Learn Me Gooder

After seeing this on the test my very first year and realizing what difficulty my kids were having with it, I started practicing the skill with subsequent classes much earlier in the year. Most of the kids this year have gotten pretty good at it, but a few of them always want to add the numbers, regardless of how high they are or what they mean.

Yes, Unthinking One, the temperature went up 162 degrees today! Let’s not stop to consider whether or not that makes any sense, let’s just add numbers, because adding is fun! WHEEEEE!! Who wants sugar??

Whenever I see a kid who has chosen such an answer, I always ask him, “Do you realize how hot that is? If the temperature ever went up that much, we would all die! There would be fires! Earthquakes!! Dogs and cats living together!!! MASS HYSTERIA!!!!”

Sadly, they never seem to take the hint (or recognize the movie quote).

Ironically, Lakeisha – harbinger of the fiery apocalypse – always gets these elapsed temperature problems correct.

I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised that they have such difficulty with this, because their internal body thermostats are quite clearly on the fritz. Every August, when it’s over 100 degrees outside, there are kids running around the playground wearing big bulky sweatshirts. And every winter when it’s freezing, there are kids who come to school in shorts.

I am encouraged, though, that all of the kids DO understand another concept we’ve been discussing – probability. At the end of the day, as I was getting ready to draw some tickets for the prize basket, I thought I’d test the kids’ understanding. At the third grade level, probability is not daunting at all. It boils down to one of four options. Something is either most likely, least likely, equally likely, or impossible. If there are 3 red blocks, 3 green blocks, 1 blue block, and 6 yellow blocks in a box, then yellow is most likely to be picked, blue is least likely, red and green are equally likely, and mauve with polka-dots is impossible.

You know I give out blue tickets to the kids for good behavior and participation. They then put their names on the tickets, and I draw three tickets on Friday for prizes. As I stirred the tickets around in the bowl today and all eyes were upon me, I asked, “Who would be IMPOSSIBLE for me to pick right now?”

I was expecting answers like, “Mrs. Bird!” or, “President Obama!” or even, “Fred Bommerson!”

Instead, nearly every single kid shouted, “JOAQIM!!”

I was momentarily taken aback, but as I glanced at Joaqim, slouched in his chair, he shrugged sheepishly and said, “Yeah, I don’t have any tickets in there.”

You know what this means? They get it!! They all totally understand probability – or at least what the term “impossible” means! Even perennial underperformer Joaqim, who is hard pressed to understand how a crayon works!

Success!

Now if I can just get those few kids to realize that it is IMPOSSIBLE for the temperature to rise over 150 degrees in one day. Except of course for that day when lava covers the earth and kills all of the dead people.

Talk to you later,



Sir Tenn



Date: Tuesday, December 15, 2009





To: Fred Bommerson



From: Jack Woodson



Subject: Clear and present manger





Hey bud,



I had another great date with Jill. There is definitely something special there, and it’s not just our shared disdain for standardized tests and empty mechanical pencils. I told her about Joaqim and his improbable breakthrough, and she thought it was funny, though she didn’t start naming kids that are most likely, least likely, and impossible to pass, as you did. And tell Winter to stop saying my class has jumped the shark. This isn’t a TV show, you know!

Here at school, it’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas. Excuse me, I should say it’s beginning to look a lot like Holiday Season. I’ve never particularly been one for euphemisms (despite the cruel joke my parents played on me by giving me the middle name “Euphemism”), and that one especially chaps my hide. Why isn’t February the “Holiday Season?” I mean, you’ve got Valentine’s Day, Presidents’ Day, Groundhog Day, MY birthday... talk about a holiday bonanza!

But no, we can’t officially talk about Christmas in school anymore – Heaven forbid! (Wait, can I say the word “Heaven?”) During the morning announcements today, Mrs. Forest capped things off with, “Remember, kids, there are only four school days left until Chris – Winter Break!”

I could practically hear her larynx split down the middle as it attempted to do a 180 and avoid saying the C-word.

Call me a rebel, but I haven’t corrected any of my kids who have mentioned “Christmas Break” in class. I haven’t refrained from using those words myself. And I sure as heck haven’t removed Bubba, the Christmas-Specific Nutcracker.

This crazy weather we’re having seems to have given some kids a reason to start Christmas vacation early! Last night, when I got home, it was almost 80° outside. Today after school, I threw a couple of snowballs at the buses as they left.

Yes, the temperature dropped that far in less than 24 hours. Please entirely disregard my previous email about elapsed temperature impossibilities. While it didn’t start snowing until around 11 o’clock, it was 34° on my drive in to the school. And for that half an hour that I had to stand out in front of the school on crosswalk duty, it didn’t get any warmer. I had on my ski cap, gloves, and scarf, and I was still miserable. My crosswalk partner, Mr. Vann, was bundled up like a Tusken Raider – with better conversational skills, of course. We didn’t greet nearly as many kids as usual, because a lot of parents must have watched the weather reports, seen what was coming, and kept their children at home.

