Today I Saw a Gull
I didn't really see a gull. I'm expressing the feeling that land is nearby, and that land is a charming port called Summer Vacation. Where, unfortunately, I cannot live all the time. This is perhaps a good idea, as it can be a bit of a tourist trap, but I do love it so.
I worked late tonight (by the time I finish typing, make that "yesterday"), finally throwing away exams and referrals and all kinds of (face it) crap from four years ago. On the one hand, maybe I did just throw away an eBayed retirement in the form of a semester-end essay by a future hip hop star, but on the other hand, I've just been given almost two file cabinet's worth of stuff from the previous AP teacher.
I'm talking the kind that are three drawers high. Gulp! (And gratitude.)
Then midway through the tossing I came across a note from a counselor. The note was requesting an assignment a student had done. See, my first year on the job, I got someone expelled. (Well, obviously she got herself expelled, but you know what I mean.) Not enough time has passed to get into juicy details, but the gist is that she turned in something that dealt with her fantasies of doing harm to another student. There were illustrations. A few turns of the bureaucratic wheel later, and she was kicked out and confused. (I'm still confused... not saying it was completely wrong to expel her, but have you see the people they allow to stay?)
I have another expulsion-via-moi story for another time. That one involves terrorism! (Too cliche at the moment, obviously.)
Anyway, the student isn't who was on my mind. I saw the old note and realized it had been sent by our counselor who died last year. We weren't close, but I thought she had a kicky spirit, plus she was ninety-something. I'm not exaggerating; she was still slinging schedules, holding hands, proctoring tests, and making general magic while in her nineties. Nineties!
(I'd cry for her if she hadn't always seemed so happy.)
So of course I had to save that note. Then I had to start reading everything with a new eye, asking myself, "Yes, but would you keep it if that person was gone now?" And, great, now I just remembered that I threw out the Scantrons of some of my students who have died. Guess who's going to be digging in the recycling box before 1st period? Argh.
The whole de-cluttering was thus slowed down. I'm always so out-of-sorts whenever I realize that we don't actually have the past participle "slown." And speaking of that kind of stuff, I'm reading Cruise Confidential and there's this scene where the author, an educated person, is asked about a word by a foreign crewmate. Turns out the word is "shall." The American author wonders why his co-worker wants to know about a word so "old," from "Shakespeare's time." Jeezie-po-peezy, I can accept that "shan't" is hard to use without affectation, but "shall"?
Shall I give this book a good review? We'll see.
We started watching The Love Boat DVDs tonight, to get in the cruising spirit. In the first episode, everyone keeps accusing (Your Cruise Director) Julie McCoy of doing a constant Shirley Temple routine. Always so upbeat, etc. I didn't notice at all, but I remembered that this was always the funny thing about her, how she was so constantly chipper. And then I thought about how the kids say they've never seen me mad and how I'm always so positive (and yet, according to them, incredibly snarky?), and then I thought, "OMG - I'm Julie McCoy!" Being impossibly perky is (twitch-twitch-shudder) so normal to me now that I didn't even notice!
Wisdom from DUHHHHsville dictates that I should be more like Captain Stubing, but right now I'm too amused by the comparison with the Cruise Director. (This philosophy of education needs to be added to all textbooks, perhaps just after "student-centered-constructive-scaffolded-jigsawing-slapmeslapme.") Except Julie was never "sarcastique" (as every card sent during Teacher Appreciation Week from the French Club kids to me mentioned), so.... so, I guess I'll keep my (alleged) Dark Sarcasm in the Classroom on my side of the Venn Diagram, and Julie can keep her career-wrecking cocaine habit on hers.
If this blog were a village broadsheet, the criers would've been out-and-about on Tuesday to talk about how I finally came around to T9 texting. I tried it a few times in the past, but I didn't know how it worked, so I spent eight seconds being frustrated and went back to the old way. Then I tried it again, but I thought you had to cycle through your options to the correct one at each stage of the word, and that was driving me insane. (I was determined to spell out "determined," and it just kept flopping around!)
Then I tried it again this week and realized that you just type and it somehow works out. Usually. It does keep wanting to give me "cooties" when I try to spell "another." (Yes, I'm actually getting cooties.) For a long time I've had a little blog-rant on the mind's back burner about The Worst Words to Text, like "high," which until recently I would've texted as h (waitwait) i (waitwait) g (waitwait) h. But now that's embarrassing and obsolete. Thank you, T9!
