Phat Teacher

Remember back, long before you actually went to college? Back then, you could be anything you wanted to be. Your future was a blank slate. Then, at some point, you made a decision to become a teacher. Why? you now ask yourself? What was it about teaching that made it sounds like a better idea than, say a toy tester or a candy maker? What made it sound like it would be more enticing than a lion tameror even a parole officer? Because as I see it, after 28 years, there are days when I ponder that question. Today being one of them!

I didn’t always want to be a teacher. Truth be told, I NEVER wanted to be a teacher. But it all happened so fast…sort of like when a turtle gets mugged by a couple of snails! I had it in my head that I wanted to go to college, but there was no particular field that really drew me in…until orientation week. 

At the college I attended, Bemidji State University, you had to declare a major before you started Freshman year. I was sitting next to my boy friend, at the time…currently my first husband. I tossed my head back onto the back of the couch…and sighed loudly. “What?” he asked impatiently. ”I have to declare a major, and I have no clue what I want to do for the rest of my life.” He ignored me and continued to fill out his paperwork. I slid onto the floor and sighed louder. “What?” he asked more loudly. Rather indignant, I replied, “I just told you! I don’t know what to put down as my major!” Again, he continued to work on his own papers. I launched myself across his lap and looked up at him. “I don’t know what to be when I grow up!” I whined. He pushed me off of his lap and smoothed out his own registration papers – the ones that I had crumpled in my dramatic episode. “Just pick something easy. Be a teacher. They have an easy job.” Still lying on the floor, I sighed again. “Fine. How hard could that be?”

Needless to say, we were both very wrong. But don’t worry…he got his due! As the four years of college passed, he somehow got it into his thick head to switch his major from journalism to education. His reasoning: “Well, now that we’re married…(we got married after Freshman Year)…we could save money by sharing books.” Isn’t that just the best reason you’ve ever heard of for changing your major from something you really loved? Can you say cheap?

Tonight, he was late getting home from school. (He is now an elementary principal.) I called and left a message on his office phone and his cell phone, and I sent a text. About half an hour later, the phone rang. “Still at school. The police just left.” That was all I got, but it didn’t sound like a good day to me. I smiled! Huh! It looked like his bad day trumped my bad day.

Lately, at school, there have been lots of days like that: police, rain soaked carpets, moldy ceiling tiles, kids throwing up, kids absent, etc… It’s always something.

BUT… even with all that yucky stuff, it definitely adds interest to my days. Today, was not the best day for either one of us…but tomorrow might be. You just never know. And that’s what keeps me coming back…day after day for 173 days a year…for 28 years…for 8 more. That and the big, fat teacher paycheck!

Mary…the Phat/Fat Teacher

Every night when I exit the school building, I leave perfectly planned lessons on my desk. They fit the state and federal standards, have some sort of an attention grabber, an objective, guided practice, and independent practice (homework)…except of course, for Fridays. (Who wants homework on Friday?) Anyway, by the time I get to class, my lessons have completely changed…nothing is as I had planned. Some little crumb of an idea begins irritating my brain until I finally give in and everything I had planned has completely fallen away.

Take today’s lesson for example. I was supposed to introduce exponents…you know 4 to the power of 3. Well, I had this great lesson all planned out when something on the shelf behind my desk caught my eye. (Keep in mind that I am abstract random, ADHD, and a whole series of other things that aren’t necessarily perfect teacher qualities.) Anyway, I immediately scooped two volunteers out of their chairs, grabbed a loaded brown paper bag from my shelf, and dragged both bag and “victims” into the hallway. Quickly explaining my directions to the two students…I dashed back inside to “set the stage”.

I leapt up onto the wooden box that sits in the front of my room, and grabbed a whiteboard marker (a makeshift microphone) from the ledge up front, and began shouting. “Alright you guys! We have a couple of visitors who have just flown in from across the country. Give it up for “THE BASE”! The kids, getting caught up in my spirit, clapped and hooted wildly as one of my “visitors” flew into the classroom wearing a green and silver lame’ superhero costume. He landed in the front of the classroom and in a loud and extremely low voice announced, “I am THE BASE! I am a superhero, and I am here to fight the evil-doers of the world.” Again, the kids cheered as he continued. “Periodically, I need help from my superhero brothers.” Hearing this, a second superhero flew into the room and landed next to the first.

To make a long story short…the BASE BROTHERS were the superheroes, and the “secret number” (the exponent) was the number of extra superheroes needed to destroy the evil-doers in any given situation. (The power is a secret…therefore written very small…so the enemy doesn’t know how many BASE BROTHERS will attack.)

After a few minutes, the kids completely understood how to lay the problem out and how to calculate the answer. Monday, I will introduce the Powers of 10…and the evil villain who, when multiplied by a decimal, sends us sprawling backwards a bit.

So much for my originally devised lesson plans: Exponent Baseball and Extravaganza Challenge. THE BASE superheroes stole the show.

Anyway, I was telling my husband (an elementary principal) about the impromptu powers lesson. He laughed and said, “Where in the world do these ideas come from? Do you just pull them out of your butt?” I hope that’s not where they come from, but maybe if we could just harness a little bit more teaching fun…and a lot less drill and killwhen teaching…kids might actually start seeing us (their teachers)  as superheroes instead of evil villains. They might see us as fun rather than fun-suckers!

