T - H - I - S !!

I really enjoyed the years that I worked as a substitute teacher.  I spent five wonderful years working with wonderful kids!  I found this memory on my Facebook page this morning.  I thought you'd enjoy reading it as much as I did!

Today, I was working in a kindergarten class where kids were working on the sight word "this".  The kids each had a bag of cut out letters -t, -h, -i, -s that they were to glue into appropriate places on a worksheet.  Ummm.... whey did we hand a bunch of kids those 4 letters?

You Go, Girl!

This is a Throwback Thursday post to 2010.  I originally posted it on my old blog - Mom's View.  I reposted it on here on December 10, 2015.

A couple of weeks ago, I was subbing in a special education classroom.  One of the little guys in the class has shown a troubling tendency to run.  

A runner in school is a bad thing.  These kids run away from the source of their frustration and anger.  Believe me when I say I sympathize with them.  I do understand the need to flee and get away from it all.  The problem is, kids who are prone to running will run out of the building.  They run blind- with no destination in mind, and no purpose other than to escape the school.  The danger of them getting lost or hit by a car is very real.

This little guy had run for the doors by the teacher parking lot before, but he had never left the building.  I can hear you thinking "Then why don't they just lock those doors shut?"  Well, the doors are locked from the outside- so that some random person can't just walk into the school.  However, according to the fire marshal, those doors must remain unlocked from the inside so that the kids can get out in the event of fire.

Anyway, I was in the hall with this stubborn little guy and two other teachers when he decided to make a break for it.  He ran to the far end of the building, hit the doors and kept on running.

I caught him in the parking lot.

Here's the best part.  The other two teachers I was standing with are both 20 years younger than I am.  I got there first, and I got there a good 15 seconds ahead of them.  Even better, they were wheezing and out of breath.  I was just standing there, hugging little one and telling him the story of the Three Little Bears. 

Hmmn.... 40 something year old, overweight, out of shape woman totally beats the 20 something teachers doing the 100 yard dash.

When I got back into the school, one of the volunteers who'd been sitting in the hall reading with a child when everything happened looked at me and smiled.  "You go, girlfriend!  You totally rock!  Beating those young things out the door!  Who-HOOO!" 

Now THAT's a priceless feeling!

One-Upsmanship, Kindergarten Style

A conversation overheard while substitute teaching in kindergarten!

Child #1: My mom is going to have a baby next month!

Child #2: Oh yeah? Well, my Dad is pregnant.  He's going to have twins!

Child #1: I say your Dad this morning, and those babies look like they're going to pop out any day now!

Tales From the Classroom

 Enjoy this blast from the past that I originally posted on May 7, 2015. 

I was a substitute teacher.  My Four Year Mission? To teach in strange new classrooms, in different schools throughout the county.  These are the tales of a substitute teacher.

Assignments of two or more days are unusual for substitutes.  Typically, these assignments go to people well known by the teacher or staff of the school.  Only rarely are they put out on the  SubFinder system for anyone to grab.

I felt particularly blessed this particular spring day.  I had found a 2 day job at a school in the Northern part of the county, just before the beginning of Spring Break.  Even better, the job was for a kindergarten aide!  More than likely, the regular aide would be the teacher, and I would be relieved of the responsibilities of classroom management.

I arrived on the first day to find both the teacher and aide waiting for me in the classroom, in order to explain our very unique situation.

The school was being renovated, one pod at a time.  As each new pod opened, the grade would move into the new classrooms, and then renovations would begin on the old classrooms.  At this point in time, the new kindergarten pod and expansion was completed.  The aide was going to be teaching, I would be helping, and the teacher would be moving things down to her new classroom just as soon as the County Building Inspector gave the go ahead.

We started our morning with a classroom full of children and equipment, and the teacher sitting at her desk, working on the kids' records.

Late that afternoon, the teacher got approval to move into her classroom, and things began to get strange.

The teacher had a large cart.  She would load the cart up with stuff, and then take off down the hall.
When we left school on Thursday afternoon, she had emptied her closets, and had the custodian help her move the tadpoles in their tank down to her new classroom.

Friday was surreal.  We started with a classroom full of students and a fully decorated classroom.
As the day wore on, the items in the classroom slowly started to disappear.  Entire bulletin boards, learning centers, play areas, books, just *pouf* gone.  The kids were mostly game, as they thought this was a grand adventure.

When we came back from lunch, all of the tables and chairs were gone.  It was me, the aide, 18 children, a rocking chair with some books, and a CD player.

We improvised for a while.  Took the kids out for an extra recess.  Went to specials.  Went over to another kindergarten classroom to watch a movie, and then... we ended up back in our classroom.  Everything was gone at this point.  We sat in a circle on the floor in an empty classroom and the aide said "I know!  Let's play Duck, Duck, Goose!"

I know, you're sitting there thinking "an empty classroom, a nice, simple little group game.  Great idea!  What a great way to wait for the buses to be called!"

I sat in the circle on the floor as first one little guy, and then another took turns going around the circle "ducking" the other kids.  I kept a close eye on the clock.  We had 10 minutes left until dismissal began when disaster struck.

