Category: School

Summer Reading

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Boy, it would be cool to have nothing at all to do all summer long but read.  I’d go for that in a heartbeat.  I have been reading (every chance I get) and I’ve jumped back on the Goodreads bandwagon to track my books.

Two of my kids have summer-reading assignments.  Middle Sister’s school has a “One Book, One School” policy where students, faculty and staff all read the same book for the summer.  This year it’s The Hunger Games.  While at first I thought the school was selling out by choosing a popular book like that, I’ve changed my tune; I read the book (and the rest of the series) and there is a LOT in there that high-school students can discuss and analyze–and not just in English class.

Little Brother is required to read two books.  One, A Dog’s Life, is required, and he has a generous list of others from which he must choose one more.  He’s worked his way through most of that list (Encyclopedia Brown, anything from Dan Gutman’s “Baseball Card” series, and a few others) but he steadfastly refuses to touch one of the books:  Charlotte’s Web.

I’d almost let him take a pass on that if he’d said that it’s a girls’ book.  But he has not used that as an excuse.  “It’s too big” doesn’t fly with me, since last summer he read all the Harry Potter books.  Then he tried, “It’s a children’s book!”

“Yes, and you’re a children,” I retorted, using grammatical incorrectness to make a point.

Since he’s in the middle of A Dog’s Life, I asked him how that one was going.  He said that so far it’s a sad story, and launched into a long tale about dogs being left by the side of the road by “one of the wives in the couple,” which led Big Brother to muse that this is really a book about Mormons.

The Back-to-School Valentine’s Night Extravaganza and Long-Hallway Jamboree

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I can’t begin to tell you how surprised I was to discover that the high school’s Back to School Night, scheduled on Valentine’s Day, was not very well attended.

A few observations on last night’s event (in no particular order):

A proud moment:  one teacher stood at the classroom door, greeting parents and asking the name of their child.  She smiled when we named Middle Sister, said she was a joy in the classroom, and mentioned that she has been very conscientious about adding to the “prayer intentions” blackboard in the front of the room.

I love that teachers have “prayer intentions” blackboards and encourage the students to use them.  (This was NOT a religion teacher, by the way.)  Things like that are the reason we send our kids to Catholic schools.

And I love that my daughter is using that board.

It’s a good thing Middle Sister runs track, because her classes are just about as far apart as they possibly could be while still being in the same building.

We ran into lots of people we know as we passed each other in the long hallways.  All the parents got in plenty of cardio last night as we rushed from class to class.  Some were too out of breath to do more than wave.

Moms, in general, walk a lot faster than dads.  Case in point:  we left the French classroom at the same time as another couple we’ve known for about 15 years.  We moms left the dads in the dust as we all headed to Bio, and the dads could be heard behind us, “They say we walk too slow.  I say they walk too fast.”  Note to the dads (including my husband):  there is no such thing was “walking too fast.”  You walk way too slow.

The principal wished us a happy Valentine’s Day at least three times during the opening remarks.  Overcompensating for a bad scheduling decision, perhaps?  There were no apologies for the bad scheduling–which would have been welcome.

I’m convinced that one of my daughter’s teachers has ADD.  Yikes.

Another teacher was a bit distracted because she could hear her kids, who were hanging around in the office across the hall from her classroom.  It was Valentine’s Day.  She couldn’t get a babysitter–not even her own college-age daughter.  We commiserated with her.  (And really, her kids were not bad at all, just a bit giggly, and if a Catholic school can’t be family-friendly and tolerate the presence of a couple of kids around Little Brother’s age, then shame on them.)

One teacher made us laugh by faulting the administration for not, at least, serving us pink lemonade on Valentine’s Day.

What "Extracurricular" Means

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Last week when I was substituting for the day at Little Brother’s school, I took the opportunity to tell his teachers that he’ll be having some late nights this week.  It’s Tech Week now for Pippin; the show opens Friday.

Basically, I wanted to let them know that he’d be up late–because I want to know if this is affecting his behavior and work at school.  But they thought I had something else up my sleeve.

“I can change the deadlines for some of his assignments,” one teacher offered.  She seemed surprised when I turned that down.  I told her that we’d make sure the homework was done before we headed out for rehearsals.

