The following text transcription occured during a trip to, during, and returning from a field trip to an art museum.
Names have been changed to protect the innocent...and this blogger.
B: I wndr if leaving him w/o princpal knowing was best idea
D: Hmm, maybe, but it did happen right as we were lining up to leave. Ms. X heard him use the "F" word and then when she told me he took off sprinting down the hall and wouldn't stop. Sooo...hopefully it will be ok (that we left him).
10 minutes later
B: Y was Phoebe yellin at the window tellin a girl in shorts 2 put some more clothes on? Ms. Dazey Duke herself!
D: Haha
B: Y did Joey kick Ross off the seat w/ him and Rachel? And looks like Chandler is seriously tryin 2 mack on Monica and Daniel is singin his own lyrics 2 a beach boys tune.
D: Good grief...
20 minutes later
D: These kids are crazy and don't listen...Every single exhibit Peter asks a question someone else has already asked, Johnathan keeps trying to touch all the paintings and Annie just stroked a sculpture!
D: Also, James got really mad at me when he grabbed and tried to hold my hand and I said no (James is 12).
B: Girl I'm just glad tht this is over. We get 2 c wht it looks like whn kids aren't exposed 2 anything outside of tv and main event...
Not chronicled in the text messaging was the museum guide who kept grabbing students' arms when they tried to touch paintings and the little boy behind me who was making noises that rivaled Meg Ryan's performance during the lunch scene in "When Harry Met Sally."
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Monday, October 11, 2010
Fashion Wasteland
When someone says the words "professional dress" we may differ slightly in what comes to mind. What is professional in California is not in Texas. What is professional in the art field may not be in a courtroom.
In education, sometimes we ask students to define what something is not in order to give them a better understanding of what something is.
While what is professional seems to be open for debate, I would hope to think that what is not professional would be obvious.
A 55+ woman wearing a too-short, too-tight dress from the Juniors department in Target is not appropriate. I mean, come on, even I wouldn't wear the dress in question and the tweens who do at least throw on leggings under theirs.
Wrinkled, khaki capris are a blight that should be banned from the earth. Oh, wait, they don't wear them everywhere on the earth? So, just banned from the teaching profession? That's right, I forgot that teachers are the worst dressers ever. In other words, wrinkled capris are not appropriate.
Greasy hair? No makeup? Not appropriate.
A too-short hoodie with a cartoon character on the front is something no one should wear outside the privacy of their own home - or a taping of COPS.
Bras that offer no support or padding...this is another post entirely I assure you. Clearly, not appropriate.
Flip flops. Are. Not. Professional.
Not only are the people I work with (mostly) delusional about what is professional, they are completly out of the loop about fashion at all. In fact, it is a FASHION WASTELAND.*
I guess I wouldn't be so bitter about the whole thing if they would let me wear jeans. Nice, dark wash jeans with a nice button-down and high heels that are ten fold more professional than wrinkled khaki capris. But no, jeans are not "professional."
What am I getting at exactly? Well, I want to wear my nice jeans because they're cute and comfortable and practical for teaching elementary school. I want the discrepency corrected, because it doesn't make sense to get to wear flip flops but no nice denim. If those other teachers refuse to dress with any regard for themselves, then could they stop giving me weird looks for what I wear? At the very least, I want a slideshow presentation at the next faculty meeting with pictures of what is and is not acceptable.
Do you think they would let me snap pictures around campus for the slides? Can I force feed them episodes of What Not To Wear, The Hills, and The City? Can I get on DonorsChoose and get funding to buy supportive bras for the staff?
I mean, really.
*Fashion Wasteland: A place of work or community where no sense of style exists at all. There is no out-of-date or out-of-style, there is only absence of any remnant of style whatsoever. This place is in need of fashion coaches. I nominate Amber Weston.
In education, sometimes we ask students to define what something is not in order to give them a better understanding of what something is.
While what is professional seems to be open for debate, I would hope to think that what is not professional would be obvious.
A 55+ woman wearing a too-short, too-tight dress from the Juniors department in Target is not appropriate. I mean, come on, even I wouldn't wear the dress in question and the tweens who do at least throw on leggings under theirs.
Wrinkled, khaki capris are a blight that should be banned from the earth. Oh, wait, they don't wear them everywhere on the earth? So, just banned from the teaching profession? That's right, I forgot that teachers are the worst dressers ever. In other words, wrinkled capris are not appropriate.
Greasy hair? No makeup? Not appropriate.
A too-short hoodie with a cartoon character on the front is something no one should wear outside the privacy of their own home - or a taping of COPS.
