by John Pearson
Our next stop was a big cave. The kids paired up and went in holding flashlights. This was probably the one time I considered it OK to send a group of kids somewhere and then ignore their screams and shrieks. Thankfully, no one got lost inside the caves, and I didn’t have to mount a search and rescue. Though I did go through the cave once just to check it out for myself. Pretty nasty, actually. Lots of dirt, dust, and spiders, and a slight smell of tuna. I later heard rumors that some of the fourth graders were making out in the cave. Lovely. Next time I see someone displaying affection in public, I’m going to yell at them, “Get a cave, you two!”
Next up was a clearing with a couple of replica pirate ships. They were actually pretty impressive in their size and detail. We did have to stop Plakton from walking the plank and falling fifteen feet to the ground. Lord knows he would have done it, too.
After a break for lunch, our group continued on to “Fort Wisdom,” which as you might guess was created to look like an old Civil War fort. One of the activities at the fort was horseshoes, and while a couple of the kids understood the concept of underhanded tossing, many of the kids tried to hurl the horseshoes like baseballs. Just like at the castle, there was a jail cell here at the fort, which quickly filled to capacity. I REALLY hope this is not a premonition of the future for these kids.
Our last stop was “The Flight Center.” This was basically a giant plastic slide area, like you find at a McDonald’s Playland (are we still having your birthday party there this year?). Outside of the slide area, there was a used twoseater plane that the kids could sit in. With the steering wheel and pedals, they could manipulate the rudder and wing flaps. Which they did as violently as they could.
All in all, it was a fun day. Nice to get away from the school for a while. But by the end of the day, I’ll admit I was tired and just ready to be home. Maybe that’s why when Rose presented a problem to me at the slide area, my solution was not quite up to the usual standards. She ran up to me and exclaimed, “Mr. Woodson, somebody wrote a bad word on one of the slides!” My tired brain did the best it could, and I replied, “OK, well, try not to read it.”
I ask you, brilliant or pathetic? Either way, my batteries need recharging.
Talk to you later,
Gene Yuss
Date: Friday, May 14, 2004
To: Fred Bommerson
From: Jack Woodson
Subject: I see red people
Hey dude, I think you should definitely suggest a Management Bonding Seminar at Camp Wisdom. Sure, they could put Bert into one of the castle dungeons like you said, but just don’t let Larry lure Tiffany or Nancy into the cave.
We were determined to have two field trips this year, even if they are only a few days apart. After the trip to Camp Wisdom on Tuesday, everyone was looking forward to going to Flagpole Hill today. Flagpole Hill is a park over by White Rock Lake where they have lots and lots of open space. The park is only about a mile away, so we walked there.
All of the weather people were predicting heavy storms for today, and this morning, it certainly looked as though those forecasts would be accurate. The sky was black and dreary before school, and things did not look good. I started to put sunscreen on before the bell rang, but I felt kind of foolish doing that when it seemed so obvious that we would be staying inside all day, so I stopped. As you know by now, the sun came out and it was a beautiful day, so I am sporting quite the farmer’s tan right now. My neck and forearms are a lovely radioactive shade of red, but at least my face was protected by what little screen I did put on.
Mrs. Swanson, being pregnant, drove her car to the park, so she took all of the supplies — hot dogs, drinks, sports equipment, etc. The rest of us — this being the whole 3rd grade — made the trek over hill and dale, over the river and through the woods... Oh wait, that’s the way to Grandmother’s house. I tried to keep my class together during the walk, but that was just about impossible with kids like Thomson and Jorge on one end of the spectrum, wanting to lead the pack, and Lindsay on the other end, sashaying along slightly slower than a glacier. Fortunately, the teachers were spread out along the moving mass, so we could pretty much play zone defense and watch the kids in our area, regardless of class.
Once we got to the park, there were lots of activities for the kids. We had footballs, frisbees, and jump ropes, and there was a small playground. I tried to get a game of kickball going, and that turned into a fiasco.
