10 years of Girl Scouts and still not prepared

Last night I had to compose a test by candlelight.

I suppose it was just a lesson for why you really shouldn't leave off making your tests for the night before. I started it in the afternoon, but then I wanted dinner, and after that I figured I could finish it after Warcraft. Well, we had just signed on when all of the sudden the house fell black and silent. We went outside, only to find that our half of the circle we live on was also dark and silent. My first thoughts went to my partially completed test. I needed it for first period! My laptop only had a little juice left!

Luckily, we had some candles (and wound up taking a trip to Target to get a lantern), so I composed my test on paper before turning on my laptop. Since I didn't sit there thinking, I wound up having just enough power. Phew.

Bernardo Mountain, before and after

It's amazing how much a year can change a landscape. Last July, we biked up the peak of Bernardo Mountain for the first time. Aside from the incredible view, one of the more memorable parts of the ride was a gully set between two stands of trees, creating a tunnel for us to ride though.

When we returned today to ride the trail again, the tunnel had disappeared. Last fall's fires had bunt the trees to cinders (even the stones looked flame-kissed), and the following rains turned the gully into a treacherous crevasse. The whole trail had to be rerouted, lest the hillside erode even more.

Still, there was a stark, post-apocalyptic beauty to the landscape. Grasses and flowers were taking advantage of the water and additional sunlight, adding green, purple, and yellow to the area's red and black palette. From the higher points on the mountain, one could see houses being rebuilt. Life returns to San Diego.

15 days (and counting)

A few weeks ago, I started getting brief flashes of why I thought I wanted to go into teaching in the first place. Not large interludes, mind you, but pleasant moments of student-teacher and overheard student-student interaction. I got to facilitate a little bit of learning, and started thinking that this job does have its moments.

I'm sure this sounds quite nice to all of you out there. "Aww, she finally reconciled herself with her calling." If you thought that, though, you would be wrong. I had come to terms with hating teaching, so the idea that it might, in time, become a bearable and even rewarding profession stirred up a good deal of conflict. What if I did belong in this horrible, stressful, time-consuming profession?

Luckily for me, the past week has totally killed all the warm fuzzy feelings I was having. There has been a school-wide plague of discipline problems, and my classes certainly haven't been excused from the madness. My 9th graders' hormones are apparently going crazy, leading to a good deal of lip, emotional drama, bullying (of my 6th grade students, no less), and drawing penises on chairs while being sent outside for inappropriate comments. The school was TPd again.

We've been trying to crack down a little bit on the discipline. Three of my students were out on suspension today; two for getting in a bloody fight with each other, the third for pot. One of my 7th graders will be out all week, due to a combination of truancy and theft during Saturday school. I'm running a one-woman campaign to see that detentions are enforced (follow up is rather lax). I'm just hoping we all make it to the end of the year. I think we're all counting the days at this point. 15...

Recipe Review: Homemade Bread Crumbs

If I believed in that sort of thing, I would say I must have faced starvation in a past life. Why else would I be so neurotic about throwing away food? Of course, R giving me post-apocalyptic novels to read seems to have only increased that drive to save and hoard food.

In any case, homemade bread crumbs are certainly a more normal expression of that making-food-out-of-leftovers drive. Plus, it totally removes the guilt associated with the heels of bread (or, in this case, a couple of orphaned hot dog buns and some old pita bread).

I'd normally write out the directions for you, but I didn't think I could top the step by step guide, with pictures, I used. The bread crumbs turned out quite nice and crispy, and the whole thing was quite easy. I don't think you'll be seeing me buying breadcrumbs ever again.

Turning students into cacti

No, I haven't discovered some sort of magical formula for turning troublesome children into passive vegetables (aside from TV, that is). I suppose a more accurate statement would be "turning students' money into cacti" or possibly even "obtaining money from your students for fun and profit."

At the bottom of this convoluted chain is the fact that my 6th graders are never ever prepared for class. There are always a few in need of writing utensils, and I'm certain that the majority of the class does not have a sheet of paper to their name. I've got a small supply of writing utensils, many of which I've collected from the classroom after the class has been dismissed, but my students were constantly forgetting to return said utensils after they borrowed them. After a while, I started asking for collateral.

Now, I've heard of some teachers making students leave a shoe when they borrow a pencil, but I really wasn't interested in having a desk full of stinky kid shoes. When they asked what I wanted I simply specified that it was to be something that they would miss, leaving them to figure out what to leave with me. Frequently, I get backpacks and binders, but on one occasion a student gave me their cell phone.

A couple of weeks ago, one of my more chronically unprepared students started using money as collateral. Generally he'll give me a dollar, but on one occasion he gave me five. Unfortunately for him, he's also fairly distracted, so he wound up forgetting about his money on two occasions, leaving me with two dollars. Had he brought me a pencil the next class session, I would have gladly given it back, but he seemed to have forgotten all about it.

So, there I was with two dollars of student money that I didn't really know what to do with. I would have felt a little odd spending it on myself, but at the same time the student gave me the dollar for the express purpose of repaying me for the writing utensil he took. Lucky for me, my guilt was alleviated by another one of my students, who was selling cacti for two dollars as a fund raiser for the softball team. Putting the money back into the school seemed like the most appropriate use for it, plus I got something cute for my garden.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how you turn students into cacti.