by John Pearson
I’m sorry that you’re taking a lot of the blame for production errors. But consider this — at least you don’t have to deal with children behaving like exotic dancers.
After today, I am convinced that Lucifer’s mom, or “Auntie,” or whoever she is living with must be a stripper. All of the sidewalks out around our classrooms are covered, and the coverings are held up by poles on either side of the walkway, spaced about ten feet apart. Lucifer performed what can only be described as a pole dance on one of these walkway supports. I’m not talking about grabbing hold of the pole and swinging around it like Gene Kelly, Singin’ in the Rain style. No, this was incredibly lewd, and I won’t even describe it here. Suffice it to say that she has to have seen those moves somewhere before. If not from a relative, then she must watch Showgirls every single night of her life. (And that would certainly explain a good deal of her instability.) Thankfully, she was at the back of the line, and I don’t think any of the other kids saw her cabaret act.
A little later, when the kids were lined up at the portable restrooms, I noticed that the new girl, Francine, had suddenly appeared. She was standing on the sidewalk, about twenty feet away from us. I started to get worried, because she was acting like someone on drugs. Calling to her got no response. Even standing right in front of her, saying her name and waving my hands in front of her eyes, I got nothing. Her eyes didn’t even appear to be tracking anything. I was almost expecting her head to spin all the way around and to hear her croak, “THERE IS NO FRANCINE, THERE IS ONLY ZUUL.”
Eventually, she snapped out of it and got in line, and we went back to the classroom. However, Francine and Lucifer refused to come inside. Nothing I said would get them to enter my room. The district tends to frown upon teachers bodily picking up students to move them, so I didn’t know what else to do. But I had twenty-some other students waiting for something to do, so I went in to get them set up with their tests.
I came back outside about five minutes later, and both girls were gone. Great! Lucifer is on the loose, and she’s recruited an acolyte! I called Mrs. Jones, my grade chair, thinking that since she doesn’t have a class of her own, she might be able to look around the campus for them. When she showed up a few minutes later, Mrs. Bird also showed up, with the two girls in tow. She had noticed them standing around outside giggling and asked them to come into her room. She told me later at lunch that both girls had told her that they hate me. How sweet. I’m beginning to think I might not be getting a Christmas present from those girls.
Neither girl was in my class for long after they finally returned. A teacher’s aide took Francine to the library for tutoring, and Mrs. Jones sent Mrs. O’Brien, the counselor, to get Lucifer. She’ll probably be suspended for a couple of days next week because of her ever-increasing rap sheet. From that point on, my day was pretty normal. The only abnormal thing was the name of the new little boy that showed up around lunchtime. His name is Plakton. He’ll be in Mrs. Swanson’s homeroom, and Sally, another third-grade newcomer, will be in mine. Other than the name, though, Plakton seems OK. Mind you, I think I said something similar about Francine, and look where that got me. Maybe God is punishing me for going to a college that has a devil as its mascot...
Talk to you later,
Michael the Archangel
Date: Monday, September 29, 2003
To: Fred Bommerson
From: Jack Woodson
Subject: And a first-round pick, to be named later
Hey F-Bomm, Let me address your suggestions in order:
1) I am not going to a strip club for a parent conference, so you can stop trying to track down the place of employment of the “Auntie.”
2) Cattle prods with children would be dangerous AND against the law.
3) Mrs. O’Brien has other things to do all day than baby sit Lucifer full-time, and bribery wouldn’t change that. Probably.
Today marks the beginning of the second six-week period here at the school, and we’ve made some changes. Last week, the seven third-grade teachers and Mrs. Jones had a meeting where we redistributed the classes. The idea was to take Ms. Dennison’s class — she is the only self-contained class, meaning she doesn’t partner teach — and turn it into an ESL class. This means that the other six of us gave her our Spanish-speaking kids, and our Special Ed. kids as well. She, in turn, split her kids up among our classes.