The little man who goosed his friend took off at a pretty quick clip around the circle with his friend in hot pursuit. Little man tangled his feet up in each other and crashed to the floor.  As we watched in horror, little man then rolled across the empty floor and smacked *slam* into the closet door.  When he sat up, we noticed in horror that the pattern of the lattice work from the bottom of the door was imprinted upon his head.

I grabbed little man and ran him down to the nurse, before he even had a chance to realize what was going on.

The nurse pulled out an ice pack and called his parents while I ran back for his backpack, because, guess what?  Bus Dismissal was getting ready to begin.

As I turned the corner into the nurses' office, instead of the expected tears, I saw the great big grin on Little Man's face.

"What are you smiling about?" I asked.

"That was awesome!  Did you SEE that barrel roll?  And how hard did I hit that door?  Is the metal still in?  I was trying to knock it out!  Did you see my head?  Look at these cool lines!  And now?  I AM GOING TO BE THE FIRST PERSON TO GET ON MY BUS!!!"

*sigh*

Pigeon

One of my favorite shirts has Mo Willems's Pigeon on the front.  You know, Pigeon of "Don't Let Pigeon Drive the Bus" fame.

On my shirt, pigeon is reading a book entitled "How to Drive a Bus".  Over top is the caption "Driven to Read."  I love this shirt.  It's comfortable.  It's big enough on me that I can wear it with leggings and nobody is looking at my ass.  It's also full of warm memories.  I picked up this shirt at an ALA convention several years back, and it brings back warm memories of author encounters and library friends everywhere I turn!

Sadly, I am no longer able to wear this shirt to work.  I wore it to substitute teach not long after I bought it. 

Now you know, there are kids you work with when you teach that stick with you forever.  Something about them haunts you, and you find yourself thinking about them a lot.  For whatever reason, they are on your mind.  At this particular school, there was a very loving, very large, very neglectful family.  The kids were delightful, loving, and supportive of each other.  They were respectful of teachers and staff.  But they were woefully neglected.  Hygiene was not a priority for the family.  The kids would come to school in need of clean clothes and showers.  The school provided clothes, but not the showers.  I adored those kids.  They were very smart and very funny, but I knew that life was not easy for them and that the ends very rarely met each other.

This particular day found me back in their school for the first time in over a week.  I'd been thinking about the kids a lot.  We'd been on an extended break, and I was worried that the kids had not seen enough food during that time.

As the doors opened that morning, I was assigned to bus duty, and I stood in the hallway, greeting children and reminding them to slow down.  When I saw the youngest girl of the family, her face lit up and she ran into me, almost knocking me down as she gave me the best bear hug a substitute teacher could ever ask for.  Her older siblings, trailing behind her, saw the hug happening, and they all came and joined in the giant bear hug before they went on about their business.

As they walked off, the teacher working the hall with me looked down at my favorite pigeon shirt with a look of horror on her face.  "Ummm.... did you bring another shirt with you?" 

I hurriedly looked down and saw not only dirty arm and hand prints on my shirt, but this weird set of oily halos.  I looked up at the other teacher in dismay, and said "what"?

"Oh, it's those kids.  They're always so dirty.  Those are their hair marks.  Mom hasn't washed their hair in quite some time.  I'm surprised you'd let them hug you.  Most of us won't let them hug us because they ruin our clothes."

I mulled that thought over as arrival continued.  Think about that for a while yourself.  It's a sobering thought when you really put some thought behind it.

I saw the kids many more times over the years that I substituted.  If they asked for a hug, I would gladly give them one and be damned to my clothes.   Every once in a while, I see the family about town, at the grocery store or the park.  As the kids have gotten older, they've gotten better about meeting their own hygiene needs.  They are brilliant kids, and they continue to thrive.  As they've gotten older, they don't ask for hugs, but they do stop and talk with me for a while!

The hair stains never have come out of my favorite pigeon shirt.  I have tried everything to get them out, but they're just not going away.  As a result, I only wear the shirt around the house. 

When I wear the shirt, I look down and remember the love, joy, and enthusiasm of children.  In particular, I remember a family of brilliant if somewhat neglected children.  I see their enthusiasm, and their need for love and attention.  And it reminds me that ALL children need to feel love and acceptance from the world around them.  It's easy to judge those kids by how they looked, but if you looked past the surface appearance, you were privileged to meet genius kids who have the potential to change the world.  

The bigger question here is - how will they change the world?  For good or for bad?  How will the kindness and judgement of strangers impact their adult selves? 

Food for thought.

A is for Manzana

One day while subbing for a Kindergarten Aide, we were in the middle of reading groups.  The teacher had a small group, I had a small group, there was a group on the floor listening to stories on tape, and one group with a mother who was going over letters and objects, and then saying the beginning sound.  She was pulling items out of a bag, saying the name of the item, and then they would all say the name of the object together. 

The mother who was working with that group was a native speaker of Spanish, and her lilting voice had me enchanted as I half listened to her group going through their bag of goodies:

C is for Car /c/
H is for Hat /h/
D is for Dog /d/


A is for Manzana ..... at this point, you heard the teacher yelling across the classroom: "WAIT!  Stop!"

The parent sat still for a minute and then started laughing as she realized her mistake, and then started speaking to the kids:  "Manzana is how you say Apple in Spanish."  Manzana - begins with an "M" /m/,  Apple begins with an "A", /a/.

