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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.

Iceberg! Dead Ahead!

This week my classes have been reading an excerpt from Exploring the Titanic by Robert Ballard.  At this point we are far enough removed from the James Cameron movie Titanic that I only have occasional questions about why Jack didn't get on the raft at the end and other historical discrepancies.  Praise be.

We spend some quality time discussing how the ship was constructed, being as that's hugely relevant to why it sank so quickly.  I put my incredible artistic skills to good use by sketching the ship complete with watertight compartments and four funnels.  When the ship grazed the iceberg, it popped off the rivets in five of the front compartments, which basically doomed the ship.  I cleverly indicated where the gash was with my red marker... I'm always thinking.  Once the front compartments filled with water and the bow began to sink, it was only a matter of time before the water overflowed into the next compartment, and so on.  History comes alive in my drawing. 

Because my drawing was so incredible, I didn't erase it before the end of class.  We packed up and headed out to the curb for pick-up.  When I returned to my room, I noticed that someone had added what is perhaps the biggest understatement in all of recorded maritime history:

You're not wrong, kid.

In Which I Survive to Teach Another Day...

First day of school blog post!  Always a good omen.

I was playing every teachers' favorite game today, that being "Taking Roll and Mispronouncing Names."  Best.  Game.  Ever.   I came to a child who we shall call William. 

"William,"  said I, "what would you like me to call you?"

Can you see where I went wrong?  What I meant was, would you like to be Will or William?  Totally legitimate question.  But, in fairness, that is not the question I asked.

Without even the slightest hesitation, William answered, "Danny DeVito."

And now I have Danny DeVito in my second block class.  FOR THE WIN.

It's the End of the Year As We Know It....

The bad thing about having a student teacher is that far fewer amusing things happen when you aren't teaching.  Sorry 'bout that.

Buuuut now I'm back, and the last weeks of school are always good blog post fodder.  After a full year of harassing seventh graders  training young minds, I have molded at least two of the children in my own image.  Consider:

1.  A child was walking down the hall at the end of the day with cupcakes.  I demanded to know why I had not also been given cupcakes.  Without missing a beat, he replied, "Cupcakes are for winners."  The same child brought in a container of cake sprinkles the next day to torment me, shaking it at random intervals to remind me that indeed, only winners have sprinkles (see Sprinkles Are For Winners! for more details). 

2.  I was tormenting my last block class by eating pretzel sticks in front of them, as one does.  I started to feel a little badly about it, so I gave each kid two pretzel sticks.  The small ones.  Upon receiving his magnanimous gift, a student told me, "I like two more things about you now than I did before."

I don't know whether to laugh or cry.  Go forth and spread chaos, younglings!