The first thing I wanted to know was if I would be getting a first-round draft pick next year — isn’t that usually an integral part of a trade package? Sadly, this question was met with blank stares.
Lots of kids in my class speak Spanish, but the ESL class is for the non-English speaking ones, or the kids who are really struggling with English. Mrs. Swanson and I gave Ms. Dennison three kids from each of our classes, and in return, we received four new students each. In 3F, Kelly got three girls — Salma, Susan, and Zaphonalia — and a boy named Victor (no, not Von Doom). In 3E, I got three boys — Jorge, Miguel, and Xander — and a girl named Christy. Don’t worry, I’ll try to get you a program, so you can keep track of all the player substitutions.
The trades went into effect today, so as class rosters go, it felt like starting the school year all over again. Ms. Dennison assured us that all of these kids were great students and that none were discipline problems, but only time will tell. I will miss most of those kids that are now in her class, but hopefully they will get more attention and individualized instruction since their class is not only homogenous, but also much smaller.
Since it was so much like starting over today, I decided to implement my new test-grading procedure as well. Until now, whenever I went over a test, the kids didn’t pay much attention. I’m pretty sure this is because they were already graded, and we were just going over the answers. The kids who had scored well thought they had earned the right not to have to listen, while the kids who had done poorly were too depressed, I guess. So I made a little change to the system.
Last Friday, I graded the tests and wrote the scores in my grade book, as usual. But this time, I didn’t put any marks on the tests themselves. No X’s, no checks, and certainly no grades. Today when I passed the tests back to their owners, I made a little spiel to the kids. “I’ve already graded these tests,” I told them. “And I have the grades in my grade book. We’re going to go over the answers now, and you are going to grade the papers. And when we’re done, you had better have the same grade that I have in my book, because if you don’t, I’ll know that you weren’t paying attention. And that will mean no recess for two days.”
Let me tell you, it worked like a charm. I only had one kid in either class who wrote a different grade on his paper, and that was no surprise at all, because it was Esteban. He awarded himself a 100 when in reality he had made a 59. I thought about making him figure out the difference between the two grades, but I just didn’t have time to go through his guessing process. “FOURTEEN!! “FIFTY-SEVEN!!! “EIGHT!!!!!”
Later, 3E General Manager
Date: Wednesday, October 1, 2003
To: Fred Bommerson
From: Jack Woodson
Subject: The eyes have it
Hey bud, Very perceptive of you. With the end of a 6-week period come report cards. I downed a gallon of Graderade and doled out some scores last week. Why would Tiffany think I failed everybody? Tell her nobody failed — though Jessica and Esteban certainly tried.
In addition to a grade, MANY of the kids also received the comment, “Needs improvement in exhibiting self-control.” That’s only because there was no code for “Needs improvement in not acting like a complete idiot.”
Oh, and to answer your question, no, I will not be putting any of the kids’ tests, papers, or writing samples up for sale on Ebay. I’m sure you were joking about that, right? Didn’t you tell me that Andy got in big trouble last month for selling old pump parts on Ebay? Funny how Tom Winter and I never got in trouble for trying to sell Larry online. Of course, that was probably due to the fact that there were never a
ny bidders.
On to today’s “Sad but True” files. After we switched classes this morning, I was observing the kids as they worked. In particular, I was watching Plakton. And as far as entertainment goes, he didn’t disappoint.
He wasn’t doing his math work, but he was playing around with his pencil. Bouncing the eraser end on his desk and closely scrutinizing how it moved. A little TOO closely, actually. Somehow, he managed to poke himself in the eye. With the sharp end, no less. It was the worst case of hand-eye coordination gone awry I’ve ever seen.
As I continued to watch, Plakton glanced quickly around the room to see if anyone else had witnessed his impromptu attempt to join the Eye Patch of the Month Club. He even looked up at the ceiling once or twice, maybe thinking I was after some aerial photos of the incident.