I saw that parent in the grocery store yesterday.  Guess what she was buying?

Several Comedies of Error

This post originally appeared in my now defunct "Mom's View" blog. It originally appeared on May 24, 2012.  Oh, the woes of a substitute teacher!  Those were the days!

  
I've been subbing a lot the past few weeks.  Jobs have been plentiful... and the motivation that says "You won't get a paycheck for June, July, or August" has kept me moving pretty quickly on taking up the jobs.  Today is a rare day off, so I thought I would share my comedy of errors over the last few weeks.

I normally only substitute in K-3rd grade, because that is my area of certification, and it is the age group I am best at teaching.  Unfortunately, several of the jobs I took over the past couple of weeks were "supplementary", which is the grab bag of the substitute world.  I didn't know what I was getting into until I walked in the door of the building that morning.  Surprise!!

I spent one particularly memorable afternoon in 5th grade.  The teacher had left us with a DVD to watch, and had trained the kids how to turn it on and get it to go.  Her final words to me before she left "You don't touch anything.  Only she does." (pointing to a child in the class)  Okie Dokie!  We finished up the lessons she had left, and then we attempted to start the movie.  Nothing happened.  The girl tried again, and nothing happened.  The kids became very, very helpful.  (overly helpful) Yet still, nothing happened.  I called down to the main office, and they sent an Assistant Principal down to "show us" how to fix it.  He ended up calling the media specialist, who then ended up calling the technology guy from the county who was in the building working on the network. So, while all of the great minds were working on getting the DVD to run, what were the kids doing?  We started playing "Simon Says".  Twenty minutes later, the crew of four adults looked at me and said "It's not working."  (Insert evil teacher/mom glare here.)  I asked, "so what do I do?"  "Oh, said the AP, you follow the plans she left you."  I handed him the plans that said in clear letters: "Watch movie.  The kids know how to turn it on.  Dismissal begins at 3:15".  Thank heavens, the teacher next door poked her head around the corner at that moment and said "We're just getting ready to start the movie.  Why don't you bring them in here?" 

I spent one day with an assistant teacher who couldn't remember my last name.  She kept calling me Mrs. Jones, no matter how many times I corrected her.  Finally, I gave up and let her call me Mrs. Jones for the rest of the day.  I found out yesterday that she calls every sub in her room Mrs. Jones. 

I was reading a book aloud to a group of students, sitting in the rocking chair when *CRASH* the entire rocking chair broke apart underneath me!  There I was, one shocked woman, sitting amidst the remains of a rocking chair!  (Once I finally caught my breath and figured out how I ended up on the floor, we called the story finished and went outside for a quick extra recess.)

On my way out of the building yesterday, I was accosted by a teacher that I subbed for last week.
"Did you hear the news?"  she asked.  "No, what?"  I replied.
"Seven kids in my class have lice.  They found them the day after you subbed for me.  You need to get checked before you leave today."

What a wonderful, wonderful couple of weeks it's been!

It's a Sub Job. What Can Go Wrong?

I originally published this in 2013.  As I recall, this particular incident happened towards the end of the school year, but I didn't get around to writing it down until the summer of 2013.  Enjoy the look back!

When I sub, I normally only sub in grades K-3.  I'm certified to teach K-3, and when I was teaching, I taught K-3.  It's the group that I am most comfortable with, and am the best at teaching.  However, as the year comes to a close, I stop being so picky and take just about any job I can find.  I think it's that motivation that says "You won't be getting a paycheck in June, July, and August" that makes me be less picky.

One day in late May, I took a job entitled "Supplementary".  These jobs are the grab bag of the substitute world.  You don't know what you're getting into until you walk in the door of the building that morning.  Surprise!!

This particular day, I was assigned to 2nd grade in the morning and 5th grade in the afternoon.  The 2nd grade class was a hoot, and I spent a wonderful time with a great class of kids, and had an awesome set of lesson plans to follow.  I enjoyed myself no end.

The afternoon with 5th grade was particularly memorable.  The teacher had left us with a DVD to watch, and had trained one child how to turn it on and get it to go.  The movie was in her laptop, and it was to be projected from her laptop onto the white board in front of the room.  Her final words to me before she left were "YOU don't touch anything.  Only SHE does."  (Pointing to a child in the class.)  Okie Dokie!

We finished up the lesson she had left, and then SHE attempted to start the movie. Nothing happened.  The girl tried, again, and nothing happened.  The kids became very, very helpful.  (Overly helpful, even.)  Yet still, nothing happened.  I called down to the main office, and they sent an Assistant Principal down to "show us" how to make it work.  He ended up calling the media specialist, who then ended up calling the technology guy from the county who was in the building working on the network. 

So, while all of the great minds were working on getting the DVD to run, what were the kids doing?  We started playing "Simon Says".  Twenty minutes later, the crew of four adults looked at me and said "It's not working."  (Insert evil teacher/mom glare here.)  I asked, "So, what do I do?" 

"Oh," said the Assistant Principal, "You follow the plans she left you."  I handed them the plans that said: "Watch the movie.  The kids know how to turn it on.  YOU don't touch the laptop.  Only the trained student may start the DVD.   Dismissal begins at 3:15."  He gave me a blank stare, and you could see the same panic I was feeling beginning to build behind his eyes.