After the morning announcements had ended and after I had regained feeling in my extremities, Mrs. Forest came on the speaker again and asked for a head count so that the cafeteria would know how many lunches to have ready. I sent a few kids out to collect up numbers from the other third grade teachers, and the results came back looking like Mike Vanderjagt’s field-goal record as a Dallas Cowboy. 10/17, 14/17, 16/21, etc.

I had just 3 kids missing out of 18, but Mrs. Bird only had 11 out of her 17 present. So in the afternoon, after we had switched classes – and after two parents had come to pick up their children – I had a ridiculously small class. It was actually quite pleasant.

Lex and Tyler had caused a lot of trouble yesterday for the substitute teacher while I was at a training. So today, I had both of them sitting at their seats repeatedly copying the phrase, “I will not misbehave and act like a fool.”

I can only hope that one day that message will stick!

At 2:00, Cerulean and Felipe went to their resource class, and Ella was picked up by her mother. I started to feel like I was stuck in an Agatha Christie novel – And Then There Were Six.

I’m pretty sure this is the first time in my teaching career that I have had less than ten kids at the end of the day. Even on the last day of school, I’ve never had this few.

It will be very interesting to see how tomorrow goes. The forecast calls for highs in the mid-40s, and as far as I know, there are no plans to close the schools. However, it is supposed to be in the 20s tomorrow MORNING, and seeing as how that is when parents decide whether or not to send their kids out the door, I would not be surprised to have only a handful of kids again. Unfortunately, I can almost guarantee that the misbehaving fools will be first in line at my doorway. In shorts.

Talk to you later,



Shelby Freezing



Date: Thursday, December 17, 2009





To: Fred Bommerson



From: Jack Woodson



Subject: It’s 3:00 PM. Do you know where your parents are?



Hey man,



I had wondered if the attendance there at the plant might be similar to the attendance I was seeing at school. Especially for people like Mary Pickens or Les Johnson. They practically live in Oklahoma! I wouldn’t want their commute on a NORMAL day!

It doesn’t surprise me at all that Larry would take both days off and then call everyone repeatedly to let them know he was industriously working from home.

My numbers yesterday were slightly lower than what I had told you about on Tuesday. I let the kids play math games for most of the day, and it gave me a chance to do a little individual work with a few of the lower kids like Cerulean, who was cheating on the math games anyway.

Today, with the temperatures back up above freezing, my classes were once again at full capacity.

It’s hard to believe, but tomorrow is the last school day of 2009! It’s the last work day of the year for you, too! It should be a super-easy, fun, party day. Well, for me, I mean. EVERY day is like that for YOU, right?

Mrs. Bird and I are planning on having very short class periods and then putting both groups together for the party. I don’t have a whole lot planned academically. The kids need to take their multiplication test – it’s the 5’s, so there SHOULD be no problems – and we have a little bit of science to finish up.

After lunch, we’re going to show Toy Story 2. If anybody questions the “academic merit” of showing such a film, I will readily expound on how we have been talking about non-renewable resources, such as oil, which is used to make plastic, which we are observing in the forms of Woody and Buzz.

Like I said, tomorrow should be a fun day. Today, on the other hand, was a long day, complete with a cafeteria malfunction that brought about sack lunches and necessitated that teachers eat with their kids. I found myself wedged in between Gwenn and Ava, being bombarded with questions like, “Are you Team Edward or Team Jacob?”

I thought my answer – Team Spiderman – should have been fairly obvious.

Near the end of the lunch period, Miles said he didn’t like chocolate pudding and offered me his. I graciously accepted. Then Priya offered me hers. Then Smoker Anna. Before I knew it, I had a pudding pyramid in front of me.

I left the cafeteria with a sack containing fifteen cups of chocolate pudding. So you’re probably thinking, “Man, I know what HE’LL be doing over Christmas break!”

Today also presented me with several of the most interesting interactions with parents I’ve ever had, outside of Conference Night. Jacob Marley warned Scrooge that he would be visited by three ghosts. Nobody informed ME that I would make contact with three parents before this day was through.

The first came in the form of an email during my planning period. When we met with Victor’s mom one day after school last month, she gave us her email address and asked us to use it if Victor was not doing his homework or took any more trips to the planet Zorlon. I’ve emailed her several times since then, though it hasn’t seemed to have had a whole lot of impact on his work ethic.