He finally got out of his seat, approached me, and told me that he needed to go to the nurse because he had recently had eye surgery, and he didn’t want to mess up his eyes. I suggested that a good rule of thumb might be NOT to poke yourself in the eye with the sharp end of a pencil. I’m really not entirely sure that message was received. So much for any hope of him being normal.
Apparently, Plakton had Lasik surgery or something like it last month. Before that, he had worn glasses. Let’s get that lady from the district office back in here and ask her if she thinks poking yourself in the eye with a pencil is sexy.
I looked at his eyes, and they were fine. There was no need for him to go to the nurse, but how careless can you be? I myself had jaw surgery almost ten years ago. It was completely broken and reset, and I can honestly say I went out of my way NOT to whack myself on the chin with a baseball bat or try to take a bite out of a shot put. You don’t really see too many people with slings trying to slam their arm in a car door. It’s just common sense, and somebody obviously doesn’t have any. I really think that boy has been hit in the head with a few too many rogue bludgers.
Lucifer is back today, after being suspended on Monday and Tuesday. Hasn’t changed a bit. All day long, she kept demanding that everyone call her “Beazy B.” Not really the name that was on the tip of my tongue. Though Fred, I should remind you that these ARE children, and we can’t just view them with the analytical eye of the engineer. For instance, I don’t know that I would refer to Marvin, Francine, and Lucifer as “Bad Data Points,” as you so brazenly call them.
Later,
Cyclops
Date: Friday, October 3, 2004
To: Fred Bommerson
From: Jack Woodson
Subject: Hut 1, Hut 2, Hut 3 times 6
Hey buddy, You’re kidding — Paul had Lasik last month? What a coincidence! Still, I’m not sure that asking your boss if he’s poked himself in the eye with a pencil is all that bright, without letting him in on the context first. That might be considered what Latya always called a “CLM” — Career Limiting Move.
Are you ready for some football?? Yes, I realize that the NFL is already midway through their season. My 0-5 fantasy football record is a harsh, constant reminder. However, we’ve finally started to use the football field bulletin board in my classroom. I think I mentioned this board to you in an earlier email, but I didn’t go into too many details.
I’ve had this field up since the beginning of the school year, and the kids have repeatedly asked when we were going to start using it. After I’ve tackled them to the floor and chicken danced on them, they generally haven’t asked again.
The board looks like an overhead view of a football field — green background, with white stripes marking the end zones, sidelines, and major yard lines. However, instead of the yard lines being marked 10, 20, 30, and so on, they are marked 1,2,3...up through 10. The numbers 1 through 10 run left to right on top of the field and right to left on the bottom (so that 3E and 3F can march across the field in different directions). One end zone represents 11, the other 12. I even put the word “HAWKS” in each end zone and a picture of a hawk at center field, since the school mascot is — you guessed it — a monkey.
I gave the kids three options for markers to vote on earlier in the week. A football, a football helmet, and a football jersey. Ralph wanted to vote for a hockey puck, but I pretty much ignored him. The overwhelming favorite was the jersey, so there are about forty little blue and gold jerseys with names on them on both of the “1-yard” lines.
Each week, the kids will be learning the times table for one particular number. There are catchy little songs to help the kids remember. Personally, I think they would catch on much faster if they had someone experienced and in uniform leading the songs — like say, the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders. But (and I just learned this), the squad apparently doesn’t make school appearances (or apartment visits) during the regular season.
We’re going to focus on multiplication during Minute Math every day. At the end of the week, everyone will take a multiplication quiz in an attempt to master a certain times table. If they get every question right, their marker will move forward one line on the field. If they miss any questions, they’ll have to take the same quiz the next week, and so on, until they get them all right. This week, the quiz was over 0’s and 1’s, so nearly everyone got onto the field. Yes, I did say nearly everyone (sigh). Poor Jessica, who thinks 0 X 8 = 12, is going to have to ride the pine for another week.
