Mrs. H 1, Student T 0

My freshmen were writing an essay this week. It's about Romeo and Juliet. From what I've seen of them, these essays are not going to be fun to grade. Not fun at all. Even less fun will be the three extra days I've decided we are going to spend revisiting these essays when we get back from Spring Break.

Ick.

I'm not sure why these essays are so bad, but they are. It might be because it's the week before Spring Break and none of my kids wants to be writing an essay right now. Well, it's too bad they don't want to, because that's the lesson plan.

And we don't deviate from the lesson plan.

Actually, sometimes we do. But when we do it's because I want to, not because they want to. It's AWESOME to be the one in charge! I don't think it ever gets old, does it?

But, I digress. (I do that a lot, don't I?)

On Tuesday, students were supposed to come to class with a completed first draft. Those who did were dismissed to the computer lab right outside my door to type their essays. Those who didn't have a complete draft were not allowed to leave the room. They had to stay in the classroom and finish their drafts (for half credit, by the way - if I say it's due on Tuesday, I mean it's due on Tuesday!).

I spent the hour moving between the computer lab and classroom monitoring students. One boy, who was stuck in the classroom because he wasn't prepared, was not very happy with me. When I ventured back into the classroom with C to look up his grades on the computer for him, T loudly complained.

He said, "Mrs. H! I DON'T want to write this essay!"

Without thinking I responded, "T! I didn't want to hear you complain today. I guess we both lose, don't we?"

Oh, man. One day my mouth is going to get me into trouble.

The kids thought I was being funny, though, especially C. He said, "OH! Mrs. H 1, T 0!"

Wink. Wink.

One of my darling freshmen girls hurried to catch up with me while we were walking to an assembly the other day. She had a question she needed to know the answer to.

C: "Mrs. H? I was wondering..."

Me: "Yes, C?"

C: "Well, is it possible to wink with both eyes at the same time?"

Me: "Yes. I believe it's called 'blinking.'"

Man, I love my job.

You'd think I would have learned

I've been "doing poetry" with my seniors for about four weeks now, give or take a few days for crazy schedules and Silent Reading Fridays. They are SO ready to be done. I, on the other hand, find I really enjoy reading poetry and talking to people about it - even if they are 17 and not terribly fond of it. We've read all sorts of things, and even incorporated a few songs into the mix. I'm especially proud of the pairing of "To an Athlete Dying Young" by Housman with "Candle in the Wind" by Elton John. I exposed those stinkers to a great poem (with some pretty tough vocab / syntax) AND a great song! They had good discussion in spite of themselves.

Ahh. The power I wield as a teacher is exhilarating! Whether they like Elton John or hate him, they had to listen to him because (are you ready for this??) I said so.

But I digress. Today we did a review for the test they will take tomorrow. Yesterday we spent the entire period discussing three of their terms: assonance, consonance, and alliteration. All three of these terms are very similar, so I thought we should spend some time identifying each of them in a poem so my kids could understand it better.

In case you aren't current with your poetry terminology, here are the definitions for you:

Assonance is the repetition of vowel sounds in the middle or at the end of words close to each other in a line or lines of poetry.

Consonance is the repetition of consonant sounds in the middle or at the end of words close to each other in a line or lines of poetry.

Alliteration is the repetition of consonant or vowel sounds at the beginning of words close to each other in a line or lines of poetry.

Got it?

They didn't.

Well, to be fair, first and third hours did a pretty good job of it. For the review I created a PowerPoint presentation. One slide had the definition of the word, the next had the word itself on it. I would show them the definition, and they each wrote what word they thought it was on a mini-whiteboard and held it up so I could see. (This is a GREAT method for review, by the way! Kids LOVE to write on the whiteboards, everyone gets to participate rather than the same one or two kids yelling out all the answers, and I can see at a glance how many kids "get it" and how many kids are clueless.)

So even though first and third hours did pretty well, sixth hour really seemed to struggle. Ever the helpful one (that is what they pay me for after all), I thought I would give them an easy way to remember the difference between the words.

I said, "Assonance is the repetition of what kind of sounds?"

They said, "Vowels."

I said, "That's right. And where is the repetition again?"

They said, "In the middle or at the end of words."

I said, "You got it. Here's an easy way to remember it. Assonance is the repetition of vowel sounds. What does assonance start with?"

I was hoping they'd say, "A." Because then I planned to say, "That's right and 'a' is a vowel."

After almost ten years of teaching, you'd think I would have anticipated what they did say. But I didn't.

When I said, "What does assonance start with?" three of my most helpful boys loudly replied in unison, "ASS!"

When will I learn?

The joy of teaching

This conversation happened today during sixth hour. One of my senior boys, let's call him G, wanted to know if I could recommend a book for him. Books I can recommend, but I need to know what someone likes to read so I can think of something tailored to his/her interests. I'm not trying to brag or anything, but I've got a bit of a reputation amongst the high school set for being able to find the "best" books for them to read.

Okay, so I am bragging, but you need to know that so you can truly appreciate the conversation G and I had.

G approached me at the beginning of class and asked me, “Mrs. Hocking? Can you recommend a book for me? I have a track meet tomorrow and I need a new book.”

I replied, "Sure, G. What do you like to read?”

G said, “I will read anything. I like to read all kinds of things.”

I said, “Okay. Do cuss words offend you in a book?”

G, “No.”