I chose two kids as captains and let them choose teams. One team wound up being all of the biggest, meanest, most obnoxious bullies in the third grade, including Thomson and Jun’tober. If they had a team T-shirt made up, it would probably say, “Good sportsmanship? What the *@&# is that?”
Not only were they bullying and trash talking the other team, but they were the biggest babies on the field as well. The score was like 268-2 in their favor, but they all threw a tantrum when I put a couple of girls who wanted to play on the opposite team. These kids have learned to emulate certain pro athletes a little too well. Jun’tober actually refused to pitch to Zaphonalia because he was afraid she would kick it too far.
Speaking of Zaphonalia, she wore her “Kiss me, I’m Irish,” T-shirt today. She’s worn this shirt before, and I always have to stifle a belly laugh. Zaphonalia, you may remember, is a large black girl, and I’m pretty sure the only way she would have any Irish in her is if she had a bowl of Lucky Charms for breakfast.
I was so happy when it was time for lunch and kickball ended. After a couple of hot dogs, I joined a small group of boys who were tossing a football around. We started up a game where I would throw the ball to the boys one at a time, and they would get points if they caught it. Sa’tun and Carlos apparently thought I had a rocket for an arm, because when their turn came, they moved farther and farther away from me. I hit one kid with a perfect pass that felt like I had thrown the length of a football field. In reality, it was probably only about twenty yards, but I can dream.
I also got to toss a frisbee around with Sally, Pinar, Sandra, Erica, and Guadelupe. So I got all the gossip on who likes who, who could maybe be cool, and who’s a mean poopy-pants.
The walk back to school was a big headache. From school to park had taken us about thirty minutes. From park to school took nearly an hour! I found myself at the very back, with the stragglers, and I just could not get them to go any faster. We passed a man fishing in the creek, and once again, the children’s inner rubberneckers asserted themselves. Even my not-so-subtle comments about ferocious water snakes and their infamous appetites for children did nothing to increase these kids’ speed. We barely made it back in time to get everyone on the buses.
Now I understand why some teachers say field trips are worse than test days. Though a lot of fun, I am burnt, hungry, and exhausted. At least I can take care of two of those things right now. The lobster look will have to remain for a while.
Later,
Hell Boy
Date: Tuesday, May 18, 2004
To: Fred Bommerson
From: Jack Woodson
Subject: Does this come in cherry-flavored?
Hey Fred, I’ve heard Tom Winter share that story many times, so I know all about the guys that sit out in their cars at White Rock Lake. Fortunately, we were nowhere near any of those parking lots, but we certainly did keep a sharp eye on all of the kids last week.
And yes, I am still glowing, thanks for asking. I think I could fry an egg on my arm, if I so chose. Where was the G. I. Joe public service announcement guy to come and tell me, “You should always put on sunscreen, even when it is pitch black with thunderclouds outside?”
Have you ever heard of the ITBS? It stands for the Iowa Test of Basic Skills. Toto, I don’t think we’re in Iowa anymore. I don’t think we were EVER in Iowa, but it’s a test we have to take. Oh, and what a bundle of joy it is. We’ve spent the last two weeks (not counting field trips, obviously) pretty much undoing all of the TAKS strategies that we’ve given the kids all year long. The TAKS is an untimed
test, so we drilled into the kids the need to take their time, show every bit of work they’d done, and check every answer for mistakes. Now here comes the ITBS, which is a timed test — if they take their time and show their work, they will not finish! And even worse, they are not allowed to write in their books. So for a computation problem like 324 X 8, the kids have to copy it from their test booklet to a scratch piece of paper, solve it, and then fill in a bubble on a THIRD piece of paper! You know as well as I do that some professional engineers (who shall remain nameless) can’t even shuffle 3 pieces of paper at the same time!
Anyway, enough ranting about the system. I do have a funny story for you today. It involves Samsonite. You remember Samsonite, right? Captain Crayon?
