Oh, Jo.....

 Last week in Creative Writing we watched Little Women.  The kids were testing in ELA class and I didn't want their brains to explode I wanted them to be fresh for testing.  So, movie days.  

I was pleased that the kids were outraged at the sexism shown towards the little women throughout the film.  There was general outrage when Jo was offered only a small amount of money for her stories, as well as the general push for women to stay home and get married.  But the highlight of the movie occurred towards the end when (spoiler alert) Jo turns down Laurie's marriage proposal and then changes her mind only to discover he has married her sister.  Jo then goes up to her room and begins burning her writing page by page.  One of the students gasped and then blurted out, "Really?  All because of a boy?"

My work here is done.

I'm Not A Math Teacher, But....

 Driveline leads to all sorts of bizarro conversations with students.  Usually I don't remember what led up to the moment, only the moment itself.  For example, last week we were talking about drawing shapes for some reason.  Or maybe it was something totally unrelated--I honestly don't remember.  All I know is that a student piped up with, "I know how to draw a circle.  Some circles have corners."

Pretty sure that's not true.

What Happens During Driveline...

We usually have around half an hour extra with our last block classes as we wait for kids to get picked up.  There's an eighth grader, who shall remain nameless, who often stops in my class on his way out the door and asks for candy.  I tell my seventh graders that I give him candy so he'll go away, but really I give him candy because he was virtual all last year and made us all laugh anyway.  Yesterday I found a gummy hotdog candy that I had bought a while ago and I wasn't sure how good it would be.  But I figured Candy Boy would appreciate it for its sheer bizarreness factor and would probably eat it anyway.  

As time passed, Candy Boy had yet to make his appearance.  I asked one of my students to go find him and have him come to the room because I had something for him.  The kid says, "What is it, a stun gun?"  I love that my students think that would be a legit thing I would have laying around.

Spoiler alert: Turned out Candy Boy had already left the building, so gummy hotdog will have to wait.

Keeping with the candy theme, a different student was eating Sour Patch Kids, which is cool since technically it's after school and if the kids are eating, they make less noise.  She very kindly gave me some, which was very nice of her.  She then was trying to put the rest of the bag in her backpack and was having problems finding room.  I offered to keep the bag for her, but she refused because she said she knew I would eat them all.  Another student asked, "Isn't eating Sour Patch Kids like bringing home extra kids?  You don't want that."

I replied, "No, I would eat them before I got in the car.  It's all good."

Then she said, "Isn't that cannibalism?"

Then their parents arrived, thankfully.

Clever Girl...

 I posted this meme on my social media platforms because it's true.

This sparked a series of...dare I say, threats from coworkers regarding MY parking space.  Coworkers who said they were going to park in MY spot.  One particular coworker, who we'll call Ms. Jym, even used a series of GIFs to try to intimidate me.

When Ms. Jym walked in to school the next morning, I was obligated to point out that she had not arrived early enough to park in MY spot.  Of course, this led to a series of verbal challenges and gloves coming off and all sorts of nonsense.  When I offered to settle the matter right then and there, she said, "I don't want to fight you.  You're like a T-Rex and I'm more like a velociraptor.  So if you catch me, I'm toast.  But I'm gonna nibble on you the whole time."

To be clear, there was no actual fighting in the hallway.  We actually kinda like each other.

Oh Magic Eight Ball....Reveal Your Secrets!

 I have a magic eight ball on my desk for reasons.  Mostly so I can watch the students try to figure out how it works--it's always good for a few laughs.  One of my classes was SUPER into it today though.  I realized that the boys were asking the eight ball questions about their love lives (or lack thereof).  One young squire came up and gave the eight ball a shake (thankfully he didn't ask his question out loud, because I don't want to know any details in this realm).  He must not have liked the response given because he put it back down on my desk, saying, "This is stupid.  The eight ball doesn't work."

A girl sitting near my desk overheard him and commented, "The eight ball only tells the truth.  Don't ask the eight ball questions if you can't handle the truth."

I felt like I was in an Aaron Sorkin movie.

Guess Who's Back...Back Again...

 It's been a long time.  *shakes fist at the virus*

But maybe now we need to get back to normal.  And normal is often funny when you teach seventh grade.

One of my jobs is to hold the wing door open in the morning so that the middle school kids can enter the building without cramming through the front door.  It's not bad right now, though I know it will be far less enjoyable once it rains or snows or is cold.  Which I'm sure won't happen in Michigan anytime soon.

Anyways, some of the eighth graders help to open car doors for the little kids during morning drop-off.  They have found that one way to amuse themselves while they work is to give directions to their eighth-grade friends.  Like, "So you're going to turn left and go through the door, then walk all the way down the hall until you see the nice lady teaching math."  Hysterical.  I'm certain their friends are appreciative.

Last week, one of my former students was playing this game with one of his friends.  As he saw me, he said, "Be careful--you don't want to look her directly in the eyes."  Apparently I traumatized the children more than I'd anticipated last year.

Today, a current student approached me and gave me a Mandalorian mask.  For reals!  Ah. Mazing.  So of course I put it on.  And of course I pointed into the hallway as students walked in, saying, "This is the way."  Which is REALLY funny, if you're a Star Wars fan.  Disappointingly, most kids didn't even flinch--even the sixth-graders who are unfamiliar with my randomness.  I mean, it's not every day that Mando welcomes you to middle school. 

So I guess the virus isn't ALL bad....oh wait.  Yes it is, but it was still funny.  And there's a lot more days left in the year.

Turn To Page 364

The back of my classroom is my own private domain.  I have my laptop, my desk, my toys. . . and piles of paper, if I’m being brutally honest.  On the first day of school, I impress upon the children that one does not simply enter my lair.  One must be invited. I understand the appeal—I have a lot of cool stuff.  I wouldn’t leave my lair at all if I didn’t have to, you know, teach my classes.

Today a student, clearly attracted by a shiny object of some sort, wandered into my lair while we were waiting for dismissal.  I could see that she wasn’t hurting anything, so I let her look at whatever she was looking at.  Another student saw her, gasped, and shouted, “GET OUT OF HER DUNGEON!”  

Apparently I am the potions professor at Hogwarts.