Me, “Okay, well, Chris Crutcher wrote a book about running. It’s called Ironman. He used to teach around here, and all his stuff is set in Eastern Washington and Northern Idaho.”

G, “Oh, I don’t read sports books.”

Me, “Really? So you meant to say, ‘I’ll read anything except sports books,’ right?”

G, “Yes.”

Me, “Have you read Animal Farm?”

G, “I don’t read George Orwell. My other English teacher made me read 1984 and I didn’t understand it. I don’t like books about government. Why does he write about government and politics?”

Me, “Animal Farm is different, but okay. How about a book called The Gospel According to Larry? It’s about a kid who wants to get the attention of a girl he likes so he starts a website, but then it goes viral and he gets national attention. He starts to make a difference in more ways than he could have ever imagined.”

G, (shaking his head before I’m even finished talking), “No, that sounds like politics. And also I don’t read books about girls.”

Me, “Okay, so you really meant, ‘I don’t read sports books or political books or books about girls,’ then, right? How about science fiction? Do you do science fiction? Ender's Game is a really good book about a boy who has to save the planet.”

G, “Yes. Wait, how long is it? I don’t read books that are more than 250 pages.”

Me, “For someone who will read anything, your list is getting very specific about what you won’t read. How about the Cirque du Freak books, have you read any of those?”

G, “I don’t read series books.”

Me, “G, what DO you read?”

G, “Anything. Do you have a recommendation for me?”

At this point in the conversation, several of his classmates burst into loud laughter in the middle of silent reading. I'm pretty sure they were laughing at me and my gluttony for punishment.

Me, “I think you should read Ender’s Game. I think you would like it.”

G, “Can I see the cover? That’s how I usually pick books.”

Me, “Nope. When you ask me for suggestions you don't get to choose by the cover.”

I wrote him a list of four titles I thought he should look into, and sent him off to the library. Do you think he came back from the library with any of them?

No, he did not. He apparently looked at the cover of Ender's Game but decided it wasn't to his liking. So he grabbed the first one off the shelf that had a cover he liked. He’s using the sticky note with the list of titles I gave him as a bookmark.

Sometimes I have a hard time not beating my head against a brick wall. Or concrete…that’s more plentiful around here.

R's Rap

One of the boys in my fifth hour class last year (I LOVE that it's summer now and I can say "last year" - even though it was just last week!) was one of those wild and crazy types. During my poetry unit, I play ABBA's "Money, Money, Money" and we compare the lyrics to Edwin Arlington Robinson's poem "Richard Cory." It's a great lesson that usually goes over pretty well with kids. This particular kid asked if he could sing the song to the class, and I said sure. He backed out, of course, because I think he was expecting me to tell him no.

After that, I periodically offered him random chances to "sing us a little song...extra credit if you throw in a dance move or two!" He always turns me down.

On the last day I had that class, he asked if he could rap for the class. I, of course, said sure, but that I wanted to proofread / approve the lyrics before he did it. He said that was fair and got busy writing his own rap about English class.

He gave me the lyrics, I approved them, and guess what he did? He chickened out again.

Oh, well. He was really excited when I pinned the lyrics to my bulletin board where I put student pictures and notes.

Here, for your viewing pleasure, are the lyrics to the nonsensical rap that the public will never hear. (I particularly like his last two lines...I thought they were the most clever!)


Mrs. Hocking,
This class was so cool!
If you did not like it you’re a fool
Who always drools.
Writing poems was the worst part,
I would have rather got run over by a go kart.
We had this class fifth hour,
And now that it is over it feels sour.
Romeo and Juliet made no sense.
Exactly why did Tybalt like to fence?
Now that the year is at a close,
It’s time to reel in the hose,
And I have to say "bye" to my bros.
See you later Mrs. Hocking,
My sophomore year is a knocking.


RH

Is it wrong that...6

Is it wrong that yesterday when J had to get up and get dressed for work I giggled a little bit as I snuggled back down under the covers?

How about when I reminded him that I don't have to go back to work for 10 weeks?

Yesterday, I was flocked

When I left the house to go to school yesterday, look what greeted me when I opened the door!

Pretty cute, huh?

At first I thought we got pranked. (Kids are always "promising" they are going to fork my lawn or tp my trees, but they never do. I'm pretty glad about that.) Turns out this is extortion.

Well, not really. It's a fund raiser (but aren't those two things one and the same?) Two of my students are trying to earn enough money to pay their way to Malibu. A Young Life camp up in Canada somewhere. I've never been myself, but I've heard it's amazing. It was popular when I was in high school, and it's popular still.

Two Young Life kids came to my house in the middle of the night and "flocked" my lawn with the plastic flamingos. Attached to a stake was a note that informed me I had been flocked and it was a fundraiser to send J and C to Malibu. If I donate $20, they will come back to my house and take the flamingos on to someone else's house (someone of my choosing), or if I donate $30 they will come back to my house and remove the flamingos. And, if I want to be a Scrooge, they will come back for free and take them away.

It's highway robbery, I tell you.

But, the kids invovled are amazing young people, and Malibu is a pretty worthy goal, so I bit. I called one of the perpetrators in to my room and wrote the stinker a check. He's going to come back at 4:00 and remove them...

then he's taking them to my friend's house...

The only thing keeping me out of jail

The only thing keeping me out of jail right now is my kids. The adults around here are making me homicidal. My normally kind, even-tempered co-workers are just plain evil lately.

