Learn Me Good

by John Pearson

  Just taking a trip to the restroom is fraught with peril nowadays! From now on, I will have to limit myself to using the one in my portable. And maybe the one in the teachers’ lounge, too. It’s always good to have a redundancy bathroom.

  I know you’re still in the danger zone there when it comes to bathroom usage. There’s nothing more frightening than seeing Larry’s shoes in the next stall. You could always expect to hear a sound like a cantaloupe being dropped from a height of six feet into the bowl. And watch out for the splashing.

  Talk to you later,

  Holden MacRoin

  Date: Thursday, March 11, 2004

  To: Fred Bommerson

  From: Jack Woodson

  Subject: Space, the Forgotten Frontier

  Hey buddy, I know, I know, we agreed not to discuss Larry and his bathroom tendencies. My bad. Hey, congrats on getting the fire put out! Now you can get back to goofing around with Winter and Tiffany. And thanks for the great suggestion. A sign WOULD be cool to have displayed outside my portable! It could say, “13 0 Days Without an Incident.”

  The kids took a science benchmark test today, and, as usual, I was amazed at some of their misinformation. Of all of the topics that we have talked about in science this year, I felt that the kids had gotten the most out of our study of the Solar System. They really seemed to enjoy it and anticipate it, and so I figured that they had learned a lot. Or at least the basics. However, according to this test, Lindsay and Jessica think the Earth revolves around the moon! And Rose thinks that the Sun is a comet, while Miguel and Salma think it’s a planet! I don’t know why they would think that — I’ve told them all along that the Sun is a giant light bulb that God controls with The Clapper.

  Most of these kids just aren’t very science-minded at all. I’ve taken to making my own multiple-choice tests after each chapter, and I always put one or two answers on there that are utterly ridiculous. I mean, no one should be choosing these answers, yet someone always does. I’ll give you an example.

  A few weeks ago, I gave a test over a chapter on forest ecosystems. One question was, “What are the 3 layers of a rain forest?”

  The answer choices were:

  A) First story, second story, ground floor

  B) Leaves, branches, soil

  C) Canopy, understory, forest floor

  D) Strawberry, chocolate, vanilla

  Jessica chose D!! How on earth do you answer a question about rain forests with freakin’ ice cream flavors?!? OK, I’m calm. I’m good. Moving on...

  Our second (and final) parent-teacher conference was tonight — part of the reason I’m writing this so late. It was much more subdued this time than last. Nothing like Chassity’s mother — “readings while she drivings.” They moved away not long after that first conference night.

  Sally’s mom and Zaphonalia’s parents were no-shows — no big surprise there, unfortunately. Krissy’s parents showed up unscheduled, which WAS a huge surprise, because we’ve been trying to get ahold of them for about a month now. They signed some papers that will allow Krissy to have the TAKS math test read to her, which is great, because she knows the math, she just has trouble reading the words.

  We met with Carlos’ parents and Anita’s mother — not because of any problems, but just to stress the importance of home environment and support. It was funny how much Carlos looks like his father, except for the mustache. That’s right, his father doesn’t have a mustache. Ralph’s mother came as well, and we had a good talk with her (through a translator). Ralph is not a bad kid, he’s just lazy, and he allows himself to be influenced by others.

  Speaking of influencers, Marvin’s mother, God bless her, came up once again. We had the usual discourse with us informing her of his recent indiscretions and she apologizing for his behavior. I did get her to sign a paper requesting that Marvin be removed from the Talented and Gifted program, so now at least he won’t be missing any more class time. Oh wait, did I just purposely arrange for more interaction time with Marvin?? What was I thinking??

  Only one more day until Spring Break. What do you plan on doing with your week off? Oh THAT’S right, you don’t GET a week off!

  MUAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! Sorry, dude.

  Later,

  Scott Free

  Date: Friday, March 12, 2004

  To: Fred Bommerson

  From: Jack Woodson

  Subject: Where did they grow you?