He’s been handling 3 rehearsals a week (some of them running until after 10 PM) for more than a month now.  But this week it’s going to be every night, and I didn’t know how that would play out in the classroom.

Apparently I am in the minority here.  These teachers seem to be accustomed to parents who expect that academic requirements be adjusted when extracurriculars get extra demanding.  Around here, it’s homework first.  Sports, Scouts, or other non-academic pursuits, worthy though they may be, do not excuse any of the kids from their school obligations.

Tales from Substitute Land

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I spent yesterday filling in for the librarian/computer teacher at Little Brother’s school.  Overall, it was a good day.  Only one child cried.

The really cute story I read with the first-graders

Here are some of the highlights:

The day began with a 20-minute stint in Morning Car Line, or as a friend of mine calls it, “Coddling Line.”  Somebody’s got to help the 3-year-olds climb out of the Hummers.  Seriously.  Those things are so high off the ground that a 3-year-old can see right under the car without bending over.  It was cold, but not raining, so that’s as good as it gets in January.

It’s an Eighth-Grade Privilege to lead the morning prayers over the PA system.  I’m guessing that yesterday’s prayer leader has been cramming for a science test, because I swear she began with the words, “O Jesus, through the Molecular Heart of Mary…”

My first class was one of the 4-year-old pre-kindergarten groups.  I was nervous, because they were going to spend the time in the computer room, and I’m not as Mac-friendly as the librarian.  Also, I’d never seen the program they were going to be using.  She did show me how to log in to the web-based activity, and that mini-lesson turned out to be a very useful thing.  One child somehow logged herself out of the program no fewer than five times in a 25-minute class period.  Each time, I had to enter a username and password and click through a few things to restart the activity.

When that group came up the stairs to the library and struggled out of their winter coats (the pre-K is in a small schoolhouse across the parking lot) the kids proudly showed me their name tags.  “Are those for me?” I asked them.  “That’s a really big help, because I never met you before!”  Then I told them my name, and the aide said, “They can just call you Mrs. S.”  Upon hearing that, one little girl repeated my name.  I turned to the aide and told her, “Kids usually get it just fine.”  Deal with it, lady.  I do.  Every day.  It’s not THAT hard.

One of the perks of teaching the 4-year-old class is the Reception Line.  As the kids lined up to leave the library, a whole bunch of them stopped to give me hugs.

Without fail, there were quite a few kids in each of the 6 classes I taught yesterday who were worried about the librarian.  How sweet is that?  I made sure to let them know that she was actually there in the building that day working on some technical stuff with the principal.

Some weirdnesses:  I had back-to-back first-grade classes, and while I was deep into reading a great story with the first group, the second class walked into the library 5 minutes early.  HUH?  Now I have to figure out what to do with 40 kids?  I made the teacher wait while I finished the story with the first bunch, then sent them back to their tables for their library books.  Then I guess she had a change of heart because she offered to deliver the other class back to their teacher.  She still wound up with a few free bonus minutes, and I’m guessing her colleague lost a few (not to mention MY moment of panic there.  Substitute Teacher’s motto:  never let ’em see you sweat.)

My first afternoon class came in noisily, followed by the music teacher whose class they’d just left.  Apparently they’d misbehaved in there, and he wanted to let me know that they stood ready to lose a privilege next week if they didn’t shape up and behave in the library.  But they were good.  It took a little to settle them down, but once they all had books in their hands, they were busy reading when the librarian walked in and heard nothing but pages turning.  “They’re so QUIET!”  (Substitute Teacher’s motto:  don’t put up with much.  A few well-directed glares work too.)

In the last class of the day, I had one child crying because of some misunderstanding the day before about a book to be reserved.  It took a little bit to get that worked out, especially since some other student had checked out the book in question earlier in the day.  Maybe it’s uncharitable to say this, but there are some kids whose tears just don’t affect me.  This kid is one of them.  I talked another one out of tattling, which is something that I just do not deal with.  That’s really difficult when I’ve got the second graders, who are tattling pros by now. (Substitute Teacher’s motto:  be immune to tears, tattling and puppy-dog eyes.)

All in all, though, it was a good day.

Advanced Math

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Math has never been my strong point.  I managed to get through college by fulfilling my math requirement with “Introduction to BASIC.”  And I always send the kids to TheDad when they need help with math homework.  He had several semesters of calculus, so he’s way above my pay grade in math.