I'm serious.**

If people don't start chilling out, or at least quit complaining about EVERYTHING, I may end up hurting someone.

While the adults I'm subjected to day in and day out are driving me to the brink of violence, my kids are keeping me sane. Of course they're getting antsy for school to be over and counting the minutes till we're free (all 2,750 of 'em...yeah, I'm counting, too), but they've been that way for about 8 months now. I'm used to it.

And I can tell them to quit it.

Seniors are simultaneously thrilled and terrified by their impending graduation. It's like pulling teeth to get them to work right now, but they're doing it because they have to. If they don't pass my class, they can't graduate. And I'm not afraid to remind them of that when they start to slack.

They've been working on their final project for the last month, and we've been doing it all by e-mail. They work on a draft of a portion of the project, send it to me as an attachment, I use the "insert comments" portion of MS Word to edit and give feedback, then save and resend to the kid. The jury is still out on whether I am brilliant or stupid for doing it this way. It's been good because I can get them to do multiple drafts of things when it's all electronic, but it's bad because I've been chained to my computer for a month and I can't stand another minute to do a blog entry. It's good because we have saved a TON of paper and printer toner, but it's bad because I have been chained to my computer. It's good because kids get almost instant feedback and can work from home, but it's bad because I have been chained to my computer. (Are you seeing my problem?)

But, back to my point. It's at this point in the year that I start to forget all the annoying things they've done, and start to miss my kids terribly - and they haven't even left yet. Every year at this time I think to myself that I've got the most amazing students, and nobody could ever be better than these kids. But I say it every year...they can't all be that amazing, can they?

And while they say (whoever "they" are) teachers don't have favorites, it's really not true. We have favorites. We can't help it. I try my hardest, though, not to let any of the kids know. As far as my kids are concerned, they would each tell you they were my favorite. That's the way it should be. They should all feel equally special and important.

But I'm not going to lie, I do have my favorites.

Here are the highlights of a series of e-mails between me and one of my goofy senior boys - and yeah, he's one of my favorites. I think you'll see why by the end of the exchange.

He’s been telling me that he’s sent me electronic copies of parts of his project but I haven’t returned them. I’ve been telling him he’s crazy. I have gotten some of the pieces he's referring to, but not all of them. Of those I received, I returned them all within 24 hours. Finally, the other day, I asked him if he could show me his sent mail folder. We quickly realized that I was right (was there really any question about that?) and he was wrong.

Here’s the exchange from a few days ago: Orange is what I wrote, blue is what he wrote, green is my commentary. (Please excuse his horrible grammar and spelling...it's taking a lot for me to leave it alone and not edit it. Rest assured that he doesn't write like that in class - there's just something so informal about e-mail. Either that or he's allergic to the shift key and spell check gives him hives.)

From: Kristina Hocking
Sent: Wednesday, May 06, 2009 11:26 AM
To: T
Subject: RE:

You didn't fix the paragraph of explanation...are you trying to give me gray hair? :)

6/10


From: T
Sent: Wednesday, May 06, 2009 3:49 PM
To: Kristina Hocking
Subject:

sorry i think i got it this time :) and i would never give you grey hair mrs.hocking that would be terrible


From: T
Sent: Wednesday, May 06, 2009 3:59 PM
To: Kristina Hocking
Subject:

ok i just sent you revised pieces of great grandmas quotes and the I am poem. hopefully we got all this worked out :) but i got a question for one of the written pieces it says that you can do a newspaper article? how long does that piece have to be because i was thinking of doing a wedding announcement


From: Kristina Hocking
Sent: Wednesday, May 06, 2009 4:02 PM
To: T
Subject: RE:

A wedding announcement wouldn't be long enough for a written piece...but if you included a picture from the wedding, you could definitely do it as a visual. If you want to do a newspaper article, it needs to be about something newsworthy, and that can be hard to find sometimes.

I got the other two pieces. Pretty sure you are trying to give me grey hair...or at least confuse me!


From: T
Sent: Wednesday, May 06, 2009 4:08 PM
To: Kristina Hocking
Subject:

ok thats what i thought. but thanks ill figure something out. and no i am not trying to give you grey hair you're my favorite teacher come on haha.


From: Kristina Hocking
Sent: Thursday 07, 2009 9:02 AM
To: T
Subject: RE:

T -

Gray hairs...I can feel 'em...

Mrs. H

7/10

(The text we are discussing in our e-mails has been copied and pasted below. The brackets and kh with a number are my embedded comments. You can see them as footnotes below his text. I LOVE the insert comments feature of MS Word! Saved about a million and thirteen trees this year!)

Lenore’s famous sayings
By T

"Would you like something to eat or drink?"
Lenore always wants people to be well fed and feeling good, so this is practically the first thing she says whenever anyone walks into her house. Typically she offers cookies to her visitors. Grandma [kh1] has had a cookie jar in the same place on her counter for as long as anyone can remember. When I visit her, I [kh2] always get a cookie.


"An apple a day keeps the doctor away."
Grandma [kh3] always says she wants her grandchildren to be healthy. Part of this is eating healthy foods. When we visit, she only allows us to eat one cookie. If we want more, we have to sneak into the kitchen and the cookie jar. [kh4] .[kh5]

"Always strive your hardest to be what you want to be and you will achieve it."
Grandma [kh6] always talks to [kh7] about your future and what you’re going to do. You can't find a time to visit her when she is not interested in what you are doing [kh8] She just wants me to succeed in my [kh9] life.

