Student Teachers

I've been subbing all week for a bunch of teachers who have student teachers.  Tuesday I was in a science class and the student teacher was fabulous.  It seemed like he had been teaching for years.  He was teaching about genomes and alleles and genetics, and kept using "Let's say your parents mate and blahblahblah" as an example for how the offspring would turn out with blue eyes or red hair or whatever.  I LOVED how every single kid flinched every time the guy said the words "your parents mate."  I mentioned that after the first class and he was totally aware of it and was doing it on purpose.  Brilliant.  Despite their squeamishness, the kids loved him.  All I had to do all day was sit in the room and play Angry Birds.

Monday was a tough day because I was in one of my favorite third grade rooms and their student teacher was horrendous.  One example:   She said she wanted to teach math because it is her specialty. (At this point she should be teaching everything all day, but her cooperating teacher won't let her.) It was a lesson on multiplying and dividing 5s.

The first thing they were supposed to do was copy down these words: division, divider, divisor and quotient.  This was written up on the smart board and she told them to copy it.  She didn't tell them where to copy it (on a blank sheet of paper? in their math journals?) but to give her the benefit of the doubt, I'm guessing they copy vocab on a regular basis and knew where to put it.  But they didn't do it.  Nobody copied it because she barreled ahead with the lesson.  They didn't even have time to get out paper to write the stuff down.

She rushed through a few boring word problems, never once using the words division, divisor, divider or quotient; only stopping long enough to occasionally bitch at someone for not paying attention.  She wouldn't listen to them if they had questions, and she said things like, "Don't come ask me how to do this later because I won't tell you."  You won't?!  Nice TEACHER.

The kids were DONE with math after that lesson.  The scheduled time for math was up and it was clearly time to move on.  She tried to forge ahead with another lesson but the kids simply couldn't do it.  The first lesson was too torturous to even think of starting a new one.  The teacher sat up at the front of the class and pouted and said, "Oh great, now I'M going to get yelled at because we didn't do this lesson.  Thanks a lot, guys."

Who does that?!

The highlight of the day was when the kids were doing a phonics worksheet on homophones.  They were supposed to choose the right word to put in the blank in a sentence.  One girl called me over because she was having trouble with one of the problems.  The homophones were "hare/hair" and the sentence was "Gladys washes her __________ every day."  The little girl said, "I don't know what to put." and I thought she wasn't sure what a hare was so I told her it was a wild bunny.  She said, "I know what a hare is, I don't know which one to put in the space because they both make sense."  I almost collapsed from the cuteness.  I can't express how much I love the image of a little girl bathing a jackrabbit every single day.  I said, "Well, I suppose you could wash a hare every day but I bet you'd have a lot of scratches!"

("What? I always walk like this.")

Two Conversations

Conversation I had yesterday with a group of third graders during their snack time:

Nick: I lost a tooth last night and I got a two-dollar bill from the tooth fairy!

Me:  Lucky!

Winnie: I tricked the tooth fairy once.  I gave her my dog's tooth.

Me: (gasp) DON'T DO THAT!  The toothfairy HATES being tricked!

Winnie:  She gave me a dollar.

Me:  Well, maybe she accepts puppy teeth as well children's teeth, but you guys better be careful.

Matt: Why?  What's the big deal?

Me:  One time my daughter found a tiny white rock that was sort of tooth-shaped and she tried to trick the tooth fairy by hiding it under her pillow.  You know what the toothfairy did when she found it?

Matt, Winnie, Nick:  What?

Me:  She PUNCHED Kira in the stomach!

Winnie:  No she didn't!

Me:  Yes, she did.  Kira learned her lesson.

Nick:  I put a rock under my pillow once and I didn't get punched.  I don't believe you.

Me:  Well, maybe she didn't punch you.  Maybe she pooped in your corner instead.

Winnie:  Oh gross!

Nick: She didn't.

Me:  Are you sure?  She's very small.

Nick:  I'm sure.  I would have noticed because my dog pooped on the floor once and I found it right away.

Me:  Look, all I'm saying is that it's not smart to mess with a magical being that collects discarded body parts.  Be careful.  