  Hey you drone! Spring Break is finally here! And not a moment too soon. We got a new kid today, and after dealing with him, I’m going to need the recovery time! Officially, he’s in Mrs. Swanson’s class, but since he enrolled around 10:20, he was only over there for about ten minutes before switching. And then I had the joy of serving him for the rest of the day.

  This new kid’s name is Jun’tober. I can only guess that his parents didn’t want him to forget when their birthdays are. He’s certainly not the only kid at the school named after a time of year, though. There’s a Summer in the 1st grade, a Solstice in the 6th grade, and sweet little Vernal Equinox in Kindergarten.

  Jun’tober came into class wearing an earring. This is a big no-no for male students at the school. So while the other kids were working on the Problem of the Day, I told him that he would have to remove the little gold stud. He complained that the hole would close up, but I finally convinced him that the rule was unbendable. No jokes about kids with holes in their heads, please.

  Do you remember my description of Mark Peter’s first day at our school? This was pretty much a re-run of that day. We got set up to take our Friday tests. We took the multiplication test (for the privilege of moving forward on the football field) first, and then I passed out a test with word problems. It became quickly apparent that Jun’tober could not read at all (just like Mark Peter).

  I read the first question aloud to him and told him to raise his hand when he was ready for me to come back and read the next one. This worked well enough for the first five or six questions, but the next time I approached his desk, he had already bubbled in answers for all twelve. When I tried to read a question to him, he insisted that he was finished. When I asked him to show me how he had arrived at some of his answers, he got mad and actually left the room! Threw a tantrum, got up and walked right out the door (just like Mark Peter).

  I nearly blew my stack at that. I went outside and called to him to come back, but he walked steadfastly toward the entrance of the main building. I raised my voice quite a bit (teacher-speak for I yelled at the little punk to get his gluteus maximus back here) but he kept walking. Finally, I went back inside the room to monitor the other kids.

  A short time later, I got the kids lined up for lunch, but when I opened the door, it smacked something on the other side. I poked my head out and looked around the door, and there was Jun’tober, standing between the door and the railing, rubbing his nose where it had been hit by the door. He had just been standing there, with his face inches from the door! I’m thinking maybe Marvin could pull some strings and get Jun’tober into the Talented and Gifted program. He seems like a prime candidate.

  He eventually moved and the kids lined up outside. Once again, Jun’tober refused to follow directions, and he would not get in line. He hung back about twenty feet behind the last person in line. As a result, we were all the way to the cafeteria — me standing at the entrance, and the last of the line entering — when Jun’tober finally entered the building. I walked down to the office to get my mail, and when I left the office, Jun’tober had just passed the cafeteria and was approaching me. I told him that he needed to eat lunch in the cafeteria, but he walked right past me and into the office. Thankfully, Ms. Sheldon, one of the assistant principals, was there to intercept him.

  To make a long story short (too late, I know), Ms. Sheldon reinforced the no-earring policy (after storming out of my room, he had put it back in), and I spent most of my lunch break listening to him tell Ms. Sheldon that I wouldn’t let him take the test by himself and that I wouldn’t show
him where the cafeteria was.

  Just like Mark Peter, Day 1, I said. If you recall, Mark Peter got into a fight with a girl on his first day. So naturally, Jun’tober did as well.

  When I dropped the class off at music, I went to the library to check my email. Not five minutes later, Jun’tober entered the library, being accompanied by Mrs. Bird, who told me that I needed to take him down to Ms. Sheldon’s office.

  So once again I got to conference with Ms. Sheldon and Jun’tober. Come to find out, he had hit Susan in music class, so Mr. Green, the music teacher, had put him in timeout. Time-out for music class is standing against the wall in the hallway outside of the classroom. Apparently, Jun’tober just decided to leave and walk around the hallways. Fortunately, Mrs. Bird saw him and took him to the office.

  Just when we’re getting used to Mark Peter being gone, he comes back reincarnated! A return of Mark Peter, or someone even worse, is like Latya in a Speedo — something I shudder to even think about! Evidently, Jun’tober doesn’t act up only at school. I called his mother after school to discuss his behavior. I heroically restrained myself from asking whether her birthday was in June or October. However, I did inform her of her son’s behavior and asked some questions about his home life. She sounded pretty fed up with him as well. When I asked her what his strengths and talents were, she thought for a second and replied, “Nothing, really.”