"I am too old to remember or even know that."
Every time Grandma [kh10] gets stumped by a question, she blames her age. She never wants to admit she may not know something, so she uses this excuse. My grandma [kh11] is 94 years old so she has a hard time remembering some things, but she's a smart lady and is still pretty sharp.

When I think of Lenore, these are the sayings that come to mind. [kh12] She says these things on a regular basis to her grandchildren and her great-grandchildren. Lenore is a great lady. You can always count on her to be a good listener. If you want someone to talk to, go visit Lenore.

[kh1]She

[kh2]I can feel the gray hairs…no first person!
[kh3]Lenore
[kh4]More gray hairs…I, me, we, us, etc. = first person
[kh5]This is a short explanation…talk about her health, or something…it just needs more
[kh6]Lenore
[kh7]Who does she talk to? A wall?
[kh8]Add a period
[kh9]Seriously…two more gray hairs…
[kh10]Lenore
[kh11]There’s another gray hair…
[kh12]At this rate, I’ll have a head full of silver hair before we get you graduated…

He sent it back to me fixed, finally, along with this note.


From: T
Sent: Thursday, May 07, 2009 11:21 AM
To: Kristina Hocking
Subject:

i think this is now done to your extremly high expectation level. please dont let your hair turn grey.

sincerly t aka your favorite student


(Bold, isn't he? Announcing to me that he's my favorite. He's right, he is one of my favorites, but he doesn't know that!)

**I'm not really serious. I can't hardly kill bugs in my house. I'm all talk and no action. For now.**

School Laughs

This was passed around at school last week. I have no idea where it was originally published, or if it really is from Jeff Foxworthy. It may just be in the "You Might be a Redneck" style and have nothing to do with him, but it's funny nonetheless.

Those I've highlighted in orange struck a nerve with me, and I found them particularly funny.

Jeff Foxworthy on School Employees

YOU might be a school employee if you believe the playground should be equipped with a Ritalin salt lick.

YOU might be a school employee if you want to slap the next person who says, 'Must be nice to work 8 to 3:30 and have summers off.

YOU might be a school employee if it is difficult to name your own child because there's no name you can come up with that doesn't bring high blood pressure as it is uttered.

YOU might be a school employee if you believe, 'shallow gene pool' should have its own box on a
report card.

YOU might be a school employee if when out in public, you feel the urge to snap your fingers at children you do not know and correct their behavior.

YOU might be a school employee if you have no social life between August and June.

YOU might be a school employee if you think people should have a government permit before being allowed to reproduce.

YOU might be a school employee if you wonder how some parents MANAGED to reproduce.

YOU might be a school employee if you laugh uncontrollably when people refer to the staff room as the 'lounge.'

YOU might be a school employee if you think caffeine should be available in intravenous form.

YOU might be a school employee if meeting a child's parent instantly answers this question, 'Why is this kid like this?'

YOU might be a school employee if you would choose a mammogram over a parent conference.

YOU might be a school employee if you think someone should invent antibacterial pencils and crayons...and desks and chairs for that matter!

YOU might be a school employee if the words 'I have college debt for this?' has ever come out of your mouth.

YOU might be a school employee if you know how many days, minutes, and seconds are left in the school year!

I've Never

This week my Ignite mentors had classroom visits. The theme of the month was "Diversity" and they played a few games and led some great discussions with freshmen centered around that theme.

The mentors that visit my sixth hour class are amazing. They did an absolutely fantastic job this month. I was very impressed. They finished the lesson plan with about eight minutes left, so they organized an impromptu game of "I've Never."

Have you ever played this game? Basically, you put chairs in a circle. Enough chairs for every person except one. The person without a chair stands in the middle of the circle and says, "I've never...." and names something they've never done. The people sitting in the chairs listen to what's been said, and then, if it is something they HAVE done, they get up and run around the circle looking for an empty chair. The person in the middle tries to grab an empty chair, too. The person who is left standing when all the chairs are taken is the one who gives the next "I've Never" phrase. For example, if J were in the middle of the circle, he might say, "I've never been to Mexico." I have been to Mexico (twice - it was amazing and I'm dying to go back, by the way!), so I would stand up and look for a new chair.

Most of the time the statements make several people get up and move, but sometimes nobody does. It is always interesting to see what gets a response and what doesn't. Sometimes kids get very "personal" and will name something so specific that only their best friend qualifies. For example, two of my mentors are step-brothers. I had no idea they were when I assigned them to both come to my class. Fortunately, not only are they brothers, but they're great friends. But C was up in the middle and he tried once or twice to name things, but nobody moved. So then he looked at his brother and said, "I've never played SHS football and worn #22." B had no choice but to get up and take his brother's place in the center of the circle.

When B ended up in the middle again, he thought he'd be funny and say something he never thought anyone would have done.

B: "I've never set myself on fire."

He got the expected giggles, but they turned into hysterics when one of my freshmen stood up and moved to the center of the circle leaving his chair open for B.

D: "It was my arm and it was an accident."

Well, I never.

Facing my fears

Okay, so I missed a few posts this last week. But it was for a good reason: I was working out at the gym J and I just joined!

