Sunday, February 17, 2019
You'd think, as I'm about to finish my seventh year at this school, that when bad things happen I'd put it in the category of been there, done that, and move on. Well, bad things happened at the start of the school week and I thought to myself, so many of the scholars that I've worked with in the SpecEd classroom came from hard places and will they ever escape those hard places.
On Monday morning, after being in the school for only a few minutes, I was told that Tourette was missing. As I understand it, something happened at his parental unit's home that caused him to run out of the house. The running out of his parental unit's house is not something that is new to me as this was not the first time that it happened. What is new to me is the fact that he never returned when it started to get dark. Rather than returning at dark he went missing for almost thirty hours. The family couldn't find him. The school couldn't find him. He's eleven, whereabouts unknown, it's in the middle of winter, and no one has a clue as to his location.
It's now Tuesday morning. As I normally due, I cut through the administrative offices on my way to the elevator. At best I will say good morning to the people in the office area and go about my business but not today as I was heading to a specific office to ask the OH person about Tourette. OH was in her office and all I said was, "did they find him?" The response was, "yes."
I've shared a classroom with Tourette for three years and with the "yes" response I relaxed and continued on my way to the classroom. When I exited the elevator on the second floor I normally turn to the right. Today, I turned left looking for FBG, our behavior specialist. FBG was in his office so I asked him about Tourette and his whereabouts. According to FBG his whereabout remains an unknown and here is where is gets real interesting. FBG told me that Tourette was driven back to his parental unit's home, dropped off at the curb, and then the car drove off. Who brought Tourette back to his parental unit's home is an unknown. So, while Tourette is safe, there are now more questions than answers and the school may never know what happened.
I believe this happened on Tuesday of this past week. I was in the office area when I came across FBG so I stopped to talk to him. He told me he was just outside the school chasing down Uh-Uh-Uh who ran out of the building. This took me by surprise as all indications were that Uh-Uh-Uh was having a real successful school year so I asked him what happened. FBG responded, her parental unit was arrested and charged with domestic violence, she was upset, and she just took off. I stood there shaking my head. I spent three years with Uh-Uh-Uh in the classroom and I've known her for five years and all I can of think is, "why is this happening to this young scholar who has shown so much improvement this school year." Why? Just like Tourette, she comes from a hard place. She is the product of P.P.P (piss poor parenting) and she is stuck in this hard place until she reaches the age when she can live independently.
By the end of the week things returned to normal, or as close to normal as you can get, for Tourette and Uh-Uh-Uh, as they both finished the week without further incident. I'm guardedly optimistic that what happened this past week is over and everyone can move on. Despite my guarded optimism I know that both of these scholars come from hard places and it's just a matter of time before that hard place jumps up and grabs them again.
Here is an update of the hand signal scholars from the T5 classroom that I wrote about last week. The consequences for these scholars, who created vulgar, bordering on obscene hand signals, that they secretly directed at their teacher, were given an in-school suspension. An in-school suspension is not even a slap on the wrist. It's nothing more that a tap on the wrist and further evidence that consequences for inappropriate behavior are a thing of the past.
In the midst of all of the events that occurred early last week I did get started on the show growth in math scores challenge that T4 assigned to me. To start with I have four of T4's scholars. Three are T4-F's and one is a T4-M. Their first challenge is for each of them to complete seventy-two math problems. Thirty-six are multiplication and thirty-six are division and they have six minutes to answer all of the problems correctly. Here are the numbers they are working with; zero, one, two, five, nine, and ten. My immediate task was to get them to multiply by nine as they were all weak with this number. My confidence level was high with nines as many years ago I was shown, by a close friend of mine in my original career, how to use your hands to multiple by nine. We started on Monday with hand multiplication and by Wednesday they could multiply by nine. One of the T4-F's was so excited that she could multiply by nine she went home that evening and showed her parental unit how to multiple by nine. The next day this T4-F had so much excitement in her facial expression when she told me that she showed her parental unit how to multiply by nine is one of the many reasons why I keep doing what I do.
Note: if you are not familiar with multiplying by nine using your hands just do a YouTube search.
Comfortable that they can multiply by nine I move on to the next obstacle, division. Unfortunately, division for these scholars was like trying to learn a foreign language. The first division problem on the timed test worksheet is four divided by two. Here are some of the wrong answers that I saw; eight, as they multiplied four times two, six, as they added four plus two, and sometimes I saw a number that made absolutely no sense at all.