The story spread like wildfire.  I honestly didn't think it was that big a deal when the words were coming out of my mouth, but when I heard the story being whispered over and over, "The toothfairy punches you if you trick her!"  "The toothfairy POOPS in your house if she's mad!  Mrs. L. said so!", I thought maybe that wasn't the best story to tell the kids.  Oh well.  They'll forget about it.  No biggy.  Later I learned that parent/teacher conferences were that night.  Crap.  

Conversation I expect to have later today:

Mrs. G.: (the third-grade teacher I was subbing for yesterday) We had parent conferences last night.

Me:  Oh yeah,  how did they go?
  
Mrs. G.:  Nick's mom asked me about the substitute who told Nick that the toothfairy poops in their rooms.

Me:  ............ oh, heavens to Betsy!

Mrs. G.:  I didn't really know how to respond.

Me.:  Oh....wow....  I wonder where Nick would ever come up with something like that?

Mrs. G.:  He told her it was "Mrs. L."  

Me:  Oh.  Come to think of it, we did talk abou the toothfairy and how vengeful she can be.  I might have mentioned that pooping in corners was in her wheelhouse.  

Mrs. G:  Next time you talk about the toothfairy's mean streak, maybe leave out the pooping. 

Me:  Noted.  

Why I Love Third Graders

I have been teaching in a third grade class all week.  I love them.  They are so fun and cute.  Sure, they have their annoying moments, like the three (or five) kids I call "the questioners" (in my head) because they walk up to ask me a question about absolutely everything.  Like this: 

Questioner:  Mrs. Lindahl, what do we do with our papers when we are done?
Me:  What have you been doing with your papers when you finish them from the beginning of the year?
Questioner:  Put them in the done basket?
Me:  Yes.

Or:

Questioner:  Mrs. Lindahl, what time are we having lunch today?
Me:  What time do you have lunch every day?
Questioner:  11:45?
Me:  Yes. 

Today we brought the kids on a field trip, which is usually a sub's NIGHTMARE because what if you don't know the kids in the class?  What if you don't know the logistics of the field trip?  What if the field trip is to a swamp with kindergarteners, and you only wore some cute little maryjane shoes, not knowing that you were going to be fishing kindergarteners out of a freezing swamp most of the morning?  See what I mean?  (seriously, it really happened, but they didn't call it a swamp, they called it a "nature center."  It was a swamp.)

Our field trip today was to the symphony and it was so fantastic!  There were about 2000 kids there and the program was geared to the elementary school student.  The kids had a great time and so did I. 

Anyway, one of the reasons I love third graders so much is because they are so weird.  I told them yesterday that it is customary to wear nice clothes to the symphony.  A girl came this morning, worried, and said to me, "Mrs. Lindahl, is it okay if I keep my sweatshirt on at the symphony today because I forgot to take off my pajama shirt when I was getting dressed."  She was wearing a pajama shirt, dress pants, and a sweatshirt.  How adorable is that?!

All week a bunch of them have been singing the words "salty nuts" in a very dissonant, sing-song voice.  It seemed a little strange, and slightly inappropriate, but I didn't say anything because I liked it, and obviously it is something they learned in school.  I learned about it today.  At the symphony the trumpet player talked about Dizzy Gillespie and how he wrote a song called "Salt Peanuts" and they played it for us.  Ohhhhhh!  Salt Peanuts!  I'm sure glad I didn't say anything about the inappropriateness of singing "salty nuts" and then having to explain to nine-year-olds why I find the words salty nuts inappropriate. (Here's why.)

I got a picture from a student today (I get pictures every day), and this one just sums up the wonderful weirdness of the typical third grader.  Here it is:

It's a picture of a girl and her giant dog, Bob.  Bob is apparently 100 feet tall and judging by his eyebrow and his speech bubble, he's not a very friendly 100 foot dog.  A squirrel (squerl, OMG!) is talking with the girl and complimenting her 100 foot, growling, angry dog.  Okay, for one thing, why would anyone want a 100 foot dog.  Can you imagine the poops?  Yuck.  And another thing, why is that masochistic squirrel anywhere near a hundred foot, angry dog, and where did it learn to speak English?  It doesn't look like Bob is tied to anything, so I imagine that in the split second after the snapshot of this picture, the squerl was torn to gory shreds.