Chalkdust in My Coffee

My classroom had a mascot today: a 4-week old kitten I had foster-mommed overnight. Yes, that is way too young for it to be away from its mother -- but it's a rescue situation. Anyhow, since I'm bottle-feeding her kitten formula every two hours or so, I brought her to work with me. I thought I'd be able to get her to sleep in her carrier during class, but she CRIED every time I put her down. So what did I do? I put on a zip-up sweatshirt (so much for looking professional today, I suppose) and tucked her inside, so I ended up with this weird lump on my chest through most of the day. Hilariously, every now and then she'd wake up and peek her head out of the shirt by my neck -- this brought out "aaaaaw" faces even the most self-controlled "cool" kids in my classes. 

It was such a good experience. My kids paid attention, and a few times I even used petting her as a reward for people willing to participate in class.* Why is it we do away with classroom pets after elementary school? Animals bring about such a compassionate, warm mood in people -- and the calming effect they have can help students focus. When I was in graduate school, my cat used to sit on my lap exactly at the moment I was about to get up and walk away from my computer in frustration -- she did this as if she knew I needed it. Maybe I need a classroom chinchilla or something. **

Seriously, this is something to think about. 

*Don't worry, I made them wash their hands.  

** Don't worry, as a former chinchilla companion I fully realize a high school classroom would NOT be an ideal living situation for a chin. 

Awkward teaching moment #4

We recently had "Spirit Week" at my school (warning: it inspired several posts that I'll put up here in the near future). For those of you who do not spend much time in American public high schools, a spirit week is a week of insanity leading up to the annual Homecoming game and dance. Each day is a different themed dress-up day, there is a hallway decoration competition, skits are performed, and all sorts of other local-specific madness. 

Tuesday of this year's spirit week was "Decade Day". The idea was to pick a decade from the 20th century and dress up as a stereotype from that decade would dress. A few of my senior boys decided to take on a group effort by dressing as a 1970's basketball team -- knee socks, short shorts, tight jerseys, and in a few cases even fake mustaches. One even took on the tole of a coach, wearing loafers, ugly brown trousers, a short-sleeved button-down shirt, a bad tie, whistle, glasses, clipboard, etc. ANYWAY, as I was wandering the hall before first period, I came across these boys -- and could not help but notice that one of them had - ahem -- enhanced his costume to obnoxious proportions by augmenting the front of his shorts. Was it a sock? A cup three sizes too big? I don't know, I didn't look long enough. But It was clear that something was going on there. 

I was about to point out to him that he was probably violating our reasonably liberal dress code that says no one may wear anything that draws inappropriate attention to one's body when I realized I COULD NOT SAY A DARN THING. What if he claimed I was a pervy older female staring at his crotch? Just think of all those terrible news stories about female teachers having affairs with their students (yuck!) -- I sure as hell don't want to end up on the 6:00 news. Still worse, what if by some highly disturbing coincidence it WASN'T a prop? 

This must be what male teachers feel like when they have to write up female students for wearing boobie shirts (and why, as a policy, several of them call me or another young female teacher to deal with the situation so they can avoid the awkwardness and possible allegations altogether). 

Anyhow, around lunchtime I went to our (also-female-yet-much-older) disciplinarian's office to mention it to her. All I said was "I need your professional opinion about a student's outfi---" and she rolled her eyes. She already knew, and had already talked to him. Apparently he slyly attempted to play dumb the whole time, but leaned way back in his chair to put the questionable part of his costume on display while asking "What do you mean my outfit is inappropriate?"

Teenage boys. Geez. Thank goodness I wasn't the one to deal with it. 

I drank Diet Mountain Dew today. This is rare. Hilariously, though, one of my seniors who also had me during his sophomore year took notice. "It's a busy day, huh Ms. Em?" he asked, gesturing toward the incriminating bottle. Apparently he remembered me explaining to his shocked class two years ago (shocked, because usually in front of my kids I'm a crazy health nut) that I DO drink soda every now and then when I need to get a million things done at a maniacal pace. 

It's strange how kids notice small signals we give off without realizing it. Four or five years ago a kid walked into my room and said "Uh-oh, your hair's up. You only pull your hair up when you're ticked off about something."

Apparently they do pay attention to us. 

Anyhoo...

Remind me to tell you tomorrow about the presentations my seniors did today... they were so funny my face hurts from smiling. 

Teacher Dreams

Near the end of last summer, I posted this about the "teacher nightmares" I have. 

As the year has progressed (are we SERIOUSLY almost through the first quarter?!), I have had even more bizarre dreams -- not nightmares anymore, but slightly disturbing nonetheless. Most of them are in some way triggered by event in or near my classroom. One of my 2nd period senior girls got a simple tattoo on her forearm last week, and a night or two later I found myself dreaming that my 2nd period class took me on a field trip to get the labyrinth tattoo I want... and weirder still, when we arrived at the tattoo shop the artist who was going to work on me was none other than a kid who I had in one of my sophomore classes years ago. Eek. 

Teacher-friends who read this, what weird teaching dreams have you have? 

Awkward moment of the year #3

(I'll have to tell you about #s 1 and 2 later, since I'm so far behind on things I need to post here.)

I'm about 90 seconds into teaching a class this morning. There is a knock at my door. I open it. Two kids are there, and after exchanging odd looks with each other one of them  says "um, there's a girl locked to the stairs at the end of the hall and she wanted us to come get you."

Ok. I've dealt with weirder things than this. So I duck out of my room (thank god it was a generally well-behaved class) and jog down the hall, to find one of my beloved students handcuffed to the railing in the stairwell. And not by a police officer attempting to detain her. Just by some stupid friend who thought he was being funny. 

I stay calm. I ask her if she knows who has the key. She doesn't. I reassure her that I can get her "unstuck," or if not I'll call the custodian (and I try to push the image of him laughing and hanging up on me out of my mind). I make chatty conversation while I fiddle around with a bobby pin. And within ten seconds, I have picked the lock.  Ta-da!

But this is only the beginning of the awkward moment. When she and I get back to my classroom, my kids want to know how I became such an expert at picking handcuff locks. The looks they are giving me suggest they suspect I'm either an ex-con or a kinky sex freak. 

I change the subject. Back to class as usual. At least I have their attention.