I started doing division with T4-M as he was easily completing the first thirty-six multiplication problems. I caught a bit of a break right away when T4-M told me that division just didn't make any sense to him. I watched T4 teach a lesson on division so I knew I had some options on how to proceed. The option that I chose, mainly because it didn't require making a lot of dots and then circling them in groups, was to turn the problem from a division problem to a multiplication problem.
I started with 4/2=? and then asked T4-M this question. 2 x ? = 4? He hesitated for a few seconds and then said 2. I then went back to the division problem and asked him what 4/2 equaled and I showed him the two fingers from the multiplication problem. I then did the next six problems using the same process with T4-M and then the light went on. It took a couple more tries but T4-M correctly answered all of the first seventy-two problems and he has moved on to the next level.
One a lighter note when it comes to math and showing progress is this story. It's a bit of a visual so bear with me. Here are the four combination multiplication and division tests that the scholars need to pass to become a magic multiplier.
Test A - zero, one, two, five, nine, and ten. The three T4-F's are here.
Test B - zero, one, two, three, four, five, nine, and ten. T4-M is here and soon will go on to C.
Test C - zero, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, and ten.
Test D - all of the above.
When you pass D you earn a Magic Multiplier Certificate and then get to dance on the hexagon to celebrate your achievement.
I can't remember what day it was but T4-M asked me what numbers were on Test C so I showed it to him. The T4-F's then asked me what numbers were on Test B so I showed it to them. One of the T4-F's looked at the addition of the threes and fours on Test B and calmly said, "I'm pretty good with those numbers." She then asked me to show her what numbers were on Test C. I took out my pencil, circled six, seven, and eight and then showed her Test C. So you know, T4-F is sitting right next to me. We are about two feet apart when I showed her Test C. In order to see Test C more clearly T4-F moved even closer to me, our heads are about a foot apart, and when she saw the circled six, seven, and eight the first word out of her mouth was "shit."
I started laughing. Yes, totally inappropriate but I couldn't help it. Immediately, the other T4's in the group collectively said, "Mr. Schultz, she just said..." "Stop," I said, "I know what she said. It was an accident so there is no reason to repeat the word." I just did the right thing by stopping them from repeating the word but I was still laughing. With me laughing the next thing you know, all the scholars were laughing. Finally, when everything settle down we got back to work.
I plead guilty. The consequences for saying, "shit" practically right in my ear, none. Is that right, no. You know what, I'm in charge, it's my decision, my consequences for the wrong decision but I also know this. These four scholars want to learn and they are working hard. They're willing gave up time from P.E. to learn how to multiply and divide. They're willing to gave up outdoor recess time to learn how to multiply and divide. If they are willing to work hard and make some sacrifices to learn then I believe they are entitled to one free "shit."
That's my story and I'm sticking to it. See you next week.
Sunday, February 17, 2019
Sunday, February 10, 2019
The Catcher Flashed Two Fingers - Curveball
Sunday, February 10, 2019
Let's talk some baseball. I've played my fair share of games in my younger days. Numerous games on the athletic fields of St. Hyacinth's parish. Numerous games of fast pitch (or strike out depending on what neighborhood you lived in) against the boiler room brick wall at St. Hyacinth's Elementary School. Numerous games of fast pitch against the concrete block wall on the storage building behind Ollie's Meat Market. Three years of Little League baseball (pitcher and third base). Two years of Pony League baseball (outfield and occasionally pitcher). Several years of fast pitch softball (mainly catcher and occasionally outfield).
It's my years of catching fast pitch softball that is of most importance at this time. As a catcher you know about flashing hand signals to your pitcher. In this particular game, Dick Bauer was pitching and I was catching. To this day I will insist that I flashed one finger to Dick, drop ball. For those of you not familiar with fast pitch softball, if thrown correctly by the pitcher, a drop ball will break in a downward motion as it approaches the batter. Knowing, with one hundred percent certainty, that I called for a drop ball, I adjusted my catching position for the pitch I called for. Dick wound up, released the ball, and I knew immediately that he was throwing a rise ball (two fingers) and not a drop ball (one finger). I quickly made my adjustment to catch the pitch but not exactly the way that I should have with the ball coming in so fast. My glove hand is up and so is my bare hand. My glove hand missed the ball. May bare hand didn't.