The story is funny now, but at first I was pretty upset. Before I get to Samsonite’s genius, let me describe the ITBS bubble sheet for you. It’s basically an 8 ½ X 11 Scantron, with answer bubbles on one side, and information bubbles on the other. Information being name, student ID number, race, gender, etc. Since this is standardized, all of the bubble sheets were already pre-coded, which means each sheet had already been stamped with all of that info for each child. All of the bubbles were blank, and I explained to the kids that they were to leave that side of the page alone, not to write anything or fill in those bubbles.
Well, when I collected Samsonite’s bubble sheet, I immediately noticed something amiss. He had written his name everywhere. Not only did he bubble in the name section and write “Samsonite” in the boxes (like I had instructed the kids not to), he had also filled in his name in the space for Student ID. On the backside, there was a line proceeded by “Section Name” and guess what? He wrote his name there, too!
I’ve heard people joke that you get 200 points on the SAT just for writing your name. Maybe Samsonite heard this and thought he could score an easy 1000 if he wrote his name five times.
But wait — there’s more!! I told you this was a timed test, right? So usually, if the kids were running out of time, they would bubble in all of the “C” answer choices for the questions that were still left. Samsonite obviously had that tactic in mind, but instead of filling in individual bubbles, he made a big rectangle around ALL of the “C”s and then he darkened in the entire rectangle!
And we’re not done yet! I learned today that crayons are not the only things this boy eats when he gets hungry. The child had chewed off one corner of the Scantron! I kid you not, Fred, there was a triangle about an inch on a side missing from his bubble sheet. Here I always thought my brother was weird for biting the head off of his Princess Leia action figure when we were little, but Samsonite puts him to shame.
Man, I’m afraid to turn in this answer sheet for fear of destroying the grading machine! Wait, on second thought, maybe that wouldn’t be so bad after all...
Later,
The Boy in the Bubble
Date: Monday, May 24, 2004
To: Fred Bommerson From: Jack Woodson
Subject: And the verdict is...
Hey buddy, Sorry that it’s been a while since I wrote, but the endof-year crunch has gotten to me. But don’t worry, I’m going to take your advice. Since we already know Samsonite eats crayons and paper, I probably SHOULD examine his desk closely to see if he nibbled on any part of it. Sadly for all of us hypernutritionists, though, Samsonite has left the premises. He withdrew last Friday. My Crayolas heaved a sigh of relief.
Today was a pretty spectacular day, for a Monday. And I’m not just saying that because there are now only two days left in the school year. We got the TAKS scores back today, and they were pretty darn amazing.
Around 9:15 this morning, Mrs. Jones came into my room and gave me the papers that had everyone’s scores on them. She congratulated me, and we whispered for a few moments about the scores. I needed confirmation that I was reading some of them correctly. As in, “This IS a passing score, right?”
The kids were once again spread out around the room, taking their last benchmark test. We just can’t seem to get enough tests in, can we? After Mrs. Jones left, I walked to the center of the room and asked everyone to stop working and to put their pencils down. I wanted to be sure I had all of the kids’ undivided attention.
I told them, “I have some REALLY good news, kids. I just saved a bunch of money on my car insurance!”
No, no, I’m just kidding. I told them, “Mrs. Jones just came in here and gave me some very important information. I wanted to say how proud I am of all of you because every single person in this room right now passed the TAKS math test!”
It took about five seconds for that to sink in, and then smiles started to spread around the room to match the huge grin I was wearing myself. Either not understanding or (more likely) just wanting to be recognized individually, Thomson asked, “I passed?” “Yes!” I replied. “Me too?” Lindsay asked next. “Every one of you!” I insisted, hoping I wouldn’t have to confirm each kid one at a time. (Though I WAS tempted to glance at the score sheet one more time, just to be sure about Lindsay.)
We had a few moments of celebration, then the kids resumed working on their tests. When we switched classes, I was able to say the same thing to my second group. “Everyone in this room right now passed the TAKS math test!” Again, the reaction was joy tempered with a bit of disbelief.
The final results:
The 3rd grade passing rate was 93%, which is awesome! Thirty-two out of my thirty-four kids that took the test passed. Carmen, who was absent today, only missed passing by one question, poor girl. She was the one who enrolled the day before the test. And to the great surprise of absolutely no one, Samsonite failed the test. In spectacular fashion.
