I just don’t give a damn.
14. I’m already visualizing the duct tape over your mouth.
15. I will always cherish the initial misconceptions I had about you.
16. Thank you. We’re all refreshed and challenged by your unique point of view.
17. The fact that no one understands you doesn’t mean you’re an artist.
18. Any connection between your reality and mine is purely coincidental.
19. What am I? Flypaper for freaks!?
20. I’m not being rude. You’re just insignificant.
21. It’s a thankless job, but I’ve got a lot of Karma to burn off.
22. Yes, I am an agent of Satan, but my duties are largely ceremonial.
23. And your crybaby, whiny-assed opinion would be…?
24. Do I look like a people person?
25. This isn’t an office. It’s Hell with fluorescent lighting.
26. I started out with nothing and still have most of it left.
27. Sarcasm is just one more service we offer.
28. If I throw a stick, will you leave?
29. Errors have been made. Others will be blamed.
30. Whatever kind of look you were going for, you missed.
31. I’m trying to imagine you with a personality.
32. A cubicle is just a padded cell without a door.
33. Can I trade this job for what’s behind door #1?
34. So many freaks, not enough circuses.
35. Nice perfume. Must you marinate in it?
36. Chaos, panic, and disorder – my work here is done.
37. How do I set a laser printer to stun?
38. I thought I wanted a career; turns out I just wanted a salary.
39. Who lit the fuse on your tampon?
40. Oh, I get it… like humor… only different.
Supposedly True Story from Houston Medical Center :
A man went to the hospital to have his wedding ring cut off from his “hoohoo“. According to the Nurse attending, the patient’s girlfriend found the ring in his pants pocket and got so mad at him, she
used petroleum jelly to slip the ring on his “hoohoo” while he as asleep.
What’s worse?
1) Having your girlfriend find out you’re married.
2) Explaining to your wife how your wedding ring got on your “Hoohoo”
3) Or finding out your “hoohoo” fits through your wedding ring.
Famous words of wisdom from my wife.
Yesterday I wasn’t feeling well all day. Not seriously ill, just off a little. I passed the feeling off to end of the school year doldrums. I went home after work and flopped on the couch.
My wife came home and fixed dinner. Sweet and sour chicken, one of my favs. About two bites into my meal I started feeling nauseous. My legs and arms began to feel ‘jello-ey’ and the room started to swim. Before too long I was fighting hard to stay awake. I have, in the past, had problems with my sugar so I have a glucometer. Took a sample. 484. At that point my wife insisted we go to the ER.
When we first got there my oxygen level, I forget the word, was 90 and that seemed to worry some people.
Long story short [too late] they did their voodoo on me and I got to feeling better. While sitting in the room waiting for somebody to come look at me again I noticed that of the many wires I was hooked up to was one measuring that oxygen level. I started doing some deep breathing to see if I could affect the machine. Sure enough, after some deep breaths the number would go up a little. There was also a line running along that changed the deeper I was breathing. Cool. I then wondered to myself if I could hold my breath long enough to flatten that line out.
Turns out I can.
It also turns out that when that line goes flat alarms start going off everywhere and people come hauling ass into the room with crash carts and things…
My dear wife, who has put up with me for 27 years, smacked me in the head and apologized to everyone for her dumbass husband.
It turns out that all by blood work looked normal, except my sugar. The doctor asked if I had any stress in my life right now. Uh, yeah, at least until an hour ago…
I’m passing out finals to my third period algebra 2 class. I get to the desk of one girl, LM, and as I’m laying the test on her desk she says, “I’m exempt.”
“No you’re not. The exemption policy is you are exempt if you have a C or better and less than 3 absences. You’ve missed 7 days and your grade is D-.”
“No, I’m exempt. Ask my counselor.”
“I don’t have to ask anybody, you’re taking the test.”
“No I’m not.” And then she got up and left.
I get an email a few minutes later from the counselor.
Mr. W, LM is exempt from her finals. She has a doctor’s note and is suffering from short term amnesia. Please record her final grade as whatever she had without her final.
WTF? I responded and asked if anyone has verified this doctor’s note. Apparently they have.
I have to at least give her credit for originality.
On Friday I passed out study guides/reviews for this week’s upcoming final exams. 150 questions, multiple choice, with the answers attached. I told them to be sure to work them over the weekend and ask questions Monday.
Quite a few students asked if I was going to work the problems in class.
No. I’ll answer specific questions, but I’m not working all the problems. Wtih 150 questions that would be impractical.
But… but… you’re not going to teach us how to do these?
Well, lil’ darlin’s, that’s what I spent the last 175 days doing. That’s why you took notes. That’s why you have a textbook.
But… but… you’re the teacher, teach us how to do this.
You don’t understand. I’ve already taught you. Now its your turn. Show me what you’ve learned.
This isn’t fair. You HAVE to teach us.
I am teaching you. I’m teaching you that at some point you have to do it on your own.
How do you do problem number 1?
How do YOU do problem number 1? If you have a specific question, go ahead and ask. How do you do the problem is not a specific question. A specific question is, “when I worked this this is the answer I got. where did I make a mistake?”
This isn’t fair. Wah, wah, wah, wah, wah.
I’m going to have give Mr. Johnson a call. Mr. Johnson is the substitiute I use occasionally during the year. On days that I don’t feel like teaching I post the following note on the wall:
Hello, my name is Mr. Johnson. Mr. W wasn’t feeling well and had to go home. He left work for you. I am not a math person, I majored in History, so if you have any questions, I can’t help. Please do your work quietly. Thanks.
Then I sit at my desk and only answer to the name Mr. Johnson. I even had the computer tech guy make me an ID badge with the name Mr. Johnson. The first time I do this it takes the kids awhile to catch on. Then they’ll kinda play along.
You sure look like Mr. W. — Yeah people tell me that all the time. I’ve got more hair than him though.
Hey, if your a history major, what (random history question)? — Well, (correct answer to their history question, I mean really, how hard is high school history?)
The kids will try real hard to trip me up, but I can usually make it through.
If you’re a fellow teacher reading this, Mr/Mrs Johnson comes in handy for those days you just can’t bring yourself to teach. Try it some time, it can be fun.
Chalk dust makes me sneeze 