The ball got passed me, I ran to the backstop to retrieve it, called time out, and headed to the pitchers mound. When I got to the pitchers mound Dick and I discussed what pitch I called for and then I handed to ball back to him. When I looked at the ball there was blood on it. Mine, as the ball hit may bare hand so hard and so fast that it split open the first joint of my ring finger on my right hand and I'm off to the emergency room for four stitches. As you can see, a failure to communicate between the pitcher and catcher, can result in bad things happening. Sadly, three young scholars from a T5 classroom found out what happens when they communicated between themselves while flashing hand signals, bad things happen.
It's Friday, lunch time, and I'm sitting at the hexagon with T4, OtherT4, and an Overhead (OH) person eating my eight inch, hand tossed, sausage and onion pizza, when a conversation started. Sadly, as I was stuffing my face, I'm missed the start of the conversation but this much I know. T4 placed her right hand on her chest, flashed a hand signal, and then stated what the hand signal meant. When she finished I said to her, "you've got be kidding, the hand signal stood for what." She repeated what the hand signal meant and then said that three T5-M's came up with the hand signal and used it in the classroom when the right occasion arose.
Now you have to visualize what is going on in the T5 classroom. One of the three T5-M's is acting in an inappropriate manner and is seen by T5. T5 corrects the young scholar and then turns to continue the lesson. With T5's focused elsewhere the T5-M flashes a hand signal to his two T5-M friends and they all have a good silent laugh. After developing the hand signal the three T5-M's failed in a huge way as they told someone outside their immediate group. Then someone told someone else who told someone else and the next thing you know someone tells a teacher.
Alright, back to the hexagon and my pizza. While we were enjoying our lunch a parental unit stepped into the classroom. I didn't recognize the parental unit but T4 did and promptly got up to greet this person. When their conversation started it didn't take for me long to realize the T4 was speaking to a parental unit of one of the T5-M's about their no longer secret hand signals. Unfortunately the conversation that T4 was having with the parental unit moved out into the hallway and out of hearing distance. The part that I missed and I'd love to know how T4 did it, was to tell the parental unit what the hand signals meant because what they meant was disrespectful, vulgar, and bordering on obscene. Unfortunately for all of you I don't know what the consequences were for these three T5-M scholars as I finished my lunch and left before T4 returned to the classroom. If I find out next week I'll let you know. By the way, we are not talking about extending the middle finger as I've seen that happen so many times I just laugh at the scholar that directed it at me.
Here is an update on that Littlefella that brought in that clear, plastic, zip lock, sandwich bag into school last week. I finally had a chance to speak to T2 about the incident. T2 told me two things. First, when the Littlefella realized that he was in trouble he said that someone on the playground game him that plastic bag. Amazing, a T2 level scholar and he is already well versed in coming up with ways to get out of trouble. The second thing that T2 told me was that the scholar has not been in the classroom all week and she was not sure what happened to him. Missing in action for a week. Let's see, suspended, expelled, parental units changed schools. Maybe I'll find out next week what happened to the Littlefella.
"Schultz, I have something for you to look at." "Ok, what is it?" It's on my laptop so have a seat at my desk while I get the day started." I'm now sitting at the second T4 throne. The second throne is much nicer than the other one as it has a leather seat to sit on. Leather? Probably vinyl but it is still more comfortable than the other throne. On the laptop screen was two columns of names. The first column contained all of T4's scholars and the other column contained all of OtherT4's scholars. I eventually realized that I was looking at Northwest Evaluation Association (NWEA) math test scores.
As I was looking at the math scores the first thing I discovered was that green is good and red is bad. Looking at T4's scholars I saw four green and sixteen red. I then looked at the second column, OtherT4's scholars, and I saw two green and eighteen red. Six green, a passing scored and thirty-four red, a failing score and the reality of the challenge that T4 faces just hit me right between the eyes.
"T4, how are we going to get these thirty-four scholars moved into the green zone?" "Schultz, green is the ultimate objective but for now we just need to do what we can do to get all thirty-four to show improvement over their previous test score." "How are we going to do that?" I asked. T4 walked over to me and handed me a two inch square, pink Post It Note. On it were four names, all her scholars, and she said to me, "you start with these." When I looked at the names I immediately recognize them and the fact that all four were in or near the bottom quartile for math.