Thankfully, at that minute, the teacher next door stuck her head around the corner and said "Hey, do you want to join us?  I'm just about to start the movie.  The kids are welcome to come over and sit on the floor!"

At least I didn't touch the laptop!!

Tales From the Classroom

More and more, I find myself missing my classroom days.  I miss working with the little guys, and I miss the constant change and ebb and flow of days and schedules.  I've been rethinking a couple of decisions and choices that I've made over the last two years. 

Anyway, this is a repost of an earlier article about the kids.  I'd subbed several days in a row, and there were three very particularly memorable stories I wanted to share.

1) "That's Wrong!"

I was subbing for a Special Ed. assistant, and was sitting through a second grade math lesson with one of my favorite guys.  The teacher was going through a subtraction lesson with the kids.

(The key part to remember to this story is... 2nd grade.  Remember, at that time, they still made us move the big number to the front and then subtract the smaller number.)

The teacher had the problem 3-5=___  written on the board. 

"Now, how do we solve this?"  She asked.

My little friend promptly raised his hand and said "It's negative 2!"

"No, it's not," the teacher replied, "Can someone else help me?"

"No!!!"  He shouted.  "It's negative two!!"

"No, it's not," she replied, looking at me for help.

"Actually, it is," I answered, and turning to my little friend I said "In 2nd grade, most of the kids haven't learned negative numbers yet.  She's trying to get you to set the problem up the 2nd grade way, and put the big number first."

"Well that's just stupid."  He replied.  "The answer is negative two, and she's just making the problem harder for everyone to solve by making them switch it around.  If they're going to switch the numbers, they should switch the signs."

The teacher and I both sat stunned, staring at him for a moment.  The teacher recovered first and said "You guys are right.  BUT, we since we're in 2nd grade, we will do this the 2nd grade way."

"It's still stupid" said my little friend. 

2) The Voice of an Angel

Subbing again in special education, in a different classroom, I was with a friend in kindergarten.  He was working on a cut and paste number identification sheet.

While he was cutting, he broke out into a SPOT ON rendition of "Oh Danny Boy".

He knew all of the words, hit every single note, and sang in the most beautiful child soprano anyone has ever heard.  It brought tears to my eyes, and the classroom to a halt.

When he finished, the teacher whispered to me "I never make him stop singing.  He has the voice of an angel, and I feel like we are blessed every time we hear it."

 

3) Those Letters Spell WHAT??

I was subbing in a kindergarten class where kids were working on the sight word "this".  The kids each had a bag of cut out letters:  t, h, i, s, that they were to glue into appropriate places on a worksheet.

The first group comes up and glues the letters into place, with no comment whatsoever.

The second group comes up, and one little guy starts playing with the letters, rearranging them, moving them around, and finally comes up with an entirely new word and I hear him say "Oh, wow!  Look at what I can spell!"  (Take one guess what that word was...)


You know, there are some bad days when I'm subbing.  There are days when everything goes wrong.  But then, things like this happen that make me laugh, and I realize just how fortunate I am to be able to work in a profession where I get to see the world through the eyes of children.

You Go, Girlfriend!

I'm down and out with a very sore throat and headache, so no writing today.  Instead,  enjoy this post from 5 years ago when I was subbing. Originally posted on my now defunct "Mom's View Blog".

A couple of weeks ago, I was subbing in a special education classroom.  One of the little guys in the class has shown a troubling tendency to run.  

A runner in school is a bad thing.  These kids run away from the source of their frustration and anger.  Believe me when I say I sympathize with them.  I do understand the need to flee and get away from it all.  The problem is, kids who are prone to running will run out of the building.  They run blind- with no destination in mind, and no purpose other than to escape the school.  The danger of them getting lost or hit by a car is very real.

This little guy had run for the doors by the teacher parking lot before, but he had never left the building.  I can hear you thinking "Then why don't they just lock those doors shut?"  Well, the doors are locked from the outside- so that some random person can't just walk into the school.  However, according to the fire marshal, those doors must remain unlocked from the inside so that the kids can get out in the event of fire.

Anyway, I was in the hall with this stubborn little guy and two other teachers when he decided to make a break for it.  He ran to the far end of the building, hit the doors and kept on running.

I caught him in the parking lot.

Here's the best part.  The other two teachers I was standing with are both 20 years younger than I am.  I got there first, and I got there a good 15 seconds ahead of them.  Even better, they were wheezing and out of breath.  I was just standing there, hugging little one and telling him the story of the Three Little Bears. 

Hmmn.... 40 something year old, overweight, out of shape woman totally beats the 20 something teachers doing the 100 yard dash.

When I got back into the school, one of the volunteers who'd been sitting in the hall reading with a child when everything happened looked at me and smiled.  "You go, girlfriend!  You totally rock!  Beating those young things out the door!  Who-HOOO!" 

Now THAT's a priceless feeling!

Subbing in Kindergarten

I originally published this post in my now defunct blog, "A Mom's View".  Every once in a while, I stumble across something from the years I spent subbing, and it makes me laugh out loud.  This post was one of those memories.  Enjoy!  I must say, I enjoy my job now, but I don't get as many belly laughs as I did when I was subbing!