Today, I received an email from Victor’s mother with the subject line “FWD: Ninja Kitties.” I had been cc’ed, along with twelve other people, and the only thing the email contained was a movie file.

Granted, the video clip WAS hilarious. I mean, who wouldn’t enjoy seeing a cat leap out of nowhere and attach itself to some dudetsel"s crotch? But what I don’t get is what on earth would possess this lady to think that I want to be part of her email forwarding group?? Am I now going to start receiving jokes of the day, top ten lists, and chain messages from Bill Gates? Is she going to friend request me on Facebook?

The second parent contact came after school. I had completely forgotten about the weird thumping sound that my car started to make as I pulled into the parking lot this morning. At the time, I had pulled into the nearest parking spot and looked under my front tires VERY quickly. It was super cold and still pretty dark. It looked like a little piece of plastic had come loose and was bumping against the tire. I didn’t think about it again all day long.

At around 4:30, when I started to pull out of the parking space, my memory was jolted, and I immediately knew I had a flat tire. What I had failed to notice this morning was a piece of metal wire about two feet long and about a quarter inch in diameter sticking out of my tire.

After the customary amount of cursing had been purged from my system, I broke out the jack and spare tire from my trunk and started to take the lug nuts off.

Not too long after, I heard a voice say, “Do you need some help?”

I looked up to see Vito’s father standing there. You may remember Vito from my class last year. His family lives in the neighborhood, and the parents walk the kids to school every day. They also walk back up to the school every evening to play on the playground. The kids play, not the parents.

I stood up to say hi to Vito’s father, and almost immediately, he practically shoved me out of the way to complete changing the tire. Honestly, I did very little but watch and roll the spare over to him.

Afterwards, when I shook his hand and thanked him profusely, he simply said, “No problem. You taught my son last year.”

Wow, I guess there ARE some tangible rewards to being a teacher after all!

After a not so quick stop at the tire store, I drove to the nearby Super Target. Tomorrow night, Mrs. Caring is having a Holiday – no! Christmas! – party at her house, and I stopped to get some adult beverages and chips.

I didn’t need to spend long in the store, having just a couple of things to grab. I took my items up to the cash register, said hi to the cashier, put my items on the conveyor belt, and started flipping through my wallet. As I was pulling out the ol’ magic plastic money card, the cashier asked, “So how is my daughter doing?”

I completely had not recognized Ella’s mother, who was standing behind the counter and waiting for me to reply. She hadn’t worn the Target apron to parent conference night, and that must have thrown me off.

I tried to recover as best I could. “She’s doing pretty well, actually. She seems to be paying more attention in class – oh, could you put the booze in a separate bag, please? – though she has turned in a few incomplete homeworks.”

While we waited for the credit card transaction to go through, I considered asking her if she had seen the ninja kitties video on the internet, but I figured I had already embarrassed myself enough by not recognizing her.

I really need to remember not to do my shopping so close to the school.

Well hey, have fun at the HPU Christmas party! Be sure to take pictures or video if Larry once again transforms into “Ted, the guy who hangs mistletoe in inappropriate places.”

Merry Christmas!



Gene E Awlogee



Date: Wednesday, January 6, 2010





To: Fred Bommerson



From: Jack Woodson



Subject: Don’t I know you?



Hey bud,



I haven’t heard from you since the New Year’s Eve party at Winter’s place, so I hope you’ve managed to recover fully. I guess you realize now that you’re too old to do tequila shots, and even more importantly, GIN shots are a horrible idea at ANY age.

Have you made any New Year’s resolutions? Here are a few of mine:



Continue to teach our society’s youth the basics and complexities of mathematics – after all, they are our future.

Establish a space base on faraway Pluto. It might not be recognized as a planet anymore, but it still has strategic value.

Learn a new language. I’m waffling between Elvish and Na’vi.

Further explore my newfound love for the cranberry.

Display compassion and patience with the students placed in my care, and stop snapping them with rubber bands.



Yesterday was the kids’ first day back after Christmas vacation. As expected, there was a lot of information that had been forgotten over the break, many groggy expressions, and a great disdain for having to be back at the school again. But enough about MY attitude; the kids were pretty good.

Before we left for break, several children gave me little gifts. I got some decorative candy containers, a candle or two, a tranquility fountain, and a couple of other items. So today, I handed out thank you cards to those kids who had begifted me. As a stocking stuffer, my mom gave me a set of Justice League thank you notes. Superman, Batman, the Flash, et al. graced the front side, and my heartfelt appreciation graced the inside.

Reactions were mixed. Jacob actually seemed embarrassed to be receiving a superhero card from his teacher, while Tomas exclaimed, “I’m too old for Batman!”

To which I replied, “Well I’m not!”