Once again, I don't need to do what I do, I choose to do what I do and here is why. I don't have a teaching degree and I don't have a teaching license. Despite my lack of credentials T4 just handed this old, gray haired, wrinkly face guy, sometimes known as just Schultz, sometimes known as Old Man, sometimes known as Papa, a task. When I thought about the task I was just handed it made me feel pretty good because a math teacher just sent me a message that said that what I do in her classroom matters. I'm not sure of the time frame that I have to work with but I'll tell you what, I'll bust my butt to get these four scholars into a position to raise their scores and I'll do it for one reason. I matter.
With that said, thanks for following along and God willing and the creek don't rise I'll see you next week.
Alright, back to the hexagon and my pizza. While we were enjoying our lunch a parental unit stepped into the classroom. I didn't recognize the parental unit but T4 did and promptly got up to greet this person. When their conversation started it didn't take for me long to realize the T4 was speaking to a parental unit of one of the T5-M's about their no longer secret hand signals. Unfortunately the conversation that T4 was having with the parental unit moved out into the hallway and out of hearing distance. The part that I missed and I'd love to know how T4 did it, was to tell the parental unit what the hand signals meant because what they meant was disrespectful, vulgar, and bordering on obscene. Unfortunately for all of you I don't know what the consequences were for these three T5-M scholars as I finished my lunch and left before T4 returned to the classroom. If I find out next week I'll let you know. By the way, we are not talking about extending the middle finger as I've seen that happen so many times I just laugh at the scholar that directed it at me.
Here is an update on that Littlefella that brought in that clear, plastic, zip lock, sandwich bag into school last week. I finally had a chance to speak to T2 about the incident. T2 told me two things. First, when the Littlefella realized that he was in trouble he said that someone on the playground game him that plastic bag. Amazing, a T2 level scholar and he is already well versed in coming up with ways to get out of trouble. The second thing that T2 told me was that the scholar has not been in the classroom all week and she was not sure what happened to him. Missing in action for a week. Let's see, suspended, expelled, parental units changed schools. Maybe I'll find out next week what happened to the Littlefella.
"Schultz, I have something for you to look at." "Ok, what is it?" It's on my laptop so have a seat at my desk while I get the day started." I'm now sitting at the second T4 throne. The second throne is much nicer than the other one as it has a leather seat to sit on. Leather? Probably vinyl but it is still more comfortable than the other throne. On the laptop screen was two columns of names. The first column contained all of T4's scholars and the other column contained all of OtherT4's scholars. I eventually realized that I was looking at Northwest Evaluation Association (NWEA) math test scores.
As I was looking at the math scores the first thing I discovered was that green is good and red is bad. Looking at T4's scholars I saw four green and sixteen red. I then looked at the second column, OtherT4's scholars, and I saw two green and eighteen red. Six green, a passing scored and thirty-four red, a failing score and the reality of the challenge that T4 faces just hit me right between the eyes.
"T4, how are we going to get these thirty-four scholars moved into the green zone?" "Schultz, green is the ultimate objective but for now we just need to do what we can do to get all thirty-four to show improvement over their previous test score." "How are we going to do that?" I asked. T4 walked over to me and handed me a two inch square, pink Post It Note. On it were four names, all her scholars, and she said to me, "you start with these." When I looked at the names I immediately recognize them and the fact that all four were in or near the bottom quartile for math.
Once again, I don't need to do what I do, I choose to do what I do and here is why. I don't have a teaching degree and I don't have a teaching license. Despite my lack of credentials T4 just handed this old, gray haired, wrinkly face guy, sometimes known as just Schultz, sometimes known as Old Man, sometimes known as Papa, a task. When I thought about the task I was just handed it made me feel pretty good because a math teacher just sent me a message that said that what I do in her classroom matters. I'm not sure of the time frame that I have to work with but I'll tell you what, I'll bust my butt to get these four scholars into a position to raise their scores and I'll do it for one reason. I matter.
With that said, thanks for following along and God willing and the creek don't rise I'll see you next week.
Sunday, February 3, 2019
A Gift With Words
Sunday, February 3, 2019
What a waste of a week. Wednesday, an outside temperature hovering around -7 degrees with an anticipated high temperature that would be below zero, no school. Thursday, an outside temperature hovering around -4 degrees, two hour delay. Friday, an outside temperature at 18 degrees, twenty-five degrees higher than Wednesday and a two hour delay. Why the delay? Snow, 1.6 inches of the white death fell to the ground over night. Academic time lost for the week, approximately ten hours and the bane of every teacher is rapidly approaching, the state mandated ILEARN test.