Catch you later,
Multiple Man
Date: Tuesday, October 7, 2003
To: Fred Bommerson
From: Jack Woodson
Subject: Signature Verification
Hey F-Man, Yes, there probably will be some sort of prize, but I really don’t think that I can afford to give out Playstations to every child that scores a multiplication touchdown. What have you been smoking? Unless you are suggesting that somehow HPU is going to foot the bill?
And wow, your meeting sounds like it was a REALLY great time! I remember those things all too well. But don’t worry, I haven’t escaped it, we have just as many meetings here. At least there aren’t all the annoying industry buzzwords floating around in my meetings. Or at least not the same buzzwords. I thought if I heard Reggie use the phrase, “shift in paradigm” one more time, I was gonna have to strangle him. And all those acronyms! It’s bad enough that I now have to deal with TAKS day in and day out, but over on your end, you have Customer Focused Business Teams (CFBT); Rapid Thermal Application Process (RTAP); Consumer Retention And Protection (CRAP). It’s enough to give a guy acrophobia.
And speaking of phobias, your bud, Messy Marvin, is at it once again. He tried to pull one over on me today, but his ploy was pretty transparent. Always entertaining, though.
It all started yesterday, as we were taking a restroom break after recess. Mr. Mills, a second grade teacher, was reading Marvin the riot act. When I asked Mr. Mills what had happened, he told me that Marvin had said something terrible to one of the second graders. As soon as we got back to my classroom, I sat Marvin down at my desk with pencil and paper and had him write down what he had said. Here is what I got back, in Marvin’s own words:
In the hallway I said shout the fouk up. I said that to a little gril in the 2 Grad.
I am assuming that he meant “little girl,” not that he cussed out a George Foreman cooking implement.
Later, when the class was at P.E., I made a copy of Marvin’s testimony and sent it home with him, telling him to show it to his mother and to bring it back with her signature.
Today, I asked to see the note, and he pulled it out of his homework folder. When he handed it to me, it was all I could do to keep a straight face. His mother’s name was there all right, but it was printed, in pencil, and floating off the line at about a 30-degree angle. The “s” in the first name was backwards, and the last name was missing a letter.
Frankly, I’m surprised he hadn’t simply signed, “Marvin’s Mother.”
Once I had swallowed the giggles, I called Marvin out into the entryway to talk to him alone and told him that I wasn’t fooled. I asked why he didn’t show the not
e to his mother, and he responded in his high-pitched squeaky voice, “I guess because I just didn’t want to get into trouble.” Yeah, it’s a little late for THAT, ya little wing nut. At least now I have some evidence to hold on to for parent conference night next week.
In other news, Lucifer is no longer in my class. (And there was much rejoicing.) The paperwork from her old school finally caught up with her, and a mistake was found. She had been moved back to third grade here because she had never passed the TAKS reading test. However, her paperwork showed that she had been in special ed. in another district and thus exempted from even TAKING the test. So she has been moved back to the fourth grade. I’m sure Mrs. Andrews and Mrs. Carpenter just love me right now.
And ya know, I already miss Lucifer. Kind of like I miss braces, college term papers, and movies headlined by Steven Seagal.
Talk to you later,
Mr. Focker
Date: Thursday, October 9, 2003
To: Fred Bommerson
From: Jack Woodson
Subject: Two names are better than one?
Hey bud, Yes, I still have to attend meetings, even here. Staff meetings, grade-level meetings, committee meetings, etc. And I don’t think shouting, “There’s the Bat-signal! I must leave now!” and running out of a meeting will work here. Heaven knows it never worked for me at HPU.
I got a new kid in my homeroom today, and I can already tell that he is trouble with a capital “TRUB.” The lad’s name is Mark Peter, and though today was his first day in my class, it’s actually his second day at the school. He showed up yesterday after lunch, so he went straight to Mrs. Swanson’s class, where he promptly managed to get into a fistfight. With Francine, who has already taken up the mantle of our dearly departed Lucifer. So we’re already off to a fantastic start.