Clearly, I am going to have to go in tomorrow wearing my Batman tie, my green power ring, and maybe even a red cape for good measure. But not my Incredible Hulk underoos. He’s not in the Justice League, and the underoos are in the wash.

While I didn’t lose any students over the break, I did gain two new ones yesterday. Ta’varon and Demontrae are brothers, but not twins. That’s never a good portent for the older one, in this case, Demontrae.

Ta’varon is in my homeroom and Demontrae went to Mrs. Bird. Already, I can see tiny little differences, like the fact that Ta’varon is friendly and easy-going, while Demontrae is surly and workophobic.

Happy New Year to me!

While I was getting my new student settled, Mrs. Frisch came into my room and caused a bit of embarrassment. I can’t remember if you’ve ever met her or not, but you’d never forget her if you had. I love her to death, but the woman has no volume control.

She walked in right after announcements and said, “Hey, Jack. Did you have a nice break? How are things going with your new girlfriend? Are you in LUUUUUUVVV?”

This was in her normal tone of voice, which is only slightly quieter than a jet engine.

Naturally, all of the kids had stopped any pretense of doing their work and were just staring at me. I almost expected Jessie or Smoker Anna to ask, “Yeah, Jack, how IS your new relationship?”

I awkwardly told Mrs. Frisch I would talk to her later and drove our visitor out of the room.

This afternoon, though, I had a fantastic surprise visitor that was also a blast from the past. Pinar, one of my favorite students from my very first year of teaching (actually, one of my all-time favorites) stopped by my classroom around 2:00 today. She’s in the tenth (!!!!) grade in a nearby district, and they don’t go back to school until next week.

I was right in the middle of working a word problem with the kids when she came in, so after the exclamations and hugs, I told the kids that we had a guest teacher, and I let her take over for me. My kids from this year seemed absolutely flabbergasted that standing before them was an actual, real life example of someone who had been in my class years ago. They were practically falling over themselves trying to get Pinar to call on them as she went through the steps of the problem.

When she was done, she informed me, “I don’t really like math.”

D’OH!!!

We chatted for a few minutes, and I learned that she had skipped 5th grade, she was on her school’s volleyball team, and she still thought fondly of her old teachers. She was disappointed that Mrs. Swanson wasn’t at the school anymore but seemed very happy to hear about her two kids. We exchanged email addresses, and then she left to look for Miss Rooker.

Seeing Pinar made me think back on some of my other kids from my rookie year. I wonder if Kelvin is still rapping and dancing, if Ariel is still so overly somber, and if Marvin is still telling everybody that he tastes like chicken.

I’ll bet none of THOSE kids are too old for Batman.

Talk to you later,



The Flashback



Date: Tuesday, January 12, 2010





To: Fred Bommerson



From: Jack Woodson



Subject: Full court mess





Hey buddy,



Yes, I know full well that YOU are not too old for superheroes, but I’m not in the practice of writing thank you cards to people for dating advice. BAD advice, at that! Jill would most definitely NOT be impressed if I showed up wearing jean shorts, flip flops, and three popped collars.

Speaking of flip flops, I’m surprised you remember Esteban from my first year. I doubt that he skipped a grade like Pinar did, so that would make him a high school freshman this year. I wonder if he’d tell me the name of his girlfriend.

“AMANDA!”

“NO, CHRISTY!!”

“WAIT, IT’S KIMBERLY!!!”

Today we started something that wasn’t done during my first year at all. It’s an “enrichment” program after school on Tuesdays. (Sounds like something to do with wheat and associated by-products, right?) From 3:15-4:30, most of the teachers stay and supervise a group of kids in a specific activity. Some teachers run a soccer club, some do cheerleading, some do puzzles and Legos, some do chess. I wanted to do a “Texas Two-Card Hold ‘Em” club, but they wouldn’t let me. I don’t know why not, it would reinforce mathematical concepts of probability and multiplication. Instead, I chose to lead a basketball club.

I had a group of seventeen third graders (not just my own) at the outdoor baskets today, and the first thing I did was teach them how to play Knock Out. This is a fast-moving game involving two basketballs and a fair share of coordination. I’m holding off on teaching them anything that requires TOO much coordination, like the full court three-man weave or the 360 Tomahawk dunk. We’ll save that for the advanced club.

We were having a lot of fun, and the atmosphere was very relaxed. At one point, when several kids had hit consecutive baskets, I shouted, “I’m gonna start calling you ‘butter,’ cuz you’re on a roll!” This brought on a stunned, “HUH???” from several kids, and it effectively ended the streak. Note to self: third graders not yet ready for SportsCenter.

They did have their own little catch phrase, though. Whenever somebody made a shot – and quite often even when somebody just TOOK a shot – several of the boys would yell, “SWAGGER!”

