Teaching Stories and Lizards

So, listen up, party people. Teaching is some hard ass shit. And today is National (What--they couldn't go global because all the other countries respect teachers everyday?) Teacher Appreciation Day. So in honor of that, and because the Chipotle bitches did buy one get one instead of free burritos because they know teachers can barely get out of the damn school, much less go two at a time anywhere or have enough time to coordinate an order, I'm gonna tell you some Teacher Stories. By the way, Blog Reader, in case you work for Chipotle and have any pull: give us the damn burrito, yo! We taught all of your Chipotle asses. What is this bogo half-assed crud? Sigh. Typical. Ready? For the stories? I know you are.

Lizards.

1) The other day, a kid barfed in my class. He raised his hand. I was busy. (Class has 32, in case you non-teachers didn't know. For you lawyer/MBA/engineer types that is 32 x 5 clients, all of them unwilling, unpaying, and as understanding of the Degree Of Difficulty of teaching as a fed-head is of coding.) But because I am a teacher I have eyes in the back of my head. In the front, too! So I called on him. "Ms. S," he said, "I just threw up." And then he did it some more. I shan't get into the details further, but we all left the room. Patient Zero went to the nurse, and another boy, affected by the whole scene, barfed in my trash can on the way out. I sent him to the nurse, and we went to the media center, where the librarians welcomed us as if we were royalty, instead of puke-escapees, in that way librarians do. So I taught my class there. Then, at about 2:20, Patient One RETURNED FROM THE NURSE!!! Wtf? It was Friday at 2:20, 7th period, 20 minutes to dismissal. And she sent him back?????? What for? To contaminate the rest of us? I was furious. I was all like, "oh, no she didn't!" with three snaps in a z-formation and everything. So I said to Patient One (who was not to blame), "just sit over there, and try to be very still." Then I stomped around fuming. My students didn't know what had become of me. It was a lucky thing I couldn't leave my class because if I could have I would have gone straight to the health room and told that nurse what for. The end.

There are  flying fishies, too! Top left on fan blade. 

2) Kids in sixth and seventh grades love to pass out papers. Or anything really. They don't grow out of it, even. I taught high school seniors, and it was just the same. You could say to them, "Would anyone like to eat this chalkboard eraser?" and their hands would shoot up, and they'd go "me, me!" and they'd eat it so fast they'd bite your hand. I don't get it. I used to think it was because they liked me. Ha. Then for awhile I thought it was because it meant they could Get Up From Their Chairs. Surprisingly: no! I realized that this wasn't it when I asked someone to alphabetize something without getting up. Still just as into it! I wish I could bring my laundry pile to school with me. The end.

3) Here is how you proctor a test. Get 32 kids in a room and make them give up their electronics, books, jackets, etc. Since there is no place to put these things and you can't let them out of the room to go to their lockers because of The Security Of The Test, have them shove it all in a heap on the floor at the front of the room. Pass out test. Read instrux. Walk the room for 16.9 hours while children take test. Don't let anybody out of their chairs except in an emergency. (By now you have noticed we teachers are all obsessed with the kids staying in their chairs.) Don't let anybody talk. Don't yell or punish anybody; just whisper so you don't distract the test takers. And did we mention don't let any of the 32 11-year-olds out of their chairs or speak? Without yelling or threats or violence (since illegal)? Oh, and while you're at it: fix global warming, win the lottery, and end poverty. But, whatever you do, don't grade anything, don't read anything, and for god's sake don't touch that computer because you must put your full attention on circulating the room and staring at the students to ensure The Security Of The Test. Can't they get a guard dog to do this? They'd be much better at it. The end.

Lizard on Mame 

4) My son has these lizards he throws at the ceiling. They stick up there. (Okay, I cheated. This is not a teaching story.) Today, he made me get them down. Then, of course, he threw them back up there. One missed and landed on my Mame poster. This is obviously just an excuse to show off my Angela Lansbury memorabilia. Try not to be too jealous. Meanwhile, he didn't get into any of the immersion kindergartens we applied to. (Not because he isn't a genius. It's a lottery, and we are unlucky.) Anyway, he throws lizards. We worry about kindergarten/college, his mind, his imprint on humanity, his whole self. Getting a lizard off the ceiling is easy. Doable. More lizards, please.