. Regurgitated Alpha Bits

Saturday, October 18, 2014

Whattta Load of Junk

Kid: "Are we learning any Common Core this year?"

Me: "Absolutely, everything we're learning is based on Common Core standards."

Kid: "Oh. Well my mom says Common Core is a load of junk."

Me: "Oh? If she has any questions or concerns about what you're learning this year, tell her she can give me a call. I want her to be very comfortable with what her son is doing in school." How about you? Do you feel like you've learned anything new this year?"

Kid: "Nope."

Me: "Well, did you know how to make compound sentence before 4th grade?"

Kid: "No."

Me: "What about the patterns we've been identifying in math? Did you see those before 4th grade?"

Kid: "Well, no."

Me: "Both of those come from the Common Core standard. It seems you have learned something from those standards, right?"

Kid: " No. They are just a load of junk."

I guess you can't fight genetics. 

Sunday, October 12, 2014

Brass Yourself


As I've done too many times to count, I spoke before I thought. 

And had this conversation with a child:

Me: So Timmy, what instrument are you going to play in orchestra?

Fifth Grader Timmy: Trumpet

Me: Ah, so you're a brass man. (Wait! Did I just say that?!?)

Fifth Grader Timmy: I guess I am! Maybe I'll call myself that!

Me: Um, let's not. 

Friday, September 19, 2014

Put It in Reverse

Poor little 4th grade Michelle. 

She's always a bit out of the loop. 

It's not her fault. School is hard for her. Most of it is way over her head. 

She tries, but everything is tough for her. 

Today, she accidentally got into the wrong app on her iPad, and couldn't figure out why hers looked so different than what my teaching partner was showing on his. 

When he came over to help, he explained that, whoops, she's in the wrong app. 

"Go ahead and back out of that app and open this one," he said. 

"Ok," she said. 

And she slid her chair back from her desk. 

Wednesday, September 17, 2014

Oh, Bloody Hell

I cut my hand. 

Not a big cut. Hardly noticeable, in fact. It was right on the back of my hand. 

I did it several days ago, and the scab started coming off today. It was getting caught on everything. Who knew one little scabby edge could be so annoying?!?

So, during Language Arts, I ripped off the scab and went back to discussing the ethical issues found in The Giving Tree

I'm teaching and talking and pointing and questioning and being all animated to keep their attention after lunch, which we all know is a battle, but to no avail. 

Well, they were just staring at me. 

In horror.  

Turns out, little cuts on the back of your hand bleed a lot. The whole back of my hand, fingers and part of my pants were all bloody. 

I've seen WWII footage with less blood. 

In my head, I simply couldn't understand why they were not into this awesome lesson I'd developed. Meanwhile, in their heads, they were wondering why I hadn't died from blood-loss yet. 

A little pressure from a tissue, and a lot of offers to get me (and for some reason themselves) a bandaide, and soon I was all fixed up. 

And I certainly have learned not to take scabs for granted.