I’m not familiar with this interjection at all, and nobody could tell me what it meant or why they were saying it, other than that they had heard other people say it. Even Tyler, who was screaming it the loudest and most aggressively, had no idea WHY he was screaming it.

This made me want to see if I could get them to say something else nonsensical.

The next time I made a shot, I shouted, “PICANTE!”

That got me some strange looks. I told the kids, “That’s what we used to say back in the day.”

I continued to shout it every time I made a shot. As I had hoped, by the end of the day, a couple of boys had tentatively shouted, “Khan-tay!” after making a basket.

As I was playing with the kids, it made me think back on some of my fond basketball memories. Going winless in my senior year of high school was not one of them. Being compared to a spider monkey by the Guam Bomb didn’t make the list either. But one of my brother’s 8th grade games IS up there as a high point.

My dad was the coach of Zack’s team, and I helped out as an assistant coach. This particular game was against the dreaded arch-rival, so we enacted Operation: Super Spazz. The Saturday morning of the game, I dressed as one of the team. I was a senior in high school, so I was already at full-size – 6’4”, 180 lbs – and I stood out monstrously from the other kids on the court. In addition to my size advantage, I had meticulously cultivated a wild, animalistic appearance. I wore a pair of racquetball-style goggles (think Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, circa mid-80s) and the most severe case of bedhead this side of Jimmy Fallon.

During pre-game warm-ups, I participated in the layup lines, each time running full speed at the basket and heaving the ball at the backboard as hard as possible. I was going for maximum rebound distance, hoping to have to chase the ball past half court into the opposing ranks. With each heave, I let out a primal yell, like the Goonies’ Sloth trying to free himself from imprisonment. I think at one point, I even picked up one of my brother’s teammates and shook him around.

Once the game started, I couldn’t play of course, so I sat on the bench. But the psychological impact was visible. The other team’s point guard frequently stole glances over at our bench, and whenever he did, I pointed at him and made a gesture like Ozzy Osbourne biting the head off of a bat. They played scared the entire game, and we won easily. Years later, in high school, my brother became buddies with several of the players from that team, and one of them confided in him that he had almost wet his pants that day.

Making memories. That’s what I’m all about.

Talk to you later,



Arlen Globetrotter



Date: Friday, January 15, 2010





To: Fred Bommerson



From: Jack Woodson



Subject: Houston, we have a word problem





Hey dude,



I apologize for giving you such a sports overloaded email earlier this week. I sometimes forget what a sports weenie you are, and that even athletes’ nicknames tend to confuse you. Though it’s certainly entertaining for the rest of us when you talk about Michael “The Refrigerator” Jordan, Alex “Air” Rodriguez, and Wayne “Too Tall” Gretzky.

But let’s move away from sports.

Earlier this week, Miss Gellar, a special ed teacher, approached me in the hall and asked if I had a boy named Maurice in my class. She told me that she thought he might be responsible for some graffiti out on the playground, as some writing with his name on it had been found on the inside of one of the tube slides.

I told her that none of my kids ever write their names on anything, so it was probably the Maurice in Mrs. Fitzgerald’s class. I did ask what he had written, though. I was fully expecting to hear that he had spelled “F-U-K” or “B-I-C-H-T.” Instead, Miss Gellar said the graffiti read, “Maurice has 25 hot wheels cars. His friend has 19 hot wheels cars. How many cars in all?”

Maurice is a math graffiti artist! SCORE!! Just kidding, nobody should be defacing school property. But hey, if you’ve got to write something onto the side of a public façade, why not make it something that is likely to stimulate brain cells?

Since we’ve been back from vacation, we’ve been focusing pretty hard on word problems. Maurice’s example notwithstanding, this has proven to have many “problems” of its own.

Most word problems follow some sort of logical path. Most third graders do not. So while it might make perfect sense to you or me that if somebody gives away five pencils, they should then have LESS pencils than they started with – prompting subtraction – that’s not always the way it works out.

Usually, when we walk through a problem together out loud in a class discussion, logic prevails. The kids, even the low ones, can tell me when they should add and when they should subtract. The problem arises when the kids face the questions on their own. The main issue being that many of the kids don’t actually read the problem or think about what the words mean.

Did you ever see that Far Side cartoon captioned, “What dogs hear?” The human says, “Spot, fetch my slippers! Good boy, Spot, that’s a good boy, Spot!” and the dog hears, “Spot, blah blah blah blah blah, Spot, blah blah blah blah Spot!”

Gary Larson could do a similar cartoon called, “What kids read.”



“Blah blah blah blah blah blah 15 blah blah. Blah blah blah blah blah blah 3 blah blah. Blah blah blah blah blah?”