We went on Monday evening for a tour. The sales manager we were talking to was trying to "sell" the athletic club to us, but I told her she didn't have to work so hard: we were a sure thing. We did some research on the different gyms available in Kennewick, and knew we wanted to be members of this one. It has everything we want and more. Two swimming pools, a gym, tons of different exercise classes, weights, a circuit training room, racquetball courts, tennis courts, a hot tub, treadmills, ellipticals, personal trainers, rowing machines, bikes. You name it, they've got it. There are only two things I don't like about this club. One is the cost - it's spendy. But it's comparable to the other clubs with a pool, and I really wanted to take some water aerobics classes. And this one is in Kennewick, and fairly close to our house. The other thing I don't like about it is that every kid I know that works out does it at this gym. I'm fat, old, and out of shape. And when I exercise, my face turns purple and my head sweats excessively. I don't need any of my kids seeing that.

But this is something that J and I both want and need to do. So I faced my fears and signed up.

While we were getting the tour, we saw two former students who stopped to say hi. A third student was working the front desk. Boy, oh boy. I'm sure not going to escape knowing people there, am I? Then we walked by a studio that had an exercise class going on. The class was HUGE. There must have been 60 people in the studio, and it was loud!! It looked like a blast, though. Have you ever heard of Zumba? It's salsa inspired aerobics set to Latin music. I can't dance worth a lick, but thought I would like to give it a try anyway.

So I did. The class is offered on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. J and I went back on Tuesday and did 35 minutes on the treadmill and 30 minutes on the stationary bikes. Then J did a little bit of weights while I cheered him on. (My friend's husband is a strength coach, and he has us on a weights routine already - I didn't want to mess that up!)

Wednesday afternoon, my friend and I went to work out, and found out that there was a Zumba class later that evening. So we did 35 minutes on the treadmill and went back later for Zumba.

Let me just tell you this: I sucked. It was SO fast, and I have no rhythm...but it was a blast! You know you suck when the twelve-year-old next to you is showing you how to do the steps! She had pity on my poor pathetic soul and slowed it down to show me.

It didn't help.

But I had fun anyway! And I made it the ENTIRE hour without quitting! Even if I couldn't do all the steps, I was moving and grooving, and that's the whole point, isn't it? I don't believe I have EVER been that sweaty in my life! But I loved it and I'm going back next week.

Then, on Thursday after school we went back for more punishment. There was a class called "Group Kick" that sounded like fun, and we thought we'd check it out. While we were walking towards the studio, we passed a SHS student in the hall. She wasn't just any SHS kid, though, she's one I know. She's one of the mentors in the mentoring program I advise. She said hi, and as soon as we passed her, I turned to my friend and said, "Thank goodness she was going the other way! That's the last thing I need is a fit young teenager that I know in a class with me, seeing how uncoordinated and sweaty I am!"

We laughed and continued on.

We were standing outside the studio, waiting to go in, when a different SHS kid walked up. This one is in my first hour class. I hoped she was going to say hi and then move on, but my luck is not that good. She was waiting with two special needs young ladies for the kick class to start. Nice.

A minute or so later, the first girl we had seen came back and joined us. Great. Now I'm not laughing anymore.

A minute or so after that, a third SHS student, another one of my mentors, came and joined us. Super.

Then we moved into the studio and the instructor got set up. My friend and I were looking around the room in disbelief. The night before, there had probably been 50 or 60 people in that same studio for Zumba. That day, there were 9 of us for the group kick class. (And two of them were special needs.) Then, right before the class started, one more person came running in.

If you guessed she was a SHS student, you guessed right. N, from my third hour class, was now here. Fantastic.

I told all the girls that I was swearing them to secrecy: they could tell people we took a class together, but they were NOT allowed to tell anyone how sweaty and uncoordinated I was. They laughed at me, but I was serious.

Then the music came on and we got started.

Another fun class! Another class I made it through without quitting! But I got even sweatier than I had the night before. We're totally going back again next week! The best part about the class is that I faced my greatest fear about the gym x 4 and survived intact.

We had a "day of rest" on Friday (mostly because we were both invited to the same bbq / party and we wanted to go), and then Saturday met again to take a water aerobics class.

That was a great way to start a Saturday! I felt like I got a good workout, but wasn't wiped out like I had been after Zumba and Group Kick.

I think this club is going to be worth the money. I went four days this week, did four different workouts, and had a blast each time.

Plus, as a "signing bonus" J and I each get a free session with a personal trainer (we go on Tuesday) and a free session with someone in the circuit training room who will do a health analysis dealy. It includes a body fat percentage test. I'm pretty sure they're going to tell me I'm 95% fat...but I'm going to do it anyway.

This week has been all about facing my fears, and I've conquered them so far.

I'll talk to you again on Tuesday after a trainer kicks my butt and let you know how I feel then. But for now, I'm feeling good.

How to paint your fingernails...Amen

My student teacher is working with my freshmen on public speaking skills. The topic we assigned them was "How To" speeches. They could choose any topic they wanted (as long as it's school appropriate, of course) and write their speech. No props. We're more concerned about the speaking skills than the content of the speech.

Yesterday speeches began. One of my lovely freshmen boys, M, is giving a speech on…how to paint your nails.

You heard me, a boy is giving a speech on how to paint your fingernails.

And before you start wondering if he's, you know, gay? Or Goth? Or weird at all? The answer is no. He's a great student. Super polite. Very good natured. In fact, he's the one I wrote about in this blog entry about a story we read in class. A football player, wrestler, and baseball player. Cute. Has a girlfriend. Normal as can be. Well, he's 6'5" as a freshman, and kind of goofy, but other than that, he's perfectly normal.

