Second Week of April

Monday
Resolution Report: Wait, are we still doing that? Crap…

My students are constantly asking me if they can switch seats. No matter where I put them, they complain. In my largest class, there just aren’t enough seats to make them all happy. And in creating a seating chart, I have to consider so many things – which girls have to be separated, which boys won’t work next to which girls, which boy is constantly turning around in his seat, which students had conflict earlier this year and need to be across the room from each other, and which students are frequently absent and should therefore only sit in certain seats so as not to leave two chatty kids with no one between them... It's rather daunting.

Today in my last (and largest) class, a boy once again asked if he could switch seats. In a moment of frustration, I ended up using 7 minutes of class time to shuffle students. I could only shuffle about a third of the kids successfully while still maintaining good principles of classroom management (i.e., Zachary and Marco can’t sit next to each other, no matter how responsible Marco is or how much Zachary begs… ditto Bethanie and Kelsey). I finally reached a strange compromise that involved one boy sitting by himself at the back of the room, rather than in one of the rows of seats on the seating chart. I wasn’t thrilled with this, but felt quite strongly that we had temporarily reached seating chart equilibrium. (Seating Chart Equilibrium = (noun) state of classroom management when the number of noisy/easily distracted students is equal to or greater than the number of quiet students in a class – see “teacher, nervous breakdown”.)

The punch line of this story is that in all of my shuffling, I left two open desks at random places in the classroom. (I have 33 students and 35 desks.) Anyway, the original student, the boy who started the entire shuffle, looked at me with his whiniest expression and again said, “Can I move?” As the gears in my brain ground like an old stick-shift pick-up truck in the hands of a novice 15-year-old city girl, and I began to hear the imaginary sound of nails scraping on chalkboards inside my mind, all I could manage for the first few moments was to stare at him with no answer. The haze in my brain shifted and cleared for a moment, and I noticed an empty desk. I nodded at him and pointed him to the open desk, identifying it by the names of the students he would be sitting by. He picked up his binder and moved swiftly to his new desk as if I’d promoted him to the mythical homework-free zone. I realized before he did… As I started to smile, he relaxed and slouched down slightly in his seat. Then, he sat up abruptly and whirled to face me. I laughed as he sputtered and finally protested, “But Mrs. Chandler, this was where I started!”

I made him stay there.


Tuesday
We went for a walk in Grant Park this evening. We left our dogs at home, fortunately; I had no idea there was an off-leash dog area there. We walked around the high school and the tennis courts, skirting the track due to pee-wee baseball practice on the football field (no, you read that correctly). Past the tennis courts is the Beverly Cleary courtyard where the statues of Henry, Ribsy, and Ramona are surrounded by marble tiles listing all of her books and the years they were published. Being teachers and book lovers, we lingered, examining each tile and marveling at the whimsical statues.

When we wandered back to the walking path and around the playground, we discovered the off-leash dog park area. It has connecting trails that lead to 34th Street and 35th Street in the neighborhood north of the park, and there were several dogs running around. Their owners were lined up watching, chatting companionably, while the dogs chased tennis balls, sticks, cats, and each other. One particular dog caught our attention immediately – he was chasing a tennis ball and being chased by another dog of a similar breed. When he caught the tennis ball, he ran back toward his owner… but only as far as a large mud puddle at the edge of the main path. While the owner encouraged him to come back with the ball, the dog plopped cheerfully into the puddle and tossed the ball to the side. The owner got a little louder in calling the dog back, but the dog ignored him completely and proceeded to roll in the puddle. When the other dog got close to the tennis ball, he leaped up and grabbed it and then launched himself back into the puddle. It was hilarious, and the dog seemed so aware of what he was doing! When he finally ran back to his owner, the owner grabbed the tennis ball and threw it away from him as fast as he could. I don’t blame him; that dog was happily coated in mud.


Wednesday
I lost my voice. Ugh… I have a “Plan of Assistance” meeting at another middle school this afternoon, and I have to be able to talk. I’m supposed to get the principal to change significant portions of the plan before the teacher signs it. I don’t need this kind of stress, especially the day before the end of the quarter. At least my sub wore a tie… maybe the urchins won’t eat him alive.

*Evening update: The Plan of Assistance meeting went remarkably well, in spite of my sounding like a 12-year-old boy hitting puberty. The principal only made fun of my hoarse, cracking voice once. (It’s okay; I’ve known him a long time. He’s a good guy. Also, I think he felt sorry for me – he agreed to all of my proposed changes to the plan.)


Thursday
Today is the last day of the quarter… Don’t panic!
Yes, you can turn this in at the end of the day.
No, I will not accept that if you only did half of it.
No, you can’t do a book report on a book your teacher read to you in 5th grade.
Yes, I’ll be here tomorrow for the teacher work day, and yes, you can walk to school and turn in work tomorrow, even though it was due four weeks ago.
Yes, this is a final report card, not a progress report.
Yes, it will be mailed home.
Yes, I’m going to tell your mom that you’re planning to intercept the mail.
No, you cannot turn in work from October.
Yes, I believe you can do better next quarter.
Yes, you can stay in at lunch.
Of course you have homework this weekend.


Friday
Today is a workday, and while I do have to get my grades done, I’m also trying to finish and submit my final, colossal assignment for my graduate research class. My professor liked my final project, I aced the final, and as of tomorrow, I’m free for the next 6 weeks from all graduate work. All’s well that ends well, I suppose. I think a celebration is in order.


Weekend
Saturday was the end of my stupid class, so we decided to celebrate by having a late lunch on Sunday at one of our favorite restaurants at the beach. I drove over, and Mr. Chandler drove back. It was lovely. We visited our favorite gallery and walked on the beach and looked at some super cute beach cottages and arrived at the restaurant just after their lunch rush had left – perfect timing. We made it back to our house in time to have some backyard play time with the dogs while it was still daylight. As an added bonus, I don’t feel stressed about getting a good night sleep tonight because tomorrow is another workday. I’m thankful for peaceful days like this, especially when they happen in the school year.