  And with that, Spring Break begins. Fresh on the heels of a new class terror and a loving mother’s affirmation, I get a week off from the nuthouse.

  Talk to you later,

  Nurse Ratchet

  Date: Tuesday, March 23, 2004

  To: Fred Bommerson

  From: Jack Woodson

  Subject: Bracketology

  Hello my friend, I’m back from a week off, feeling rested, recharged, and infused with a serious case of March Madness! I know you were never one for college hoops, but please tell me that the good folks at Heat Pumps Unlimited are at least keeping the office pool alive in my name?

  Seriously, Spring Break could not have come at a more opportune time. And I don’t just mean because of all that crap with Jun’tober — who, by the way, didn’t even show up yesterday or today. No, it was perfect timing because the first round of the Tournament is always played on a Thursday and a Friday, and this year I already had that entire week off! So I didn’t have to take a vacation day or two like I always did when I was working with you guys. I could just roll out of bed, flip on the tube and watch hours and hours of round ball. Man, I love this time of year!

  I also spent some time last week trying to think of some fun way to tie March Madness in to what I’ve been teaching. After all, it’s easier to teach something if you can make it fun. I pretty much immediately threw out the idea of impersonating Dick Vitale while I taught. The kids probably have no idea who he is, and they’d just think I had gone nuts if I came in shouting things like, “TIME FOR THE DIAPER DANDIES TO FIND THE PERIMETER, WITH A CAPITAL ‘P,’ BAY-BEE!!!”

  I also considered a lesson on creating and reading bar graphs based on data from the tourney. Average number of tattoos per team, years since the last scandal, number of natural cheerleaders — that sort of thing. But that didn’t seem like the best idea, either.

  I finally came up with a feasible idea. We’re going to have our own little tournament here at the school. I drew up brackets with a magic marker on a big piece of poster-board, and I put the kids’ names in the first-round slots. Counting Erica, the newest addition to 3F, I have thirty-two regular ed. kids right now — sixteen in each class — so the names fit perfectly into a set of brackets.

  I didn’t do the bracket seeding in the usual fashion of the NCAA tourney, where the four best teams are placed in separate regions. If I did that, it would hardly be a contest. Those four — Kari, Rafael, Xander, and Tereelia — would almost certainly be the final four, and there would be no point to the first three rounds. Instead, I put the top sixteen students on one side and the bottom sixteen kids on the other. This way, the championship game is sure to be one kid who excels in math, and one who has had some difficulties. I think everyone has a chance to make it to that final game.

  I put the brackets up on the wall today and explained to the kids how it would work. The “match-ups” will take place every Friday, and the person who gets the highest grade on his or her test will advance to the next round. The kids seem to strive on a bit of competition (as evidenced by the football field). I’ll be sure to set up some sort of second chance contest for the kids that get bumped out early so that nobody gets upset and doesn’t even try anymore.

  In this week’s opening round, I have everyone in my homeroom playing against someone in Kelly’s homeroom. There was a lot of excitement, cheers, and anticipation when I read off the match-ups. Ralph was the most vocal, playing cheerleader for his homeroom. Every time I called out a match-up, he would tell the person in the room with him, “Ooooh, you can take him!” or “You can beat her!” However, when he saw that he was paired with Rejoice, he looked a little crestfallen.

  Of course now my biggest temptation is to make my picks and fill in the bracket, just as if it was for an office pool. But I’ll let this one play itself out on its own. Oh, and in a stroke of inspiration (or maybe just plain Velveeta cheesiness), I’ve titled our little tourney “March Mathness.”

  Let the games begin.

  Hoosier Daddy

  Date: Thursday, March 25, 2004

  To: Fred Bommerson

  From: Jack Woodson

  Subject: The Hunt for Red Jun’tober

  Hey dude, Regarding your message titled “Brackets? We don’t need no STEEENKING Brackets!” — Hardy har har. Very clever. Very witty. I’m sure Tom Winter is giggling like a little schoolgirl over that one. But does everyone really want me to send over a copy of my March Mathness bracket? You understand, there can be no wagering.