Everyone else passed! Marvin passed! Ralph and Sandra and Jessica passed! Kari ACED the sucker, but that’s really no big surprise, because she’s a brilliant girl. Most amazing of all — Plakton passed!!! I can hardly believe that. I think that because he passed, I only need to perform one more miracle and I can be canonized a saint when I die.
We also got the results back from the second Reading TAKS test. Sally and Miguel passed, but there are still three of our kids that will now have one final chance to pass — in July — before being retained.
I know that I have complained about these kids at times this year, but I am so proud of all of them right now. I think I know how Kate and Leo felt in Titanic. The “King of the World” scene that is, not the “I can’t feel my legs because I’m clinging to driftwood in freezing waters” scene. WOOHOO!!!
See ya later,
Kung-Fu Master
Date: Wednesday, May 26, 2004
To: Fred Bommerson
From: Jack Woodson
Subject: That’s all, folks!
Hey buddy, School’s out for summer! Ah yes, the classic Loving Spoonfuls song is on high blast at my place today. Or was it Simon and Garfunkel?
We ended the year on a really good note. Don’t tell anyone, but we really didn’t do much actual teaching today. Not that the kids would have done much actual learning today.
Mrs. Swanson and I only held our classes for about an hour, then we switched classes really early so that at 10:00, all of our kids were in my room, and we watched The Lion King 1 ½ on video. If anyone had protested the educational value in just showing a movie, I was prepared to say that it showed the importance of fractions, reading a number line, and animal behavior patterns in nature. Except for the singing meerkats, of course.
After lunch, we had our end-of-the-year awards ceremony. Kelly made up fliers inviting parents to the ceremony, and we sent them out last week. Unfortunately, even being my partner for a full school year did not prevent her from writing on the fliers, “In Mr. Wooden’s portable.” Oh yes, I called her Barry all day long for that one.
We actually had a large turn out, and my room was full. The kids sat on the floor in the center of the room, and the parents — around 25 of them — sat in chairs. I gave a short little speech welcoming the parents and telling them what a pleasure it was to have t
aught their kids and what a good job their children had done on the TAKS tests. It’s strange how I can talk all day long in front of a group of kids just fine, but I still get nervous in front of a group of adults. Talking to the parents today, I felt a bit self-conscious. Kind of like when you ring the bell on the way out of a Long John Silvers. You know it’s what you’re supposed to do, but it’s awkward because everyone stares at you.
Kelly and I stood at the front and handed out the awards. Now when I say awards, I mean certificates, with categories like Math Award, Reading Award, Classroom Helper, Good Attitude, and Least Annoying. OK, I made that last one up.
The rule was that each child was supposed to get two certificates minimum. Some kids, like Raphael, Kari, and Tereelia, got five or six awards. We had to stop ourselves from giving them more. With others, we had a much harder time coming up with even two awards. Ralph, for instance. We couldn’t even give him the “gimme” award — the Completion of 3rd Grade — because he hasn’t yet passed the TAKS reading test. I think we finally wound up giving him an Art award and a P.E. award.
On Monday, Kelly and I each had our homerooms vote by secret ballot on who they thought should get the Class Citizenship Award. Sort of like a Little People’s Choice Award. They chose wisely. Rejoice got the award in my homeroom, and Pinar got it in Mrs. Swanson’s.
To Marvin, we gave a Classroom Helper Award and the Good Choices Award. Hellloooooo?? Have you read ANY of my emails? Of course we did not give him those awards! He did get the coveted Completion of Grade Award, and then I gave him a Science Award, which he actually earned. He did quite well on the science benchmark tests throughout the year, when few others did. (Perhaps he has a future as a Nutty Professor.) I wanted to give him the prestigious “Don’t Let the Door Hit You on the Way Out” Award, but Kelly wouldn’t let me. Marvin’s mom was there today, and Marvin insisted that she take a picture of him with his math teacher. That kid — for all his crazy antics, he certainly contributed mightily to a first year of teaching that I will never forget.