Bras that offer no support or padding...this is another post entirely I assure you. Clearly, not appropriate.
Flip flops. Are. Not. Professional.
Not only are the people I work with (mostly) delusional about what is professional, they are completly out of the loop about fashion at all. In fact, it is a FASHION WASTELAND.*
I guess I wouldn't be so bitter about the whole thing if they would let me wear jeans. Nice, dark wash jeans with a nice button-down and high heels that are ten fold more professional than wrinkled khaki capris. But no, jeans are not "professional."
What am I getting at exactly? Well, I want to wear my nice jeans because they're cute and comfortable and practical for teaching elementary school. I want the discrepency corrected, because it doesn't make sense to get to wear flip flops but no nice denim. If those other teachers refuse to dress with any regard for themselves, then could they stop giving me weird looks for what I wear? At the very least, I want a slideshow presentation at the next faculty meeting with pictures of what is and is not acceptable.
Do you think they would let me snap pictures around campus for the slides? Can I force feed them episodes of What Not To Wear, The Hills, and The City? Can I get on DonorsChoose and get funding to buy supportive bras for the staff?
I mean, really.
*Fashion Wasteland: A place of work or community where no sense of style exists at all. There is no out-of-date or out-of-style, there is only absence of any remnant of style whatsoever. This place is in need of fashion coaches. I nominate Amber Weston.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
And Now, For Your Viewing Pleasure...
My partner teacher (math and science) gave the kids a word problem based on the Simpsons the other day. When they finished, she let them draw a picture of Lisa since the problem centered around her. As the two of us took our classes out to recess that day she could hardly contain her laughter as she scooted some of the kids along to play.
Pulling out her clipboard I could see a stack of manilla paper clipped neatly and couldn't understand what could possibly be so funny...of course, I hadn't seen "The Lisas" yet.
We laughed until we had tears streaming down our faces. I know it's bad, but really...we couldn't help it. Besides, if you can't laugh in education - you won't last long.
Pulling out her clipboard I could see a stack of manilla paper clipped neatly and couldn't understand what could possibly be so funny...of course, I hadn't seen "The Lisas" yet.
We laughed until we had tears streaming down our faces. I know it's bad, but really...we couldn't help it. Besides, if you can't laugh in education - you won't last long.
"Strapless Dress Doesn't Cover Everything It Should Lisa"
"Amputated Demonic Lisa"
"Miss Pac-Man Lisa"
"Half Naked Um....Um...Lisa"
"Big-Bird Lisa"
Monday, October 4, 2010
Monday Hug
More and more it seems people tell teachers not to lay hands on their students, don't pat them on the back, don't shake their hands, don't gently reassure them with a hand on the shoulder...and definitely, no hugs. I sometimes wonder if those teachers were ever really in the classroom and if so, did they love their students at all? Because sometimes, a hug is the only viable option.
My 4th graders took a post-assessment for their personal narrative unit today. An on-demand writing prompt and a set block of time with no, not even spelling, help from me.
Midway through, a small-for-his-age, sandy colored hair little brainiac came to my desk to tell me he didn't think he could write anymore. I smiled and told him that writer's block was normal and good writers have to think through things sometimes.
He shook his head and said, "No, Mrs. D, I really can't write anymore..."
Then he bursts into a heart-wrenching sob and hands me his paper, which I immediately read.
The prompt was to write about someone special to you and he chose his dad. He wrote that his dad is honorable and brave and fighting in Afghanistan. He also wrote that he hasn't seen him or heard from him in two years and that he is afraid he is dead.
I didn't know what to say, so I stood and pulled him into a hug; silently cursing those people who tell you with a jaded smirk never to touch a kid.
What do they know, anyhow?
My 4th graders took a post-assessment for their personal narrative unit today. An on-demand writing prompt and a set block of time with no, not even spelling, help from me.
Midway through, a small-for-his-age, sandy colored hair little brainiac came to my desk to tell me he didn't think he could write anymore. I smiled and told him that writer's block was normal and good writers have to think through things sometimes.
He shook his head and said, "No, Mrs. D, I really can't write anymore..."
Then he bursts into a heart-wrenching sob and hands me his paper, which I immediately read.
The prompt was to write about someone special to you and he chose his dad. He wrote that his dad is honorable and brave and fighting in Afghanistan. He also wrote that he hasn't seen him or heard from him in two years and that he is afraid he is dead.
I didn't know what to say, so I stood and pulled him into a hug; silently cursing those people who tell you with a jaded smirk never to touch a kid.
What do they know, anyhow?
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