He spoke way too fast for me to catch all of his speech (which, if I were to be totally honest, wasn't that good anyway), so here are some of my favorite excerpts.

The ... indicates where he talked too fast for me and I missed it.


“Okay, so you know it’s Spirit Week, and you want to get dressed up so that when people see you they’ll be like, ‘Hey, that guy likes Southridge!’…you’ve got your outfit, you’ve got the face paint. All you need now is to paint your nails. But you don’t know how. So you go looking for your mom, but she’s at work. You ask your sister, but she is going to hang out at the mall with her friends. So it’s up to you to figure it out…the most important thing is to find a bathroom – ‘cause it’s private and you can lock it. Because otherwise your little brother might walk in and say ‘what are you doing? That’s retarded!’…you need to do a clear base coat (I’m still not sure why but all the girls I talked to said it was REALLY important)…after you get your nails painted, you’re ready to go to the game and cheer for your team…In sum, you need to get your supplies, find a location, and enjoy the game. Amen.”


The student teacher told him in the future to be careful of the words he chooses (ie retarded), and M knew exactly what he was talking about.

M said, “I was going to say ‘gay’ but knew I shouldn’t.”

His neighbor pipes up with “Yesterday he said ‘homosexual’ when he was practicing with me!”

Man, I love my job.

To Whom it May Concern

Way back in February I gave my high school seniors an assignment. They were to find a senior citizen to partner with and interview them. My kids are going to create a portfolio with a variety of written and visual pieces that showcases the life of their senior partner. They are only able to do it if they have information, hence the interview assignment. This is the "culminating" project for the English department, so it's a really big deal. If they don't pass this project, they don't pass fourth quarter. If they don't pass fourth quarter, they don't pass second semester. If they don't pass second semester of English, they don't graduate.

Pretty important, right?

That's why I introduced the project right after we got back from Winter Break. Way back in January. It's not due until May. Plus, we are spending most of fourth quarter on it. I have incredibly high expectations on this project, and I don't let kids slide. I make them work their tails off for the entire quarter. I help them through it, for sure, but I make them work hard.

Periodically between January and the last week of March, I reminded kids about the interview assignment. They knew the interview was due on Monday, April 6, when we came back from Spring Break. Every day at the beginning of the hour for the entire two weeks before break I reminded kids their interviews would be due. Every day at the end of the hour for the entire two weeks before break I asked kids when their interviews were due, and they answered in chorus, "Monday, April 6. The day we come back from Spring Break!"

So, since we've talked about it for a million years, and they knew when it was due, wouldn't you think they would have had it ready to turn in?

Yeah, I thought so, too. Unfortunately, though, a rather high number of them didn't.

But life continues on and I don't wait for slackers. So I gave the kids the following assignment.


Assignment: Work on your first planning sheet for Senior to Senior. If you were a senior *slacker and did not do your interview, you are behind and need to get caught up, like yesterday. Today, instead of the planning sheet, you need to write me a note explaining why you didn’t complete your interview and what your plan for completing it is. Be specific, *slackers.

*I start off on the first day of school telling my kids that they can't be slackers. Then I tease them all year long. In my room, "slacker" is a term of endearment. It's a way to remind them their choices are important without lecturing them. One word says it all. Don't think it's mean, though. They know I love them. If I am calling them slacker I am still amused by them. It's when the joking stops and I get quiet and serious and tell them I am disappointed in them that they know it's beyond the time to get serious.*

I got some actual notes with some viable excuses. Then one was hand delivered to me by a charming young man on behalf of his good friend. It was folded in thirds and addressed "To Whom it May Concern." The boys pretended to work while surreptitiously looking at me to see if I read it yet. Curiosity got the best of me and I opened the handwritten letter.


Dear Mrs. Hocking,
Unfortunately last Friday after school my hand got caught in a wood chipper. It just so happened to be my right hand, the one I use to write. Due to some legal issues the reconstructive surgery couldn’t take place until this morning. I’m recovering quickly, though. Nothing should be due the first day back after break!

Sincerely,

K

P.S. I'll interview my grandmother tonight.



After I finished laughing, I told K that if he would just spend a fraction of the time on his work that he spends coming up with excuses for not completing the assignments, he would be acing my class hands down.

I love my kids.

I love my job.

Stereotypes

We all know that stereotypes are generally bad, right? Of course there are always exceptions to every rule, but for the most part, stereotypes are unfair and paint people in a bad light. They are usually not even true.

But here's the thing: every stereotype has a grain of truth, no matter how small, right? They don't just come out of nowhere. Let's look at one and examine it a little closer. Take a second and think of all the stereotypes you know about Italians.

Ready? Here's the list I came up with:
1. Loud
2. Intense
3. Vocal - Not afraid to voice an opinion
4. Mob / Mafia connections
5. Love food
6. Huge families, and huge family gatherings
7. Passionate

I'm sure that we could come up with more, too, if we tried. Okay, now that we have a list, I want you to think of all the Italian people you know. I would be willing to be that at least one or two of these stereotypes applies to them. Am I right? I bet you noticed, too, though, that at least one or more of these stereotypes applies to you. I am Croatian and J is Cajun, and several of these stereotypes fit both of us and our families, too.