Switching to one of those hoity-toity private schools. Wednesday, an outside temperature of -7 degrees and their BigB states, "we will have school all day, no cancellations, no delays." Thursday, an outside temperature of -4 degrees and again the BigB speaks, "we will have school all day, no cancellations, no delays." Friday, outside temperature 18 degrees but 1.6 inches of snow fell on the ground and the BigB declares, "two hour delay." The polar vortex brought down death causing cold temperatures and the school was open. The white death, total accumulation of 1.6 inches, fell on the ground, "two hour delay." Go figure.
I had two ideas for the title of this blog post, Toughen Up Buttercup and A Gift With Words. As you can see I chose the later one but Toughen Up Buttercup would have been appropriate for these two reasons. Last week a teacher quit quite abruptly after a fine young scholar chose to direct a vulgar slang expressing in her direction that included the word ass. A couple days later, as I was leaving for the day, I noticed one of our Overhead Personnel (OP) sitting at the rectangular table opposite the hallway from my half-round table. With no pressing needs at home I decided to sit down with the OP for a chat. My immediate comment to OP was regarding the loss of T5 over the word ass after less than three weeks from her hire date. OP looked at me and said, paraphrasing, "T5 quit because of the word ass. There have been a number of teachers called names that are a lot worse than ass and they are still here." We both had a good laugh and then I got up and headed home. You just read reason number one when it comes to Toughen Up Buttercup.
Here is the second reason for Toughen Up Buttercup. We have a millennial teaching just down the hallway from T4's classroom. This is a newly hired teacher, just graduated, and let the truth be known, I like this person. This millennial has been a teacher an entire two and a half weeks when this texting conversation took place. "Five f...ing referrals, three injury reports and a classroom that was destroyed. This is the profession I chose to spend the rest of my life in." Dear Millennial, with a whopping two and a half weeks of occupying the front of a classroom under your belt, Toughen Up Buttercup and welcome to the teaching profession.
Once again I have to remind everyone that I don't make this stuff up. My day is over. As I was exiting the school I decided to walk through the main office area. When I was a couple steps inside the back door to the office I saw a first floor LittleFella standing in the hallway crying. I recognized LittleFella as he has issues and has spent a fair amount of time in the office. As I continued on my way down the hallway FBG turned the corner and was walking towards me. When he approached me he asked me to turn around so I did. We only took a couple steps when he stopped me, pulled out his cellphone, and showed me a picture. When I looked at the picture I wasn't sure what I was looking at so FBG took two fingers, placed them on the screen, flicked them apart, and now I have an enlarged picture to look at. Sitting right in the center of the picture was an opened, small, clear plastic, zip lock sandwich bag, and inside the sandwich bag was.....
For the record, I gave the exact same description of the picture that FBG showed me to my part time editor, part time consultant, and full time spouse and she immediately described what was in the zip lock sandwich bag. If you can't figure it out text me or contact me via other electronic media and I'll fill you in.
When I finished looking at the picture I turned toward FBG and said, "you've got to be kidding me. You took this from that LittleFella." FBG nodded his head, I gave a little chuckle, and headed down the hallway thinking to myself. "If LittleFella wanted to bring something to school it was better that it was weed and not a hand gun."
"I hate getting old." I'm sitting here at my kitchen table and I'm in the midst of a senior moment. "Oh my God, when did this event start," I was thinking to myself. Let's see, today is Friday, I gave the document back to her on Thursday, there was no school on Wednesday, so this started on Tuesday. Damn! That just doesn't sound right and I hate when this happens. Well, quoting Emily Litella (aka Gilda Radner), from Saturday Night Live back when the show was actually funny, "never mind." Let's just forget what day it was and I'll continue with the story.
"Schultz, I need you to read something for me." "Okay, what is it?" "It's a grant application form. I'm trying to convince this organization to support Camp Opp by providing some financial assistance." "Are you sure you want me to read this as I don't have any experience with writing grants." "Yes, I hate doing it. There are too many questions, they want too much information, and the entire process just stresses me out. Besides, you have a gift with words." "Alright, hand me the grant form." It took about ten seconds to realize how much information was needed. There were multiple pages and I believe fifteen questions that needed to be answered. "T4, this grant requires a lot of information. If you don't mind, I'll take it home where I can read it uninterrupted." "Yes, please do that."