So, go out there and find a superhero costume or two. Leave it in your classroom. Wear it occasionally…the kids won’t recognize you behind that goofy mask and shiny lame’. But best of all, they might just have some fun while learning something important.

Mary…the Phat/Fat Teacher

You know, they aren’t calling it the Swine flu anymore; it’s now called H1N1…or, as my kids refer to it, “The Hini (high-nee) flu”. I figure that is probably the most accurate name!

Well, needless to say, I didn’t get the Hini flu, but I got something else from one of my little darlings: the worst cold imaginable. It started with a sneeze…not mine, a student’s. Those little germs marched up my arm, across my shoulder, up my neck and face, and into my nostrils. And, there, they set up camp. I’ve tried to cough them out, sneeze them out, blow them out, and they will NOT LEAVE! (Just like children who return home after college!)

Well, today, I went to school, anyway…feeling a bit like I was dying. Why? Because sometimes it is harder to write plans for a sub than it is to just be miserable for 8 hours. Ah, but you ask, “Weren’t you afraid you’d make your kids sick?” You know, I thought about that…but then I realized that the kids you want to be gone a day or two, have immune systems made of iron, and those who are chronic absentees…were already gone anyway. So, I figured it was pretty safe to spend the day at school.

Okay…so, now you know just how sick I am…except you don’t know what happens to me when I am on Sudafed and other cold medicines. So, let me share some of my past history with you. A couple years ago, I created a worksheet for my World History class. I made it quickly (for my sub)-on my deathbed, as I was certain I was dying.  Seriously…dying! I probably should have after what I did. The worksheet…which was supposed to be titled “The Roman Public Forum”…wasn’t! Across the top of the worksheet in all capital letters was “THE ROMAN PUBIC FORUM”. Obviously, in my medicated state, that was one important letter I left out! The kids didn’t know if they were supposed to be learning about Roman history or Roman Family Life.

Again, a couple of years ago, and again on cold medicine, I was talking to the kids in math class about Function Tables. A good topic, but not for someone who was probably overdosed on Sudafed. I missed the N in function…and the word took on a whole new meaning…FUC-TION! Again…MATH family education.

Last year, in the same stupor, we were doing an activity in which all the kids would answer a question that had been placed on their desk. Then, they would get up and move to another question, and so on and so forth. It was a great lesson to get them up and get them moving. Except, as I was trying to explain to them the order we would move, I said, (with the door wide open…and other classroom doors open) “Okay, now shit to the left.” I meant SHIFT to the left, but it was worth a few laughs…from all of the classrooms.

Cold medicine and teaching is just not a good combination. As I write this, I am on a heavy dose of meds…and I can feel the white lights and the floating feeling. It’s a good thing computers have a delete key, as I have been using it all night. I sometimes wish life had one. There are several moments out there that I wish I could have deleted…above is only three of those instances. DELETE! It’s my best friend.

So, here’s hoping you are not sick, not taking cold medicine, and can function a lot better than I can if you are. (Notice I remembered the N.) So, I am heading off to bed, as it’s the only place I feel completely safe on these meds. (I am a sissy. I cannot hold my cold medicine!)

Mary…the Phat/Fat teacher

So, here we  are with 19 days of school in. (Wow! It seems like I’ve gotten up at 5:00 a lot more days than that!) Of course, look at the bright side: we only have 154 more to go.

Anyway, in those 19 days, we have experienced a full moon, a serious drop in barometric pressure, and several “tech meetings” at the local pub…and every one of those makes the kids go crazy. The first two are for obvious reasons, but the last one just doesn’t seem to have a good reason. It’s a well known fact that the volume of their voices somehow seems to correlate with the intensity of your headache. (I unboxed a 500-count bottle of Advil and a 1000-count bottle of Tylenol, today. I also opened a 5,000,000-count bag of M&Ms. I should be good for the year!)

Anyway, at this point, even the new teachers have muddled through the honeymoon period and are headed directly into the fire. Therefore, they are now REAL TEACHERS. Even perky little Linette from workshop week has lost a bit of perk!  She’s getting wrinkles…and she’s earned every one of them! She’s a real teacher, now!

And so, that being said, the following is my take on what makes you a REAL TEACHER.

REAL TEACHERS…
1)     Wear clothing that repels fluids!
2)     Ingest mega doses of caffeine daily…pumped intravenously!
3)     Use school appropriate language…when in earshot of children.
4)     Eat an entire meal…and use the bathroom…in 13.7 minutes or less.
5)     Can tell there’s a full moon without ever looking outside.
6)     Understands the statement “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree!”
7)     Can fend off the attacks of angry parents without a club!
8)     Own stock in Advil, Tylenol, or Anheuser Busch.
9)     Shop at the “Lost and Found”.
10)   Play well with others!

So, congratulations! We’ve all made it through the first month of school. Just think, we only have another 8.5 to go! But if you take out prep time, vacation days, sick days, workshop days, and trips to the coffee shop…that only leaves about 8 months! That’s doable! Just make them good ones.

Mary…the Phat/Fat Teacher