And here I point at the camera just like Isaac (Your Bartender).
I worked late tonight (by the time I finish typing, make that "yesterday"), finally throwing away exams and referrals and all kinds of (face it) crap from four years ago. On the one hand, maybe I did just throw away an eBayed retirement in the form of a semester-end essay by a future hip hop star, but on the other hand, I've just been given almost two file cabinet's worth of stuff from the previous AP teacher.
I'm talking the kind that are three drawers high. Gulp! (And gratitude.)
Then midway through the tossing I came across a note from a counselor. The note was requesting an assignment a student had done. See, my first year on the job, I got someone expelled. (Well, obviously she got herself expelled, but you know what I mean.) Not enough time has passed to get into juicy details, but the gist is that she turned in something that dealt with her fantasies of doing harm to another student. There were illustrations. A few turns of the bureaucratic wheel later, and she was kicked out and confused. (I'm still confused... not saying it was completely wrong to expel her, but have you see the people they allow to stay?)
I have another expulsion-via-moi story for another time. That one involves terrorism! (Too cliche at the moment, obviously.)
Anyway, the student isn't who was on my mind. I saw the old note and realized it had been sent by our counselor who died last year. We weren't close, but I thought she had a kicky spirit, plus she was ninety-something. I'm not exaggerating; she was still slinging schedules, holding hands, proctoring tests, and making general magic while in her nineties. Nineties!
(I'd cry for her if she hadn't always seemed so happy.)
So of course I had to save that note. Then I had to start reading everything with a new eye, asking myself, "Yes, but would you keep it if that person was gone now?" And, great, now I just remembered that I threw out the Scantrons of some of my students who have died. Guess who's going to be digging in the recycling box before 1st period? Argh.
The whole de-cluttering was thus slowed down. I'm always so out-of-sorts whenever I realize that we don't actually have the past participle "slown." And speaking of that kind of stuff, I'm reading Cruise Confidential and there's this scene where the author, an educated person, is asked about a word by a foreign crewmate. Turns out the word is "shall." The American author wonders why his co-worker wants to know about a word so "old," from "Shakespeare's time." Jeezie-po-peezy, I can accept that "shan't" is hard to use without affectation, but "shall"?
Shall I give this book a good review? We'll see.
We started watching The Love Boat DVDs tonight, to get in the cruising spirit. In the first episode, everyone keeps accusing (Your Cruise Director) Julie McCoy of doing a constant Shirley Temple routine. Always so upbeat, etc. I didn't notice at all, but I remembered that this was always the funny thing about her, how she was so constantly chipper. And then I thought about how the kids say they've never seen me mad and how I'm always so positive (and yet, according to them, incredibly snarky?), and then I thought, "OMG - I'm Julie McCoy!" Being impossibly perky is (twitch-twitch-shudder) so normal to me now that I didn't even notice!
Wisdom from DUHHHHsville dictates that I should be more like Captain Stubing, but right now I'm too amused by the comparison with the Cruise Director. (This philosophy of education needs to be added to all textbooks, perhaps just after "student-centered-constructive-scaffolded-jigsawing-slapmeslapme.") Except Julie was never "sarcastique" (as every card sent during Teacher Appreciation Week from the French Club kids to me mentioned), so.... so, I guess I'll keep my (alleged) Dark Sarcasm in the Classroom on my side of the Venn Diagram, and Julie can keep her career-wrecking cocaine habit on hers.
If this blog were a village broadsheet, the criers would've been out-and-about on Tuesday to talk about how I finally came around to T9 texting. I tried it a few times in the past, but I didn't know how it worked, so I spent eight seconds being frustrated and went back to the old way. Then I tried it again, but I thought you had to cycle through your options to the correct one at each stage of the word, and that was driving me insane. (I was determined to spell out "determined," and it just kept flopping around!)
Then I tried it again this week and realized that you just type and it somehow works out. Usually. It does keep wanting to give me "cooties" when I try to spell "another." (Yes, I'm actually getting cooties.) For a long time I've had a little blog-rant on the mind's back burner about The Worst Words to Text, like "high," which until recently I would've texted as h (waitwait) i (waitwait) g (waitwait) h. But now that's embarrassing and obsolete. Thank you, T9!
And here I point at the camera just like Isaac (Your Bartender).
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