I've spent the past few days subbing in kindergarten, and have a few stories that I'd like to share:

Recess:
It was 90* here on Monday.  We brought the kids back from PE, and the sweat was dripping off of one little guy.  We had the kids pack up their backpacks to go home and then lined them up to go out for a quick 10 minute recess before it was time to go home.  The little guy who was dripping sweat proceeded to put his hooded sweat shirt on.  "Honey, you don't need your coat outside, it's 90* today.  It's hot."

"Yes I do!  I'm all sweaty and I don't want to catch a chill!"


Math:
We were working on glyphs in Math.  If you've been out of school for a while, you might not remember glyphs.  It's a picture that you color in with coded colors, and it reads like a map.  Our glyph was a duck in a raincoat.  The children were to put three circle buttons on if they were 5 years old, or 3 triangle buttons if they were 6 years old.  They were to color the coat yellow if they like to watch tv on rainy days, or orange if they like to jump in puddles on rainy days.  The hat was supposed to be blue if they were a boy, and red if they were a girl, and the boots were supposed to be colored black if they had a pet at home, or green if they didn't have any pets at all.

I had gotten through the directions on the hat when I looked over at G., and she was coloring the hat yellow. 

"You're supposed to color the hat red since you're a girl." I said.

"No.  I won't."  She replied.

"But those are the directions,"  I stupidly said.  "Color the hat red if you're a girl.  You are a girl, so the hat is supposed to be red."

"No.  You do not wear red hats with yellow rain coats.  You wear yellow hats with yellow rain coats.  And yellow boots.  Would you wear a red hat with a yellow coat to school?  I don't think so...."


Reading:
We were attempting to introduce the kids to ABC order today.  We had sentence strips, and I was to give them four adjacent letters of the alphabet.  (E, F, H, G) and have them place the letters in order.  I covered up all the letters on the sentence strip except those 4 letters, and asked P.:

"Which letter comes first?"

"A"

"No, of these four letters, which one comes first?"

"A always comes first.  Then B, Then C, then D.  E comes fifth."

Love those kids!!

Tales from the Classroom

I was a substitute teacher.  My Four Year Mission? To teach in strange new classrooms, in different schools throughout the county.  These are the tales of a substitute teacher.

Assignments of two or more days are unusual for substitutes.  Typically, these assignments go to people well known by the teacher or staff of the school.  Only rarely are they put out on the  SubFinder system for anyone to grab.

I felt particularly blessed this particular spring day.  I had found a 2 day job at a school in the Northern part of the county, just before the beginning of Spring Break.  Even better, the job was for a kindergarten aide!  More than likely, the regular aide would be the teacher, and I would be relieved of the responsibilities of classroom management.

I arrived on the first day to find both the teacher and aide waiting for me in the classroom, in order to explain our very unique situation.

The school was being renovated, one pod at a time.  As each new pod opened, the grade would move into the new classrooms, and then renovations would begin on the old classrooms.  At this point in time, the new kindergarten pod and expansion was completed.  The aide was going to be teaching, I would be helping, and the teacher would be moving things down to her new classroom just as soon as the County Building Inspector gave the go ahead.

We started our morning with a classroom full of children and equipment, and the teacher sitting at her desk, working on the kids' records.

Late that afternoon, the teacher got approval to move into her classroom, and things began to get strange.

The teacher had a large cart.  She would load the cart up with stuff, and then take off down the hall.
When we left school on Thursday afternoon, she had emptied her closets, and had the custodian help her move the tadpoles in their tank down to her new classroom.

Friday was surreal.  We started with a classroom full of students and a fully decorated classroom.
As the day wore on, the items in the classroom slowly started to disappear.  Entire bulletin boards, learning centers, play areas, books, just *pouf* gone.  The kids were mostly game, as they thought this was a grand adventure.

When we came back from lunch, all of the tables and chairs were gone.  It was me, the aide, 18 children, a rocking chair with some books, and a CD player.

We improvised for a while.  Took the kids out for an extra recess.  Went to specials.  Went over to another kindergarten classroom to watch a movie, and then... we ended up back in our classroom.  Everything was gone at this point.  We sat in a circle on the floor in an empty classroom and the aide said "I know!  Let's play Duck, Duck, Goose!"

I know, you're sitting there thinking "an empty classroom, a nice, simple little group game.  Great idea!  What a great way to wait for the buses to be called!"

I sat in the circle on the floor as first one little guy, and then another took turns going around the circle "ducking" the other kids.  I kept a close eye on the clock.  We had 10 minutes left until dismissal began when disaster struck. 

The little man who goosed his friend took off at a pretty quick clip around the circle with his friend in hot pursuit. Little man tangled his feet up in each other and crashed to the floor.  As we watched in horror, little man then rolled across the empty floor and smacked *slam* into the closet door.  When he sat up, we noticed in horror that the pattern of the lattice work from the bottom of the door was imprinted upon his head.

I grabbed little man and ran him down to the nurse, before he even had a chance to realize what was going on.

The nurse pulled out an ice pack and called his parents while I ran back for his backpack, because, guess what?  Bus Dismissal was getting ready to begin.

As I turned the corner into the nurses' office, instead of the expected tears, I saw the great big grin on Little Man's face.

"What are you smiling about?" I asked?