  Things have taken a strange turn here. I told you in my last email that Jun’tober was not at school on Monday or Tuesday. In fact, today was the first day I’ve seen him since that day he enrolled.

  His mother told me during our phone conversation that he probably wouldn’t be in my class for long, as he was likely going to live with his father soon. I immediately volunteered to help him pack for the journey. No, not really. But when he didn’t show up on Monday, and when Tuesday and Wednesday went by with no sign of him, I figured that what his mother had told me had come true. That sweet notion was dispelled today at lunch.

  In the teacher break room, after eating, Mrs. Fitzgerald said, “We got a new kid in class today with a weird name — Jun’tober.” I just raised an eyebrow, stroked my chin, and cautiously said, “Hmmm...What an odd name for a child!” But Mrs. Swanson had to go and admit, “Oh, he used to be in my class!” D’OH!!

  I would have come clean moments later, of course, but I pretended to give Kelly dirty looks. We told Mrs. Fitzgerald and her partner, Miss Lake, all about our experiences with the lad on the day before Spring Break. It would seem that his mother accompanied him to school today and completely reenrolled him. New info sheet, new ID number, and voila — new teacher. As you can tell, I’m quite shaken up by the loss. I told Mrs. Fitzgerald that I would take Jun’tober back if I needed to, but that I wasn’t about to fight to make that happen. I’m very interested to see how long it will be before Mrs. Fitzgerald will speak to me again. But maybe Jun’tober just has issues with male authority figures and will respond better with a female teacher or two. From what I understand, he was perfect while he was in Mrs. Swanson’s class. Of course, he was only with her for about ten minutes...

  Oh, and here’s some truly great news. We got the TAKS reading test results today. Overall, the 3rd grade had an 83% passing rate, which is pretty darn good for an inner city, low-income, ESL-heavy school! As far as my two classes go, all but five of our kids passed. Kelly has done an outstanding job, because some of these kids could barely read the words “cat” and “dog” at the beginning of the
year. It’s a shame she’s pregnant and can’t drink any alcohol. Guess I’ll just have to drink for two tonight.

  Talk to you later,

  Tom Collins

  Date: Tuesday, March 30, 2004

  To: Fred Bommerson

  From: Jack Woodson

  Subject: My favorite flavor...purple

  Hey bud, I’ll just let you guess who the kids were that failed. Most of them are pretty obvious, if you’ve actually been reading my emails. But Plakton was not one of them. He didn’t pass the test — he just didn’t have to take it. We got him into Special Ed., so he was exempt. Unfortunately, he’s only exempt from the reading test. He still has to take the math TAKS test next month. YIKES is right. I have been doing everything I can think of to try to bring him up to speed. And you had better believe that includes praying.

  Praying might not be enough for the new kid I got in my class today. His name is Samsonite, and he is a very strange child. You know, I’ve seen several examples of kids named after cars, but any kid with a name like Samsonite has got to be carrying around some emotional baggage. (Cue rim shot) Thank you, I’ll be here all week. Don’t forget to tip your wait staff.

  On my desk, I have a container full of sharpened pencils for the kids to use. If they break a pencil, they go and replace it with a sharp one. If they are exchanging pencils too often, or if I think they are breaking them on purpose, I give them a crayon to use for the rest of the day.

  This was Samsonite’s first day, but he picked up on the pencil exchange procedure pretty quickly. After only about two hours into class, he was up at my desk returning his third pencil (and getting a fourth out of the container) when I stopped him and looked at the pencil he was returning. The thing was shattered. Not your typical oops-I-pushed-too-hard-while-writing-and-the-tip-broke-off. No, this looked more like Bert’s pencils when he would get mad at a forecast meeting and slam them on the edge of the conference table. I gave him a purple crayon to use for the rest of the day. Samsonite, that is, not Bert.