But like I said before, not all stereotypes apply to everyone in the group that's being stereotyped. However, because there is just enough truth in a stereotype to make them plausible, it's really hard to combat them.

Take, for example, cheerleaders. There are TONS of stereotypes about cheerleaders. One of the most prevalent is probably the stereotype that they are dumb blondes, right? Now, before you get mad at me and tell me you were a cheerleader, or your best friend was, understand that I know it's not true of all cheerleaders. I know this is especially not true of SHS cheerleaders. In fact, the cheer squad for winter sports didn't have a single blonde on it. Not one. They also have an average g.p.a. above a 3.2. Many of them take multiple AP classes and do very well in them.

So wouldn't you think that smart cheerleaders who know the stereotypes would want to do everything in their power to prove them wrong?

Answer me this then: how can they knowingly and intentionally do the following two cheers:

1. Let's get a little bit rowdy.
R-O-W-D-Y.
Go Suns!

and 2. R-O-W-D-I-E,
that's the way we spell rowdy.
Rowdy. Let's get row-dy.
(Complicated hand clapping routine follows.)

How on earth can they do TWO cheers about the same word and spell it differently each time?

Do you want to tell them they are doing nothing to dispel the myth? That in fact they are perpetuating it? Or should I?

From the mouths of babes, part 11

The other day during third hour I was getting really frustrated because my kids were not listening. This time of year it gets harder and harder for seniors to be focused on school. I am not willing to give up the fight yet, though, so I just fell silent and stared at them until they got quiet. I waited until there was absolute silence for about ten seconds to prove my point.

I opened my mouth to speak, and before I could get a single word out, one of my darling boys in the back row lets out a ginormous belch.

It was disgusting and a show-stopper.

Once I quit laughing, we got back to work.

Poor guy...lucky me...

I told you awhile back that I was going to be working with a student teacher this semester. I was both excited and apprehensive as I have never done this before. I am so attached to my kids this year, though, that I wasn't willing to give them all up. I did manage to talk my good friend and department chair into splitting the day with me. Then neither of us has to give up all our kids, and he has the benefit of working with two different teachers.

For the most part, things are going pretty well. We've had some ups and downs, but things are turning around and getting better. I see some potential in him, and I'm hoping that he just continues to get better.

While he's been doing okay, I've been...well, bored. I go to school for a whole day, but I only teach two classes. Last semester I was teaching six classes a day and didn't have a prep. Now I have a prep and the student teacher is teaching my freshmen in the afternoon. I go to school, teach seniors first hour, have an hour off for my prep period, teach third hour, and then sit back and let the student teacher take over with my freshmen for the rest of the afternoon.

Life is boring.

I miss my kids.

My seniors don't know what to make of me. When they take a quiz or do an assignment, it's graded and in the computer by the end of the day, and no later than the next day. Typically, it would take me at least four or five days on average to do that. Now, it's like instantaneous feedback.

I have so much energy, and I just want to talk to them. Normally, I have an entire day to work out all that energy and 150 kids who "share the wealth" of my enthusiasm. Now I've got 55 seniors. At 7:30 in the morning, I think I'm too much for them to handle!

On the upside, I am bonding really well with my seniors. On the downside, I get bored in the afternoon. So bored, in fact, that I have been hanging out in the library shelving books and looking up book titles for the library secretary.

I've even talked the librarian into teaching me how to check out books to kids! I get to be a pretend librarian and it's a lot of fun! Honestly, it's the only thing preventing me from repeatedly banging my head against the brick walls of the school...

Yeah, that's how bored I am.

Anyway, back to my story.

On Monday, at the beginning of fourth hour, I was sitting at my computer (entering grades for the quiz my third hour seniors had just taken) and waiting for class to start. The student teacher is on his own for most of the day, but I pop in periodically to check out what's going on, and make sure nobody's killed anyone else. Plus, I love my kids and I just plain miss 'em, okay?

Fourth hour started, and the student teacher was not as organized as I would have liked to see. As a result, my normally well behaved freshmen were a little squirrely. I thought I would hang out for awhile to make sure things got turned around, and I'm really glad I did.

About 15 minutes after class started, a kid was reading out loud from Romeo and Juliet when the student teacher just stood up and walked out of the room. He muttered something about being back in a minute, and then took off.

I thought it was odd, but went to the front of the room, picked up a copy of the play, and asked a kid what page we were on. I took over, and things were going okay. He came back a few minutes later and tried to take over again. He was looking sweaty and flushed and pale...I figured he had just been sick, so I told him to have a seat, I would take handle it.

I'm glad I did that because he left twice more before class got over.

Poor guy. He was barely hanging on. I told him to just go home and get some rest. He was so grateful, I felt almost bad. He thinks I was doing him a huge favor, but selfishly I was thrilled for the chance to hang out with my freshmen again!

The rest of the afternoon flew by! I had a BLAST!! And it didn't hurt that my kids told me they missed me, and were glad to have the chance to hang out with me again. Plus, they were awesome! I haven't lost my classroom management skills in my period of sloth!

I texted the student teacher Monday night at about 7 to see how he was doing. He said he felt like death warmed over, apologized, and said he would send me sub plans for Tuesday as he didn't think he'd be well enough to be in school.

Poor guy...lucky me...

We leave smelling like boys...

I love my job. I know I say it a lot, but it's true. In fact, let me tell you just one more time*: I. Love. My. Job.