The kid would then go through a complicated thought process – “Ooooooh, I spy, with my tiny little eye, two numbers!! The magic 8-ball in my head says to ADD them! Adding is my favorite!”

Then the teacher, ME, reads their answer and wonders why the heck each friend has 18 hotdogs, if Alex started with 15 hotdogs and split them up evenly among 3 friends. (Never mind the fact that they added hotdogs and friends and magically turned them all into hotdogs.)

Anyway, Mrs. Fitzgerald, Miss Palmerstein, and I had a brilliant idea last week. We figured that a great way to help the kids get even better with math problems AND to save ourselves the effort of searching through books for good homework was to have the kids do ALL of the work. So their “test” today was to write their own word problems. They were allowed to write as many as they wanted, but they had to write at least one problem that required addition and at least one problem that required subtraction.

Some of the problems that I received were actually quite well written, and some were endearingly hilarious. It was clear that nearly all of the kids put their best effort forward.

Here are some of the standouts:



“Felipe has 24 suckers and he gave Tyler 10 of them. How many suckers did he have left?”

This might not seem so special, but it came from Felipe, one of my absolute lowest students.



“On Friday, I had a test of addition and there were 12 problems. I only finished 5 of them. How many more did I need to do?”

This is a fantastic subtraction problem from Thilleenica that doesn’t involve anything being given or taken away.



“Antonio and Victor went to school. Antonio did the Pledge of Allegiance 20 times. The next day, Victor did the Pledge of Allegiance 50 times. How many times did they do it all together?”

I’m telling you, I make them recite it until they get it right, and there are no more mentions of “One Asian, under God.”



“Ta’varon had 5 sisters. 2 of them went to college. How many sisters does he have now?”

Well, still five, I think. Unless of course they went to North Carolina, in which case it would stand to reason that they are dead to him.



“Yesterday, the temperature was 34° F. What will be the change in temperature during the night?”

Eddie posed a question more suited for our meteorologists than our third graders.



“Mister Woodson has 99 markers. He received 900 more markers. Mister Woodson has a nice haircut. How many markers does Mister Woodson have in all?”

An interesting choice of random extra information, and Tyler’s nose WAS a bit browner than usual today.



And finally, a question from Cerulean, who unfortunately just doesn’t understand the concept.

“Derrick had $22 in the bank. He spent $32 for his lunch. How many more money does he have left?”

I hope this poor girl doesn’t get her hands on a credit card anytime soon, because I’m afraid she’s going to be upside-down immediately.



I’m going to take several of the good ones and use them as morning problems and homework problems next week. And if one or two of them show up on the swing set or monkey bars, I will disavow any knowledge of said problems.

Later,



Saul V Kwaytion



Date: Thursday, January 21, 2010





To: Fred Bommerson



From: Jack Woodson



Subject: I have a bean!



Hey bud,



I wouldn’t expect for you to see any third grade word problems scrawled on the walls there at the factory. Ben Marston from R&D HAS been known to scribble chemical formulas on the bathroom stall door, though, so watch out for that. He claimed that inspiration struck at an awkward moment when he didn’t have anything to write on. Us dumb jock guys pointed out that he was sitting right next to an entire roll of writing material, and he seemed stunned. You know those brainiac guys – can’t see the toilet paper for the trees.

By the way, I forgot to mention it last time, but I REALLY wish I could have seen the look on Larry’s face when you shouted, “PICANTE!” over his cubicle wall. I just think you shouldn’t have explained it to him. You should have left him wondering what the heck you were smoking.

I hope you’re having a great week. I myself am having a very short week. We had Monday off for MLK Day, and Tuesday was our semester transition teacher work day. One semester down and one to go! We’ve made it through 1/2 of the year, we’ve got 2/3 left to go, and only 12/9 of my kids understand fractions.

It’s amazing how the short weeks always feel like the longest. I think the kids feel like they have to cram a week’s worth of foolishness into a mere three days.

In honor of the holiday, Mrs. Bird had her kids reading and writing about Martin Luther King, Jr. She gave them mini-biographies and asked them to make a “biography quilt” on a large piece of construction paper.

She brought one of the quilts and one of the books over to show me. First, she asked me to read a page in the book that said Dr. King hoped to inspire Americans “through his peaceful efforts.”

Then she showed me the quilt where Temperance had miscopied this sentiment as, “through his space full of farts.”

Ironically enough, this lets me segue smoothly into my next topic – gas. Well, also solids and liquids. We studied the three states of matter last week, and over the long weekend, I gave the kids a homework assignment where they had to make a list of items around their homes that fell into these three categories.

As I expected, I got some interesting responses in terms of our three states of matter. It’s always fun to read these lists and see what unique items the kids put on their lists. I’m sad to say that so far in my teaching career, no one has listed Nightcrawler’s smelly BAMF cloud or Terminator 2’s liquid metal.