"That was awesome!  Did you SEE that barrel roll?  And how hard did I hit that door?  Is the metal still in?  I was trying to knock it out!  Did you see my head?  Look at these cool lines!  And now?  I AM GOING TO BE THE FIRST PERSON TO GET ON MY BUS!!!"

*sigh*

That Does It..

I found this in a journal I kept when I was subbing:

I was subbing in a class of kindergarteners yesterday.

We'd had a very interesting morning.  And I don't mean interesting in a good way. 

As we got ready for centers in the afternoon, the kids were all sitting angelically with their hands raised, ready to be chosen first to go to centers. 

I looked at them and said, "You guys know how this goes.  The first people I'm going to choose first are those people who've been trying hard all day, doing their best job, and showing their pride."

I hear one little voice say "That's it, I'm screwed."

Tales from the Classroom

At the end of a very long day, I went to grab my favorite little friend T. from his classroom.  I was subbing in Special Ed, and T. has been involved in Sp.Ed. for help with writing for years.   He's a wonderful, smart, amazing kid, but that child hates to write.  (As I'm telling this story, keep in mind that T. talks in a monotone.  It makes the story all the better...)

I walked him out of the classroom and into the hallway.

"My body is just too exhausted to go on.  I can't write.  My hands are just exhausted.  LOOK."  He showed me his hand, and flopped it down to his side.  "I can't even make it stay up in the air."

"Don't worry about it."  I told him.  "I'll write for you.  You tell me what to write, and I'll write it down.  You don't have to do anything."

We got down to the resource room, and he slumped down into a chair at the table.  His entire body posture just exuded exhaustion.  His class had been doing research on insects, and they were synthesizing their research into books.  Each page of the book was dedicated to a different aspect of the insect.  The rest of the class had finished their books, but he was still stuck on the first page.  He had researched the mosquito.

The first page was about Habitat.

"I just can't write.  I can't make my body cooperate with me."

"I'm not asking you to write," I reassured him.  "Just tell me what to write, and I'll write it."

And so, we began.  He dictated the sentences while looking back at his notes, and I wrote down what he said.  He proofread my work when we finished the page, approved my spelling and punctuation, and we moved on to the next page, Body Parts.

So, he begins telling me what to write.  He begins describing the proboscis, and he tells me the name of the chemical that the mosquito secretes through it's proboscis.  It's this chemical that causes the bump on your skin.  I write down the name of the chemical, and he looks over at what I've written.

"You're not spelling that right, here give me the pencil."  He carefully erases what I've written, and then writes down the correct spelling.  We continue on, and I write what he says until he pauses and looks at my paper. 

"You're still not doing that right."  He then erases what I've written, and writes his own words.  He hands me back the paper and gives me that hard, steady look over the top of his glasses.

"I don't know," he says.  "You're not a good dictator.  You're messing up my spelling and punctuation.  I can do it better if I do it myself.  You've done you're best job.  You should be very proud of yourself, but I will take it from here.  You need to rest your brain for a while."

Funny kid!  I probably did need to rest my brain for a while!  He managed to finish the second page before our time was up and take him back to his class.

You know, I do wonder how bad of a dictator I was if someone who hates to write as much as he does decided that it was easier to write everything himself than to trust me to write it for him!

Wardrobe Malfunction

FYI- I wrote this post yesterday afternoon, during my planning time.

I wish I could say I had made this up.

 

 

Everyone has a favorite pair of pants.

 

I have a pair of khaki dress pants that I adore.  They fit me well, and I feel as if I look good in them.  They have held up well for years, and they go with just about everything.

 

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end.

 

I was sitting in a second grade class yesterday.  When I went to squat down next to a child's desk I heard a most unfortunate ripping sound.  The more I moved, the more I heard "rip", "rip", "rrrriiiipppp".

 

Fortunately, I was wearing a long sleeve shirt jacket style over another shirt.  I quickly took my shirt off and tied it around my waist.

 

When lunch time rolled around, I went to the bathroom to survey the damage.

 

My pants were torn - parallel to the seam, halfway up the back of my pants.

 

I had only one option.  I went to the media center, grabbed the stapler, went back to the bathroom and stapled my pants shut.

 

I had to be careful moving around and sitting, for if I wasn't, I got poked by the little pieces of metal running up the inside of my pants.

 

With half an hour left in the school day, my fast fix began to unravel.

 

One by one, I could feel the staples pulling loose and then dropping down my pants leg.

 

Every so often, I'd hear a tiny little "ping" as another staple worked it's way out and hit the ground by my feet.

 

With just minutes left in the school day, I wrapped my shirt around my waist.  I refused to sit, and stood in one corner, with my butt facing the wall as the kids were dismissed.

 

Like a dog with it's tail between it's legs, I slunk out of school and out to my car through a side door.

 

When I got home, I surveyed the damage.

 

A large tear extended from the waistband to the seam on the bottom.

 

Of the 30 staples I had used to "sew" my pants closed, 5 remained, unevenly interspersed along the length of the tear.

 

Where the staples had given way, the fabric was mangled and torn beyond repair.

 

I am grateful beyond words that the temporary fix lasted an entire 4 hours before giving way.

 

You'd think I would have learned my lesson after yesterday.