This year, my room seems to be the place to hang out during lunch. I never get a minute to myself. I love it, though. There is a core group of about 8 kids who routinely come in early to talk, and just hang out. There are a handful of others who show up randomly. It all started with one quiet young man who comes in and works on his math homework. (When I say quiet, I mean quiet. He rarely speaks in class, even to the other kids. I've loved that he comes in early for lunch, because it's the only time I can get him to talk!) Then another kid came, and now, I've got a regular lunch bunch.

While I love my lunch crew, I noticed something the other day: they're all boys. Every single last one of them. It surprised me a bit because high school boys are typically too cool to be seen in a classroom by choice. It's only acceptable when they have no other choice. Not my guys. They visit every day. They crack me up. The majority of them scarf down their lunch, run to the gyms to play some basketball, and then come to my room to replay / relive every play of the game. I guess I am a good audience?

While I love all my students, I find it odd that so many boys like to hang out in my room. I also find it kind of gross. Have you ever had the "privilege" of hanging out with a teenage boy after he's played some intense basketball? Let me just say this: boys stink.

Eww. Ick. Gross.

Okay, not all of them stink. Some of them are conscious of themselves and will make a quick stop in the locker room or bathroom to make sure they don't stink. There are a few, though, who do. Honestly, though, it could be because sometimes boys just smell bad. (If you are mother to a son, I think you'll know what I mean. It doesn't mean they are any less wonderful people, it just means they smell bad.)

Yesterday, two boys were digging in a backpack, looking for something. P found what they were looking for, and pulled it out of his bag. He triumphantly held up the can, and told D "you can use it first!"

I looked up when I heard a spraying sound and smelled a foul odor. They were spraying cologne. I coughed, and said, "Hey, boys. I have pretty severe allergies, and I know other people do, too. Can you please take that into the bathroom?"

D said, "Oh, sorry! Okay, we'll go to the bathroom."

On their way out the door, P stopped, turned around and, in all seriousness, said to me, "We leave smelling like boys, we come back smelling like men."

Yeah, right.

1. Most men I know don't use cologne from an aerosol can.

2. Contrary to what the commercials would lead you to believe, Axe cologne does NOT smell good, and will NOT cause girls to follow you around. Axe also will not make them want to date you. Sorry, but it's true.

3. The theory of "if a little is good, a lot is better" applies to cheesecake, money, and books. NOT cologne.

4. A good friend once told me, and I agree, that your scent should be discovered and not announced.

5. You smelled better before you doused yourself in cheap chemicals from a spray can.

So, while you left smelling like boys and planned to come back smelling like men, you really came back reeking to high heaven. But thanks for the laugh!



*today...I can't make promises about tomorrow!

From the mouths of babes, part 10

I was listening to two of my senior girls this morning. They were discussing a recent outing to church with one lovely lady's grandma. Grandma apparently hasn't been to church in more than 15 years, and her darling granddaughter offered to drive her and go with her. To a Catholic mass, no less.

K1: I told my grandma I would go into the confessional booth with her if she wanted me to. But she said, “No, I haven’t been to confessional in so long, I don’t want to go. I’ll do it next time.”

K2: Your grandma is so funny!

K1: I know, I told her the priest wasn’t going to make fun of her, or tell her “you suck” or anything. She should just go.

K2: Yeah, he’d probably only tell her to do five Bloody Marys or something.

K1: Yeah, probably.

I think she meant “Hail Marys” because if priests were prescribing Bloody Marys, I believe more people would convert to Catholicism and become sinners…

From the mouths of babes, part 9

I am the advisor for a mentoring program for freshmen. Basically, I have 72 juniors and seniors who I train once a month on a particular topic, and then they go visit freshmen in their English classes and talk about that topic with them. Every other year we rotate between English and Social Studies classes. This year we are in English, and I am teaching freshmen. I have the added bonus of getting to see firsthand my mentors interacting with my freshmen. It's pretty cool usually. Sometimes, though, it's pretty funny.

In November, our topic was "Gossip."

In my fourth hour class, B is a junior and he has a group of 5 frosh, all boys. He typically "adopts" a few more, though, who would rather be with a boy than a girl mentor.

B was sitting with his 7 boys and said, "Okay, guys, how would you define gossip?"

Without missing a beat, M responded "Girls."

Well, he got that right, didn't he?

Google Lit Trips

Oh. My. Goodness.

If you are a reader, or an English teacher, Google Lit Trips are the coolest things ever created. I'm not sure who has the kind of time necessary to create one of these things, but I'm glad they do! I'm teaching The Kite Runner to my seniors, and this is amazing! I can't wait to show it to kids!

If you have ever used Google Earth, you can imagine it. Basically, someone has mapped out all of the places in the novel and put it together in one trip! The real places are there, and even the made up places. The creator of the Lit Trip made an educated guess where the made up locations would be, based on their relative location to real places! At each location, in addition to seeing the Google Earth photographs, there is a box that pops up with questions about each chapter and links to web pages about some of the cultural things referenced in the chapter!

It's pretty amazing stuff. I don't know what we did before the internet.

There's even one for The Grapes of Wrath! You can follow the Joad family's trip from the Dust Bowl of Oklahoma to California. Or The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants. Or Make Way for Ducklings. Or Brothers in Hope: The story of the Lost Boys of the Sudan. There are more, too, for everyone from elementary to college!

Click here to check it out!