I’m always curious to see which kids are daring/reckless enough to put any bodily functions on their list. Last year, one boy did list “fart” under the gas column. Good for him for thinking outside the box. Just so long as he keeps things inside the bowl. This year, nobody expressed any kind of flatulence, though Miles did list a bunch of solid foods in the “gas” column that would make anyone toot. Baked beans, baked rice, baked everything.

Jacob and Tomas put ketchup on their lists of liquids, so as you might expect, I immediately gave them both a grade of 500. And before you even reply, Fred, I don’t need to hear a lecture about thixotropic solids and whatnot; from a 3rd grader, I will accept ketchup as a liquid.

The most entertaining entry came from Clarisa, whose list of liquids revealed a lot about her home life. First there was Bud Light. Then came Clamato. Naturally, the list ended with Pepto Bismol.

Not turning in a list were my two newest cast members in this two-act play I call third grade. They’re part-time players anyway. These two are from the Behavioral Unit.

At our school, we have a handful of kids who are, for whatever reason, deemed unable to function in a regular classroom environment. Don’t ask me how they select the kids for this unit, because I can’t for the life of me understand how Roy’al is not among them.

Patrick and Felicia are kids that are being slowly reintegrated into the mainstream system. They are only with me for science class every day, and a teacher from the Behavioral Unit is supposed to be with them in class at all times.

Patrick has been at this school for a while, so I’m already somewhat familiar with him. He’s an Eddie Haskell type. If he thinks you’re not watching him, he’ll punch another kid or spit on someone. Then when you look at him, he’ll put on a huge smile and tell you how he loves your tie and your choice of footwear.

Felicia is new to the school. Ms. Hamm, the special ed teacher, told me a little about her last week when they knew she was transferring. Ms. Hamm told me that Felicia seems sweet enough, but that she has frequent anxiety attacks. Oh, and she sees monsters. So she has to carry around a spray bottle of pepper water – I’m assuming that this is exactly what it sounds like – to ward off these monsters.

My first question to Ms. Hamm was, “Can I spray pepper water at some of MY monsters, like Lex and Demontrae?”

Yesterday, Patrick and Felicia didn’t come to my class. Apparently, they weren’t ready. Today, Ms. Whitney accompanied them, and they sat at a table in the back. Ms. Whitney mostly watched over the two Behavioral Unit kids, but she wasn’t hesitant to help out with a few other kids as well. When I asked the kids to take out their science books, Ms. Whitney noticed that Eddie hadn’t complied. She shouted at him, “He SAID, take out your book!!” and he immediately did.

Something tells me that SHE won’t have to play Simon Says with him. In fact, when she yelled at him, I’m pretty sure he let a little bit of all three states of matter out of his body.

Might want to check your shorts for cake, kid.

Talk to you later,



Saul Idstate



Date: Tuesday, January 26, 2010





To: Fred Bommerson



From: Jack Woodson



Subject: Code Clown on Aisle 9!



Hey man,



I think that the only way you’re ever truly going to be rid of your problem is if you sit down and write a formal letter to Paul and/or Reggie, stating that you neither need nor want an example-filled lesson on the three states of matter every time you visit Larry’s cubicle. Be sure to mention that you have it on good authority that the phrase “Pull my finger” is not how most teachers introduce the gas phase.

Beware, though; if Larry counters your complaint by saying, “It’s for science!” your case goes out the window.

I haven’t actually gotten to see Felicia’s pepper water yet, so I can’t answer your question about the delivery system. I would guess it’s just a recycled Windex bottle or something. I’ve also refrained from asking her about the monsters. As it so happens, she’s not the only third grader with monsters on her mind.

Yesterday, as we were coming back inside from recess, several of my girls were enthusiastically telling me that somebody had seen a clown outside, and that this clown had killed a kid. Our transitional conversation usually isn’t quite so morbid. Most of the time, it ranges from, “Mr. Woodson, I forgot my jacket!” to, “Mr. Woodson, I forgot my sweater!” with the occasional, “Mr. Woodson, I left my book outside!” thrown in for good measure.

I pretty much ignored the killer clown comments, instead reminding the kids to “be ninjas” as we walked down the hallway. That’s my code phrase for, “Knock off all that jibber jabber!”

The phenomenon would not be ignored for long, however.

Today at recess, before any of the teachers realized what was going on, a huge group of third graders (about 50 or 60) had gathered out in the far corner of the soccer field where there is a sewer grate. I had a feeling they weren’t holding a poetry slam, so I went out to the field and chased them all back onto the playground, only to hear about twenty confirmations that there was indeed a killer clown living down in the sewer.

