Daylight Serenade

There I was happily having a luverly discussion with one of my most favorite classes - and then it happened.

I glanced out the door and one of our secretaries was there with the guidance counselor and one of the interns working in our school. Behind them were four old guys wearing matching suits with bright red ties.

No, I hadn't been zapped into the Twilight Zone.

The hub found a unique way to do something for me for Valentine's Day. He sent a barbershop quartet to sing to me. They were so much fun. They all traipsed in, handed me roses and a card, told me that my hub sent them and proceeded to start singing.

My class was stunned and more and more people started filtering into my room to see what was going on. To say it was different is an understatement. It was delightful!

Between songs, they gave me little messages from the hubster that were all pretty damn sweet. The kids were taking pics with their cell phones, the women in the room were crying. The guys were grinning, and me? I didn't know what to say or do.

Nobody ever told me what the proper protocal is when being serenaded by four total strangers in front of a room full of people.

I'm pretty certain that I blushed. I know I got misty eyed.

It was sweet. To be honest, it was probably one of the most touching things he's ever done for me on Valentine's Day.

Peace

New Buddy

Soooooooo I am really cool now. I have a new penpal. Okay, so he's only written to me once. I see that as a start to a new and beautiful relationship full of dialog and the exchange of ideas.

*snork*

Yeah yeah, I am exagerating. Even so, it's still kind of cool.

I write letters. I write to my congress dudes and dudettes. I write to my governor. I write when things bug the beejeebers out of me.

That's how one of my missives ended up in Washington DC. That's why my new penpal (that based on the fact that I got ONE letter back thus far) even knows I exist.

Yes, my new penpal is none other than Barrack Obama.

My own kids and my students were tickled pink to see the return address on the envelop and run their fingertips over the Presidential seal. Sure, it wasn't personalized - even so - it came from the big house in DC. That said to all the teens in my life that they "do" make a difference. It said everyone can put in their two cents. They were amazed.

As for me? If my penpal and his wife decide to have us over for dinner, I shall wear my new sassy ensemble that I bought for the wedding. Just don't tell 'em it was on sale!

Peace

Duh

I truly do love my sophomores this year, but they sometimes drive me utterly and completely bonkers! I was warned. I can't say I had no idea what to expect. Everyone, and I do mean everyone that taught these kiddos before they pranced into my room last September said the same thing - "great kids, very chatty, but low achievers". It fits them perfectly.

Collectively, they are content to be proficient. There really isn't a single one of them that puts any great effort into school. They want to be spoonfed and would rather have me give them a bunch of information to memorize than to put any real thought into how the world works, why things happened, how one event led to another, etc. It's frustrating because I'm NOT a teacher that simply tosses dates and names at kids to memorize. I want them to "understand" the world around them. Argh!

A classic example was Friday. I was covering the end of WWI - it was time to mention the atomic bombs being dropped. Puleeze don't turn this into a discussion about the right or wrong of it - no no no peeps, I just wanna tell you 'bout my class, not get all political here.

Sooooooooooooooooo.............

It went kind of like this (abbreviated for the sake of my purdy little sore fingers and my non-desire to type each word)

"On August 6, 1945 the United States dropped the first atomic bomb on the city of Hiroshima....... (yada yada yada)"

Then...

"The Japanese didn't surrender, and three days later the United States dropped a second atomic bomb on the city of Nagasaki..... (yada yada yada)"

One of the total black and white thinker type boys interupts me to ask "Uh, what year was that bomb dropped?"

My look of utter exasperation must have shown because one of the kids who "gets it", looked up, grinned at me, and muttered "that would have been 1946".

I didn't say anything, I just went on to explain the Japanese officially signed papers to surrender in September of 1945.

The confused boy looked up with a rather dazed and confused expression on his face and said "Uh, that doesn't make any sense!"

I asked why.

His reply?

"Well why would we have dropped a bomb on them in 1946, if they surrendered in 1945?"

*bangs head on desk*

Did you notice that I'd said "three days later"? Duh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Sometimes I just want to stomp my feet and cry. Those feelings were intensified when the kids sitting around him said "uh, we have 1946 written down too!"

I had to explain that sarcasm boy was just messing with their heads because they should have KNOWN the year when I said it was three days AFTER August 6 of 1945. Instead of saying "oh oh oh, I get it", they said things like "well why did he SAY 1946???"

My head hurts.

Peace