When I got home I ate my lunch and then pulled out the grant form and started reading. I need to be very cautious now so as not to ruffle anyone's feathers. As I was reading what was written I came across some wording, be careful now, don't ruffle any feathers, that needed to be...…. adjusted. Adjusted, yeah, that sounds safe enough. Knowing that adjustments were needed I wasn't sure if I could write on the grant form so I sent a text message to T4 for clarification. T4 responded, "yes," and I read on. For about two hours prior to my evening meal and then another hour and a half after my evening meal I went through all fifteen questions and I made some notes, actually a lot of notes, on the grant form. There were so many notes that I was a bit hesitant to return the grant form to T4. The next morning, not wanting to be placed in the category of Toughen Up Buttercup, I manned up, walked into the classroom, returned the grant form to T4 and, for the record, I remained upright and on my feet.
The dates for the next fourth grade camping experience has been set. This three day, two night adventure will take place the last week of May. Pre-camp instructions have been prepared for each of the fifty or so scholars that will be attending. Included in these instructions are the camp dates, forms that need to be completed, permission slips that needs to be signed by the parental unit, a list of frequently asked questions has been prepared, a list of items to bring to camp has been prepared, tee-shirts have been ordered, and I'm sure if T4 was sitting right next to me she could add to this list.
Time is moving quickly and there is one significant hurdle that needs to be jumped over, funding. Below, you will find the link to Camp OPP. Please consider giving a donation to Camp OPP to send these scholars to camp. As I'm sure you've heard, when it comes to requests for financial support, no amount is too small. T4 and the other fourth teachers work with several scholars that come from hard places so any financial support you can provide will be greatly appreciated.
Here is the link to Camp Opp - www.oppcamp.org Click on the link and it will take you to the Camp OPP homepage. In the upper left hand corner you will see a white box with three bars inside it. Click on the white box, the screen will change, then scroll down and click on donate to the fall campaign.
Thanks for following along and if the good Lord is willing and the creek don't rise I'll be back next week.
What a waste of a week. Wednesday, an outside temperature hovering around -7 degrees with an anticipated high temperature that would be below zero, no school. Thursday, an outside temperature hovering around -4 degrees, two hour delay. Friday, an outside temperature at 18 degrees, twenty-five degrees higher than Wednesday and a two hour delay. Why the delay? Snow, 1.6 inches of the white death fell to the ground over night. Academic time lost for the week, approximately ten hours and the bane of every teacher is rapidly approaching, the state mandated ILEARN test.
Switching to one of those hoity-toity private schools. Wednesday, an outside temperature of -7 degrees and their BigB states, "we will have school all day, no cancellations, no delays." Thursday, an outside temperature of -4 degrees and again the BigB speaks, "we will have school all day, no cancellations, no delays." Friday, outside temperature 18 degrees but 1.6 inches of snow fell on the ground and the BigB declares, "two hour delay." The polar vortex brought down death causing cold temperatures and the school was open. The white death, total accumulation of 1.6 inches, fell on the ground, "two hour delay." Go figure.
I had two ideas for the title of this blog post, Toughen Up Buttercup and A Gift With Words. As you can see I chose the later one but Toughen Up Buttercup would have been appropriate for these two reasons. Last week a teacher quit quite abruptly after a fine young scholar chose to direct a vulgar slang expressing in her direction that included the word ass. A couple days later, as I was leaving for the day, I noticed one of our Overhead Personnel (OP) sitting at the rectangular table opposite the hallway from my half-round table. With no pressing needs at home I decided to sit down with the OP for a chat. My immediate comment to OP was regarding the loss of T5 over the word ass after less than three weeks from her hire date. OP looked at me and said, paraphrasing, "T5 quit because of the word ass. There have been a number of teachers called names that are a lot worse than ass and they are still here." We both had a good laugh and then I got up and headed home. You just read reason number one when it comes to Toughen Up Buttercup.
Here is the second reason for Toughen Up Buttercup. We have a millennial teaching just down the hallway from T4's classroom. This is a newly hired teacher, just graduated, and let the truth be known, I like this person. This millennial has been a teacher an entire two and a half weeks when this texting conversation took place. "Five f...ing referrals, three injury reports and a classroom that was destroyed. This is the profession I chose to spend the rest of my life in." Dear Millennial, with a whopping two and a half weeks of occupying the front of a classroom under your belt, Toughen Up Buttercup and welcome to the teaching profession.