But math has been plaguing me all day today.  First, I got an email from my New York Cousin, who wanted to know how many servings one of my favorite potluck recipes (Dr. Pepper Baked Beans) would make.

That became a word problem:  How many 1/2-cup side-dish servings do you get from a dish that fills about 3/4 of a 4-quart cooker?

For the record, I’m guessing 20 to 25.

Figuring all that out was a lot easier than helping Little Brother with his math homework this afternoon.  Unlike me, he has always been good at math (he gets it from TheDad).  I don’t know if the school changed its math curriculum this year or what, but suddenly he’s having a really hard time figuring out what to do with the homework problems.  “I don’t get how to do this,” is a daily refrain around here.  He used to whiz through his math homework, and before this year, my biggest concern was getting him to slow down enough to write the numbers legibly.

I’m not very good at helping him with the homework, either.  I can add, subtract, multiply and divide.  I can even manage fractions and decimals, usually.  But they’re asking the kids to do things in strange ways.  I can find the answer, but not using their method.  It’s strictly “Old Math” for me.

The Disorganized Student

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I was very happy to see that the fourth-graders were required to have “trapper” binders, loose leaf paper, and pocket folders this year. Little Brother has a good handle on academics but not on organization.  In his school, the fourth- and fifth-graders share two teachers for the major subjects, so there is some traveling between classrooms and getting used to two different sets of expectations.  It’s a good way to ease the kids into the middle-school mode.

I figured that since his teachers asked for a particular type of binder, they’d be devoting some time, early in the school year, to good use of this organizational tool.

And week after week, I’d see him come home with all kinds of loose papers stuffed into one of the pockets inside his binder, which also contained his homework planner, pencil case, 200 sheets of looseleaf, 5 dividers, and 3 pocket folders.  The looseleaf?  Unused.  Dividers?  Divided nothing.  Pocket folders?  Empty, except for one which had a paper from Spanish class inside it.  Other Spanish papers were stuffed into that same pocket that held Scholastic book order forms, tests I’d signed, and a homework project due September 27–completed, but never handed in.

One month into the school year, it wasn’t looking like his teachers were doing anything to make sure the students were using the supplies they’d been required to have.

So this morning, since there was no school, I had Little Brother empty out that binder.  He recycled all the papers he no longer needed (most of them).  He put all the Spanish papers into the Spanish folder.  He’s already sort of in the habit of keeping Spanish stuff together, as that teacher encourages that habit in class.  And we labeled one pocket folder “Take Home” and “Hand In.”  He will put anything to come home in the “Take Home” side.  When it’s finished (homework complete, tests signed, forms filled in) it will go to the “Hand In” side.  We’ll see if this works, and I can reinforce this system at home.

We labeled the dividers too, though there’s nothing to divide at the moment.

I hope this helps him.  Next step:  dealing with the “flash cards” that are floating around his backpack.  I like that the teachers encourage the kids to make flash cards when they need to remember important terms or lists.  But they do no good when they wind up in the bottom of the backpack, in a jumble of subjects and topics!  Does anyone have ideas for how he can organize and carry these index cards around?  It’s not like he can put a 3X5 file box in his backpack.

I really think he’d be better off with an accordion file, but I still think that teachers require things for a reason.  There will be conferences with the teachers in mid-November, so I’ll give this another month and see how we roll.  If it’s not working out, I’ll talk with the teachers about it then.

Ideas for organizing a smart but scatterbrained 9-year-old will definitely be appreciated!

It’s Good to Know

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I first started working as a home-instruction tutor when Big Brother was about 3 years old.  I’m still listed as a tutor with one of the 3 districts in which I worked; the other two have contracted out the home tutoring.  While I’m not often assigned students anymore, I do enjoy the one-on-one work with a student who is too ill/injured/postpartum/pregnant/anxious/depressed to attend school.  (Yes, I’ve had students in each of these categories–as well as a few discipline cases and a couple of malingerers.)  There are students I’ve only taught for 2 weeks or so before they return to school.  Most of them, I never hear about again.