Well, this clinches it. Someone has been watching Stephen King’s “It.” Ten years ago, I would have bet good money that no eight-year-old ever would have been allowed to watch a scary movie like that, but my first year of teaching quelled those thoughts. Now I know it’s not at all uncommon for these kids to watch High School Musical and Freddy vs. Jason in the same weekend.

Not only that, but I also have firsthand proof that my kids are so brilliant that instead of running FROM a would-be homicidal circus freak, they would actually swarm CLOSER to it. Have I mentioned that I do NOT work at a Vanguard school?

Most of the kids seem (I hope!) to know that it’s just a big gag. But Ella seems genuinely terrified. While the other kids were trying to top each other’s gruesome stories about the clown, I noticed Ella wincing in terror, as if the Statue of Liberty’s head had just gone careening past her. Miss Rooker had to take her out of class this afternoon and talk with her about it, trying to calm her fears.

I can only hope that next week, nobody comes to school talking about a red and white 1958 Plymouth Fury that can drive itself.

Later in the day, there was another terrifying incident. I don’t know if it was from fear of Pennywise the Killer Clown or from a bad reaction to the fish sticks, but Hillary couldn’t keep her lunch down.

Around 1:30, I was stooped down by Tyler’s desk, helping him with a math problem. All of a sudden, from the other side of the room, I heard the sound of 500 wet paper clips hitting the floor. Ah yes, someone had blown chunks.

I stood up and saw Hillary staring at me with a stained shirt and glazed eyes. She looked like she was in a trance, just waiting to be told what to do. Had I shouted, “VOMIT!” she probably would have puked again. Had I screamed, “JUGGLE BOWLING PINS!!” she might have attempted it. Instead, I shouted, “GO TO THE BATHROOM!!”

Meanwhile, every other eyeball in the room was riveted to the suspiciously Oreo-colored puddle on the floor. My sarcastic inner voice came out, and I couldn’t help saying, “PLEASE! Keep staring at the throw up! Let’s all get a REALLY good look at the vomit and make ourselves sick! Tomorrow, be sure to bring a camera, so you can take a picture!”

WHY??? Why do these kids STARE at throw up? Personally, MY reaction to someone vomiting is to get as far away as possible from that person and their hurlage. Not these kids, though.

Oooh, somebody got sick and made a disgusting mess? Let’s stick our noses in it and get the full sensory experience! Wow, there’s a murderous clown running around? Let’s go see if we can find it and catch its attention! Those toothpicks might be dangerously sharp? Let’s see how many we can get stuck in our butt cheeks!

Well buddy, I’m going to let you go now. I think I’ve got some milk in the fridge that expired in December, so I’m going to see how it smells and tastes.

Later,



Pepe La Puke



Date: Friday, January 29, 2010





To: Fred Bommerson



From: Jack Woodson



Subject: There will be flood





Hey man,



No, I never did discover who actually started the Killer Clown rumor. Chassany tried to tell me one day, but all I heard was, “I heard it from a 4th grader, who heard it from another 4th grader, who heard it from…” Then I zoned out.

Let me address a few of the questions from your co-workers that you presented.

Tell Carol that my fellow teachers and I have banned the kids from going out to that sewer grate anymore, so the clown rumors have mostly subsided.

Let Tiffany know that Ella seems to be over her terror and doesn’t appear to be afraid to go outside anymore.

Please pass on to Winter that the Rampaging Clown never actually hurled chicken fingers at the kids in any of the stories I heard.

After school today, one of our math tutors, a retired teacher named Mrs. Eastgate, came into my room to tell me a funny story. She’s been working with a few of my kids every day, and hopefully it’s making a difference. She had read a word problem with the group that said, “Mary went to the store and bought 2 pairs of shoes. Each pair of shoes cost $25. How much money did Mary spend at the store?”

Mrs. Eastgate told me that after hearing the problem, Franco had leaned over to her and whispered, “Mary should have gone to the Family Dollar store.”

That’s a very thoughtful observation from Franco, and it might be a reflection of the type of critical thinking I’ve been trying to get during science class where we’ve been talking about changes to the environment. Changes on a global scale that is, not localized changes like Larry passing gas in your cubicle.

Today, I gave the kids a quiz called “Helpful or Harmful?” I gave them a list of events that could happen, and they had to decide whether it was helpful or harmful to that environment. They also had to write down some way that that event would change the environment.

For instance, the first event was, “Trees are cut down to build new houses.” For the most part, the kids agreed that this would be harmful to the environment. I was very impressed with Tomas, who said that one effect this would have on the environment would be to reduce the amount of oxygen available. Some of the other responses were not quite as impressive, but still memorable. Here are a few.