Once again I have to remind everyone that I don't make this stuff up. My day is over. As I was exiting the school I decided to walk through the main office area. When I was a couple steps inside the back door to the office I saw a first floor LittleFella standing in the hallway crying. I recognized LittleFella as he has issues and has spent a fair amount of time in the office. As I continued on my way down the hallway FBG turned the corner and was walking towards me. When he approached me he asked me to turn around so I did. We only took a couple steps when he stopped me, pulled out his cellphone, and showed me a picture. When I looked at the picture I wasn't sure what I was looking at so FBG took two fingers, placed them on the screen, flicked them apart, and now I have an enlarged picture to look at. Sitting right in the center of the picture was an opened, small, clear plastic, zip lock sandwich bag, and inside the sandwich bag was.....
For the record, I gave the exact same description of the picture that FBG showed me to my part time editor, part time consultant, and full time spouse and she immediately described what was in the zip lock sandwich bag. If you can't figure it out text me or contact me via other electronic media and I'll fill you in.
When I finished looking at the picture I turned toward FBG and said, "you've got to be kidding me. You took this from that LittleFella." FBG nodded his head, I gave a little chuckle, and headed down the hallway thinking to myself. "If LittleFella wanted to bring something to school it was better that it was weed and not a hand gun."
"I hate getting old." I'm sitting here at my kitchen table and I'm in the midst of a senior moment. "Oh my God, when did this event start," I was thinking to myself. Let's see, today is Friday, I gave the document back to her on Thursday, there was no school on Wednesday, so this started on Tuesday. Damn! That just doesn't sound right and I hate when this happens. Well, quoting Emily Litella (aka Gilda Radner), from Saturday Night Live back when the show was actually funny, "never mind." Let's just forget what day it was and I'll continue with the story.
"Schultz, I need you to read something for me." "Okay, what is it?" "It's a grant application form. I'm trying to convince this organization to support Camp Opp by providing some financial assistance." "Are you sure you want me to read this as I don't have any experience with writing grants." "Yes, I hate doing it. There are too many questions, they want too much information, and the entire process just stresses me out. Besides, you have a gift with words." "Alright, hand me the grant form." It took about ten seconds to realize how much information was needed. There were multiple pages and I believe fifteen questions that needed to be answered. "T4, this grant requires a lot of information. If you don't mind, I'll take it home where I can read it uninterrupted." "Yes, please do that."
When I got home I ate my lunch and then pulled out the grant form and started reading. I need to be very cautious now so as not to ruffle anyone's feathers. As I was reading what was written I came across some wording, be careful now, don't ruffle any feathers, that needed to be...…. adjusted. Adjusted, yeah, that sounds safe enough. Knowing that adjustments were needed I wasn't sure if I could write on the grant form so I sent a text message to T4 for clarification. T4 responded, "yes," and I read on. For about two hours prior to my evening meal and then another hour and a half after my evening meal I went through all fifteen questions and I made some notes, actually a lot of notes, on the grant form. There were so many notes that I was a bit hesitant to return the grant form to T4. The next morning, not wanting to be placed in the category of Toughen Up Buttercup, I manned up, walked into the classroom, returned the grant form to T4 and, for the record, I remained upright and on my feet.
The dates for the next fourth grade camping experience has been set. This three day, two night adventure will take place the last week of May. Pre-camp instructions have been prepared for each of the fifty or so scholars that will be attending. Included in these instructions are the camp dates, forms that need to be completed, permission slips that needs to be signed by the parental unit, a list of frequently asked questions has been prepared, a list of items to bring to camp has been prepared, tee-shirts have been ordered, and I'm sure if T4 was sitting right next to me she could add to this list.
Time is moving quickly and there is one significant hurdle that needs to be jumped over, funding. Below, you will find the link to Camp OPP. Please consider giving a donation to Camp OPP to send these scholars to camp. As I'm sure you've heard, when it comes to requests for financial support, no amount is too small. T4 and the other fourth teachers work with several scholars that come from hard places so any financial support you can provide will be greatly appreciated.
Here is the link to Camp Opp - www.oppcamp.org Click on the link and it will take you to the Camp OPP homepage. In the upper left hand corner you will see a white box with three bars inside it. Click on the white box, the screen will change, then scroll down and click on donate to the fall campaign.
Thanks for following along and if the good Lord is willing and the creek don't rise I'll be back next week.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)