 

Today, I'm wearing my favorite jeans.  I noticed a slight tear in them this morning in a spot that I thought was virtually invisible.  I even ironed a patch on the inside of my jeans over the tear.

 

I noticed a ripping sound a while ago and managed to flag down an aide in the hallway to cover the class so that I could run to the bathroom.

 

Imagine that.  There's a rip forming - along the edge of the patch.  The edge of the patch that borders the seam.  Guess where?  *sigh*

 

 

Tales from the Classroom

The nicest thing about the better weather is that I've been able to get back into the classroom and see some of my favorite kids.  As always, the kids are wonderful, and I have some wonderful tales to tell...


I was working with a reading group of 5 kids, and we were discussing what kinds of books they like to read.  I heard "Scooby Doo", "Lego", "Junie B. Jones", and then, this little guy chimes in with "I like the ones that have pages in them.  It's better if they have words on the pages, too."

A 7 year old and I were discussing the new terminology used in subtraction.  You might remember it as "borrowing" or "regrouping".  Right now, the kids are decomposing numbers.  This young man had been working with his Dad the night before, and he was attempting to regroup the numbers, and he tells me "Now, back in the day, they used to..."  I laughed so hard, I never heard the end of his sentence.

And this little gem, from another second grade friend.  I'd been working with him in Special Ed. I dropped him off in his room and helped him get settled.  As I stood up to leave, he looked at me and said "Bye, bye, sweetie, you have a great afternoon!"

There are days when working with the kids is wonderful!

What a Day

I only sub in a few schools.  Over the last 5 years, I have developed wonderful relationships with the staff and students in these schools.  I love all of the kids that I work with, but I love the friends in Special Education the most.  Those little people just touch my heart and make me strive to be a better person.

I have one little friend in particular that challenges me.  I've known this little guy for 4 years now.  Not once in 4 years has he ever spoken to me.  Not once has he ever looked me in the eyes.  For 4 years, he has ignored me, pulled his hood over his head, and sat in a stony silence until our time is over. 

I have done everything I can think of to break through his shell and establish a relationship with him.  I've brought in pictures of my kids and my cats.  I've made stupid jokes.  I've brought in stuffed animals, my favorite books, and even some of those little nano-bugs.  All in the hope that he might interact with me in some way. 

I've never given up on him- because you can tell he's a smart young man.  Very smart.  And I really want to know what's going on in that head of his.

Last week.  I had the most frustrating day, ever. 

I was subbing in Special Ed, and during the morning, I pushed in to 3 different classes.

I arrive in the first class and sit down at the table with my first little group.  Five minutes into the group, one of the kids suddenly looks really pale, we smell a horrible smell, and the kid starts to cry and everyone goes "eewww".  Diarrhea.  All over everything.

I took that child down to the nurse.  The teacher took the class out for a walk down the halls, and the custodian worked his magic.

I doused myself in as much Purell as I possibly could, and headed off to my next group.

Different class, same routine.  I sit down to work with one of the groups.  One of the children turns really pale, turns the head, and "eeewwwww".  The poor child threw up all over the floor.  I ran the child down to the nurse, and the teacher pulled the rest of the class out for a walk down the halls while the custodian worked his magic.

I doused myself again in Purell. 

Different class, different grade, same routine. I sat down to work with one of the groups.  One of the children turns really pale, turns the head and "eewww...."

The custodian crossed my path as I was walking down the hall towards the nurses office with the third child when he remarked "Just what is it about you today?"

The nurse looked me over as I walked into her office and said "What is it with you today?"

I jokingly asked if it would do any good to bother washing up with Purell.  She handed me her heavy duty soap that she uses to wash her hands, and I washed my hands, arms, and face. 

My day didn't get a lot better from there, no more sick children, but it was a trying day.  The kids were having a rough day all the way around.

And then, it was 3:00.

I went to go pull my little person.  MY little person.  The one I mentioned earlier, who I've known for 4 years now and has never spoken to me.

He looked me straight in the eye when I walked in, told me "Hello" and called my by my name.  I had no idea he even knew my name.

He talked to me.  He read to me.  He looked me in the eye and he smiled at me.  He answered me in complete sentences.  That hood never once went up over his head.

When our time was up, I walked him back to class, and he told me all about the playoff games this weekend, and why he was cheering for the Broncos.

I dropped him off in his class, closed the door, and burst into tears.

After 4 years, this child finally trusts me enough to let me into his world and talk to him. 

I am so humbled.

And that, my friends, made last week an EXCELLENT week.

Tales from the Classroom

I've been subbing a lot over the past two weeks.  It's been a hoot.  The kids are wound up over Thanksgiving and Christmas, and they are boisterous and full of life.

These are some of my highlights from the past few weeks:

Dry Erase Boards:

I do a lot of subbing in Special Education.  I love the children... they are all so amazing.  This particular day, I was subbing in a regular ed. kindergarten class.  I was working with a group of kids at the reading table, and we had just finished a book.  I asked the little girl sitting next to me "Could you please get the dry erase boards for me?"  She looked at me, and with the look that only a 5 year old can give you said, "Seriously?"   I looked into her brown eyes as she started to grin and pointed at the floor on my left side.  Lo and Behold, there were the dry erase boards.