Every once in a while I run into one of my students, who lived here in town and had a baby girl during her senior year of high school.  I was paid to be her English tutor, but I also did a good bit of informal encouragement; this young mom was breastfeeding her daughter, keeping up with her classes, and handling quite a bit of the housework.  She later married the father of her baby and they have another child as well; now she’s a stay-at-home mom, although she did work quite hard when her little girl was young, managing a Domino’s Pizza.  Her resilience, determination and dedication served her and her family well, and it touches my heart that every so often, SHE recognizes ME.  She is eager to tell me how things went for her family and I love to hear how well they are all doing.

Today’s local paper features a story about one of my former students.  I taught her for an entire spring, when she first became ill during her junior year of high school.  I remember cancellations due to specialist visits and medical tests.  She never felt well but she tried hard to stick with the schoolwork.  She’s 27 now, married, and recently received a kidney transplant from her older sister.  There are complications with her disease, though.

If you read down to the end of the article, you’ll see that she recently attended a Mass of Healing at the Shrine of St. John Neumann in Philadelphia–and her family welcomes prayers.  It’s lovely to see that in the paper, and my former student Christine can count on mine.  It’s good to know how things are going, and it’s good to know that although 11th-grade English is long over, there is still something I can do to help.

You’ve Got Some ‘Splaining to Do

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Little Brother has a friend here for a sleepover tonight.  Many of his classmates are surprised, when they come over, to learn that Little Brother has a Big Brother, since during the school year, Big Brother isn’t around much.

“Big Brother, when did you graduate from St. Charles?” the friend asked.

“I never went to St. Charles,” Big Brother replied.

The horrified response:  “Why NOT?”

Little Brother explained:  “We didn’t know about it.”

Um, well, that’s really not the story, but Little Brother was too young at just-turned-four to have a grip on the real situation.

Storytime Ooops!

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One of my favorite parts about helping in the school library is storytime. Because the kindergarten and first grade only get 45 minutes to divide between library and computer class, we don’t get to have storytime every week.

Today, though, the librarian was helping to chaperone the 8th grade trip, and I was flying solo in the library. The lesson plan she left for me included storytime for both of the primary-grade classes I’d see. Bonus: I got to pick the story!

The first-graders had let us know earlier this year that they are big fans of Tomie dePaola. Me too–I’ve enjoyed his picture books since the time I used to read them to Big Brother. So I went to the bookshelf and chose one of Big Brother’s favorites: Tom.

In this story, a little boy’s grandfather shows his mischievous side, giving Tommy two chicken feet. Tommy takes them to school and uses them to scare his classmates–and a teacher.

We were just getting to the good part when the first-grade teacher walked into the library to collect her students. And there I was, reading all about how this little boy caused a little playground mayhem with a couple of chicken feet.

So…what do you think the odds are that I’ll be asked to substitute again?

It Can’t Come Soon Enough

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Closing night for the high school’s spring musical (The Wizard of Oz) is tomorrow. We’ve been eating, breathing, and not sleeping the play for over two months now.

I had my reservations about allowing Little Brother to participate, but I went ahead and let him do it. (I also notified his teacher about the certainty of late bedtimes for days on end, and asked her to let me know if there were any problems with schoolwork or behavior. I guess there haven’t been any.)

Middle Sister has been doing everything at school except for showering and sleeping. That’s all she’s had time for at home. She’d get to school around 8 AM, go to class until 2:30, start track practice at 3, eat dinner, and go to play practice until at least 9–and in the last two weeks, as late as 11.

No one’s been around to do any chores. Except for me, when I’m not behind the wheel of the van, shuttling people back and forth to play practice.

The play has been a great experience for both of my kids. Middle Sister has made new friends and learned new skills (she’s helped with stage crew set-building as well as being a cast member.) And Little Brother, apparently, has been “adopted” as the whole cast’s little brother. At those Tech Week Dinners, he could be found dining with the Tin Man, the Scarecrow, the Wizard and the Flying Monkey in Charge. I’d go over to make sure he’d eaten a good dinner, only to find him playing video games on someone’s cell phone or high-fiving a cast member.

So I’m glad that they have both had this opportunity, and I know they’ll be missing the play on Monday when they get to eat dinner here at home and do chores and not have somewhere to be after dinner. But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t looking forward to serving dinner to the whole family, nagging my kids to get those chores done, and not having to get somebody somewhere after dinner.

After all, “there’s no place like home.”