The kids in school are always telling me who they are related to. Up in these parts there are many trees that don't branch far. Those are my favorite stories. "I'm my own grandpa. I'm my own grandpa. It sounds funny I know, but it really is so. I'm my own grandpa." Many students will be able to sing that song.
Today I had a cute, and less disturbing, geneology lesson.
Student: Mrs. Grant. Pocahontas was my Great Great Great Great Great Great Great Grandma.
Me: That's nice.
Student: That makes me 50% Indian and 50% Pilgrim. She married a Pilgrim, you know.
Me: Indeed, indeed!
HAHAHAHA. I really love 2nd Graders.
Monday, September 27, 2010
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Have Holes - Will Fill
Yesterday, my Language Arts Class built "Puff Mobiles." These are "vehicles" that are built using a specific number of items. They are totally created by the imagination and skill of the builder. One of the items used was a straw. Some of the students used only a portion of their straws and so little bits dropped to the floor. In the clean-up process not all these pieces were thrown away. Which brings me to part 2 of my story.
In the afternoon, my match class was about to take their first "Math Fact Test." You would think that the students were taking the ACT or LSAT. They were so nervous about this. (Even though they were the +1 and +0 facts. How scary can that be?) As we were just about to start, one of my students begins to plug one nostril and blow air AND snot out the other nostril. He continues doing this at a rapid fire rate. Then he raises his hand and says, "Mrs. Grant. My nose hurts." In my mostdisgusted sympathetic voice I said, "Do you think you need a tissue?" He just looked at me.
Well, that was enough of a lull in the test taking process that now about 10 students need their pencils sharpened. I head back to the sharpener and have "The Nose" come with me. As he walks to the back of the room he says, "I have a straw stuck up my nose." blow blow blow blow blow
"You've gotta be kidding me!" I said right out loud. I told him that I would help him as soon as I got the students started on their tests. He smiled and continues to blow. Then he touched his nose and said, "I can feel it clear up here." That straw was way up there. That's when I realized this was a job for a pair of tweezers and not my tweezers. He would be visiting the Principal.
Three more pencils to go and we would be off to visit "the boss," as he is referred to by my students. "The Nose" grabs a new tissue and scrunches up his face, closes his eyes, and blows harder than he has ever blown before. Out shoots an inch long portion of a straw and plenty of boogers. Suddenly, "The Nose" says, "Hey it doesn't hurt anymore. Is it out?" To this a little girl that had been standing in the pencil line looks up at him and runs her left hand down her right arm and said, "YES," as she wiped all that snot away.
"The Nose" smiled and skipped back to his seat while the little girl and I got some soap, water, and anti-bacterial gel.
Awww! Never a dull moment in 2nd grade.
In the afternoon, my match class was about to take their first "Math Fact Test." You would think that the students were taking the ACT or LSAT. They were so nervous about this. (Even though they were the +1 and +0 facts. How scary can that be?) As we were just about to start, one of my students begins to plug one nostril and blow air AND snot out the other nostril. He continues doing this at a rapid fire rate. Then he raises his hand and says, "Mrs. Grant. My nose hurts." In my most
Well, that was enough of a lull in the test taking process that now about 10 students need their pencils sharpened. I head back to the sharpener and have "The Nose" come with me. As he walks to the back of the room he says, "I have a straw stuck up my nose." blow blow blow blow blow
"You've gotta be kidding me!" I said right out loud. I told him that I would help him as soon as I got the students started on their tests. He smiled and continues to blow. Then he touched his nose and said, "I can feel it clear up here." That straw was way up there. That's when I realized this was a job for a pair of tweezers and not my tweezers. He would be visiting the Principal.
Three more pencils to go and we would be off to visit "the boss," as he is referred to by my students. "The Nose" grabs a new tissue and scrunches up his face, closes his eyes, and blows harder than he has ever blown before. Out shoots an inch long portion of a straw and plenty of boogers. Suddenly, "The Nose" says, "Hey it doesn't hurt anymore. Is it out?" To this a little girl that had been standing in the pencil line looks up at him and runs her left hand down her right arm and said, "YES," as she wiped all that snot away.
"The Nose" smiled and skipped back to his seat while the little girl and I got some soap, water, and anti-bacterial gel.
Awww! Never a dull moment in 2nd grade.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
That's Absolutely WRONG!!!
After last year I was ready for a calm and easy 180 days. The first four days seemed quite blissful - 23 sweet, smiling, and happy children. They smile and raise their hands and play kindly with each other. What could be better? Adding one more adorably cute little girl. She came on Friday, just to see her teacher and find her room. She'd begin on Monday. Poor little thing. Her mom had just died and now she had just moved in with her dad and grandmother, leaving behind her friends and a little brother who was off to live with his father. How sad is that? But, within time, she would heal. A few hugs and smiles and kind words and she would be okay. Right?
Well, no! Life is never that easy. Her mother hadn't just died. While she was out playing in the yard, her mother had decided this life was too hard and her only solution was to end it. When my student came into the house, her mom was missing. Thinking that she was playing, she began a game of Hide and Seek. She found her hanging in a closet. "I tried to wake her up. She was always joking and playing with me. But, this time she wasn't. She wouldn't wake up." That's the conversation we had on our first day together when she asked if anyone else in her class had lost their mom. What do you say to that? How can I help heal those wounds?
Her range of emotions has been exhausting and quite overwhelming! She cries then glares. She sobs and then lashes out at anyone near her. She ties her shoes together and then blames it on friends that aren't there. She sticks her head inside her backpack as if she is hiding from reality. She stares at a picture of her mom all day long or places it on the floor and tries to squash it under her shoe. It is all totally unpredictable.
So, everyday, I wonder what she will be like. Will she be willing to do any work today? Will she cry? Will she scream? Or will she be just like all the other girls? No. She will never be like the other girls. And, what do I do to help that sweet girl?
Never expected this!
Well, no! Life is never that easy. Her mother hadn't just died. While she was out playing in the yard, her mother had decided this life was too hard and her only solution was to end it. When my student came into the house, her mom was missing. Thinking that she was playing, she began a game of Hide and Seek. She found her hanging in a closet. "I tried to wake her up. She was always joking and playing with me. But, this time she wasn't. She wouldn't wake up." That's the conversation we had on our first day together when she asked if anyone else in her class had lost their mom. What do you say to that? How can I help heal those wounds?
Her range of emotions has been exhausting and quite overwhelming! She cries then glares. She sobs and then lashes out at anyone near her. She ties her shoes together and then blames it on friends that aren't there. She sticks her head inside her backpack as if she is hiding from reality. She stares at a picture of her mom all day long or places it on the floor and tries to squash it under her shoe. It is all totally unpredictable.
So, everyday, I wonder what she will be like. Will she be willing to do any work today? Will she cry? Will she scream? Or will she be just like all the other girls? No. She will never be like the other girls. And, what do I do to help that sweet girl?
Never expected this!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)