I sighed, and turned to my other side and asked the little boy if he knew where the dry erase markers were.  (When I sub in Special Ed, I pull this particular friend a lot.  He and I know each other fairly well.)  He started laughing as he pointed to the ground on my right side to the basket of dry erase markers and erasers.  I made a silly face at the kids, and he said "That's okay... it's nice seeing you have trouble with something, too!"  At that point, all of us started laughing.

It's not only the Kids:

I was at choir practice last night.  There is a very prim and proper older woman (age 75) who stands in front of me.  Just as our conductor raised his baton, she suddenly turned around and started fanning the air behind her.

"Whoops...Sorry about that... Really spicy lunch today..."

On Marriage:

During bus duty, one of my friends in first grade told me:  "I know who I'm going to marry when I grow up.  She's the most beautiful girl in the world." 

"I'm so happy for you!"  I told him.  "But remember, if you want to get married, first you have to finish high school, graduate from college, and get a job.  THEN you can get married."

"So, the proper order is College, Job, Marriage?"

"Yes."

"But..." at this point his little eyes got really big..."I want to become a doctor.  I have to go to 8 years of doctor school after I finish college before I can get a job.  That's a REALLY LONG time to wait!!!"

What do you say?

During recess, in first grade, (remember, age 6)  one of the little guys comes running over to me and says...

JJ says he doesn't want to die with his underwear on!

It's a Resource!

I spent a fun day subbing at one of my favorite schools this week.  I was subbing as a floater, so I got to roam in and out of classrooms all day long, supporting kids during the subjects where they struggle the most.

In the afternoon Math time, I was sent down to second grade, where I sat with my friend, T.  I've known T since kindergarten, and I adore this child.  He is smart, he is funny, he is witty.  Oh yeah, and he hates to write.

We were working through a worksheet he had, where he had to write out the number sentence and then solve the problem.  He knew the answers, and he would write the answers, but getting him to write the number sentence was a challenge. 

After much cajoling, we finally finished that paper, and then we looked at another paper.

I knew we were in trouble the moment I saw it.  It was a coloring page.  A math coloring page.  I'm sure you remember these.  The "picture" is divided into parts, and each part has an equation.  You have to solve the equation, and then match the answer to a color key located somewhere on the paper, and then color that part of the picture accordingly.

T hates, absolutely hates to color.  He stormed right through the page, and wrote down all of the answers right away.  But then, he got his stubborn on.  He had to color the sections of the picture.  His teacher was adamant about the pictures being colored in, and he was just as adamant that he was not going to do it.

I cajoled.

I begged. 

I promised a break down in the media center, where he could pick any book that he wanted.

I attempted to bribe him with a pencil.  Not just any pencil, a Halloween pencil.

Finally, a wicked grin spread across his face.

He pulled out his math folder.  ON the right side, the pocket was labeled "Work to be Finished".  The left pocket was labeled "Resources".  The resource side was filled with hundreds charts, a number line, and other nifty little Math resource papers.  He looked at me and declared "This is a resource.   Since this is a resource, I don't have to color it in.  I can come back and use it to help me solve other problems later on!"

He shoved the paper into the left pocket, and then looked triumphantly at me as his math group was called back to the table to work with his teacher.  Unfortunately, when he went back to his group, it was time for me to move on to another classroom.

Well played, T, well played.

Lessons from the Kindergarten

I've spent some days subbing in kindergarten recently, and I'd like to share some stories:

It was hot here last Monday.  We brought the kids back from PE, and the sweat was dripping off of one little guy.  We had the kids pack up their backpacks to go home and then lined them up to go out for a quick 10 minute recess before it was time to go home.  The little guy who was dripping sweat proceeded to put his hooded sweat shirt on.  "Honey, you don't need your coat outside, it's 80* today.  It's hot."
"Yes I do!  I'm all sweaty and I don't want to catch a chill!"


We were working on glyphs in Math.  If you've been out of school for a while, you might not remember glyphs.  It's a picture that you color in with coded colors, and it reads like a map.  Our glyph was a duck in a raincoat.  The children were to put three circle buttons on if they were 5 years old, or 3 triangle buttons if they were 6 years old.  They were to color the coat yellow if they like to watch tv on rainy days, or orange if they like to jump in puddles on rainy days.  The hat was supposed to be blue if they were a boy, and red if they were a girl, and the boots were supposed to be colored black if they had a pet at home, or green if they didn't have any pets at all.
I had gotten through the directions on the hat when I looked over at Gina, and she was coloring the hat yellow. 
"You're supposed to color the hat red since you're a girl." I said.
"No.  I won't."  She replied.
"But those are the directions,"  I stupidly said.  "Color the hat red if you're a girl.  You are a girl, so the hat is supposed to be red."
"No.  You do not wear red hats with yellow rain coats.  You wear yellow hats with yellow rain coats.  And yellow boots.  Would you wear a red hat with a yellow coat to school?  I don't think so...."


We were attempting to introduce the kids to ABC order.  We had sentence strips, and I was to give them four adjacent letters of the alphabet.  (E, F, H, G) and have them place the letters in order.  I covered up all the letters on the sentence strip except those 4 letters, and asked Patrick:
"Which letter comes first?"
"A"
"No, of these four letters, which one comes first?"
"A always comes first.  Then B, Then C, then D.  E comes fifth."

Love those kids!!