Hey Teacher! How You Sound?

I am looking through the students' binders before I actually grade them. Kind of a "first reading" - if you will - so that I don't get distracted while I grade. Here are the gems so far:

Things that helped my students:

This most helpful thing was the word of the day because instead of just you telling it to us, we used it in sentences.

I like how you eased in to homework. It helped a lot. I think we can now get a little more since now I am used to it.

I liked that you gave us the T.S. Eliot poem because it was challenging.

I like that you let me draw what's in my mind when I'm having trouble writing it. 

You helped us by showing us pictures.

This week, I'd like more time to write in class. I found it helpful that you often had directions on the board as well as saying them. 

Examples of hyperbole:

He's so cheap, he licks other peoples fingers at KFC.

My teacher is so nice, she should win the Nobel Peace Prize.

My teacher is so tall, she bumps her head on the moon.

Examples of personification:

The eraser hungrily ate up the chalky letters, his appetite never satisfied and always ready to try new things without hesitation.

Favorite misspellings of the week:

wore : whore
neighbor: neybior

I Can Tell That We Are Gonna Be Friends.

School has been in session now for 7 days (I subtracted the weekend/holiday). Everyday as I am leaving I think to myself, "Gee, Nikki. You really ought to sit down and write about what you're doing. Write about what happened today." So I sit down. I grab a pen. I open my laptop.

Whatever.

I try to write, but nothing comes.

Okay. That's a lie. Lots of things come to mind when I sit down to write, but I can't put the words together in a fine, prose-like fashion. If I let the words loose, they will come out jumbled and jagged. Unruly and loud. They'll slip and stumble instead of aligning neatly.

Actually, that sounds a lot like my 7th graders.

Because I seem to be unable to write everything I'd like to, I'm just going to write a list of the things I have found interesting thus far:

1.) I did not experience any 1st day jitters. None!
2.) A large, stuffed teddy bear can do a lot to calm down energetic children.
3.) My largest class (40) is easier to contain than my 5th hour class (25).
4.) iPods are not the enemy.
5.) Students will still ask you the directions, even after you have had them repeat the steps back to you at least 3 times...
6.) Sometimes, it's more effective to just use a regular speaking voice than it is to yell.

Actually, let's talk about #6. Something crazy fascinating happened in my last hour, today. They were (understandably) unruly. We had a lot to get through, and 3/4 of the class was waiting on 1/4 of the chatty cathy's to shut up. So, instead of yelling, "Quiet down, folks!" I just started using my "normal" voice. I gave the directions, and then started reading the excerpt we were focusing on. The kids who wanted to hear me actually came and stood in a circle around me (a decision they made totally on their own). This really caught the attention of the kids who had been off task, and they came and joined the circle. Soon, everyone was silent and engaged - we were totally able to complete our learning goal.

So there you have it.
The kids are crazy, the expectations are high, and I am exactly where I am supposed to be.

Grandma's Got This One.

I'm not usually one for church hymns or Jesus-y blog postings. But with all of the chaos in my life, this verse couldn't have come at a better time. 

Be still, my soul: thy God doth undertake
To guide the future, as He has the past.
Thy hope, thy confidence let nothing shake;
All now mysterious shall be bright at last.
Be still, my soul: the waves and winds still know
His voice Who ruled them while He dwelt below.

And yes. I'm sharing the version with David Archuleta singing it. Deal with it.

Growing Up and Up

My mom sent me the most amazing birthday package. Included in it was a file, if you will, of many of the writings (done by yours truly) she'd kept hidden away throughout my childhood and adolescence. Talk about opening a time capsule! I was truly overwhelmed (in a good way) and awash in emotions as I relived some of the weirdest, most exciting and revolutionary times of my life. It was (and continues to be, since I keep staring at it) so interesting to look at my own work from a variety of perspectives: as an emerging teacher I critiqued and laughed at some of my funny grammatical errors...lingering over hand-written essays and laughing at a writing portfolio from the 5th grade with a very grown-up table of contents.

I guess I could keep writing about how all of this makes me feel...but it might be more fun for you if I just share.

Take a look at this picture. First of all: the little girl who can't write her s's? She's going to grow up and become an English teacher someday. And that picture? Yes. That's me. I am like a flower - ever growing. 5 year old me can't write a sentence but - damn - my picture sure is worth 1000 words. (You might need to click on it to see it better. The quality isn't great).

Here's another picture from my kindergarten years. I am clearly expressing something important that involves my mommy and a grocery cart.

Next - the first poem I ever wrote. I remember this day clearly. I was 8 years old and had been inspired by a book I'd just read. I just really wanted to create something amazing. Here it is:

Title: Lovely trees scrape my knees

I love trees they
scrape my knees.
I wear pathes patches on my rashes

Now - we jump forward to the 5th grade to my author portfolio :) The table of contents is as follows:

Fiction stories
Poems
Personal Neratives
Rough Drafts

What an organized child I was!

I wrote an epic story about three cats in a kingdom in which I made my real-life arch nemesis "as fragile as an eggshell" as well as born in jail. I wrote another story in which my uncles and aunts steal a bunch of fossils and go to prison. In yet another, my imagination takes me on a wild ride in which the birds on my non-existent wall paper peel off and fly away, and everyone in the world thinks I'm crazy because of one stupid reporter. But my favorite: the story that include MLK Jr. as my soccer coach.

Here are two short poems I wrote in that portfolio as well:

Me
Athletic, Energetic
Running, Hiding, Seeking
In a big bush
Nervous.

My Little Rose

Spikey little rose
Such a pretty sight to see
There is a small bee.

---

So there you have it. Some of my earliest writings. I have some others (from my more dramatic years), but those are best saved for the vaults. Instead, enjoy this picture of my cuteness:

Hey, Teacher.

Who Stole the Cookies From the Cookie Jar?

That, my friends, is the question of the hour. Only it sounds more like this:

Who stole my great grandmother's ring from my jewelry box?
Who stole the necklace Matt's mother gave him when he was confirmed from his cuff-link box?
Who took our iPods from the office?
Who took all of our change off our shelf?
(I think you're getting a hang of the pattern, here).

Last Tuesday (around Midnight) we arrived back in the U.S. after our marvelous honeymoon in Rome. That same evening, I noticed that my childhood pacifier had been moved from my jewelry box, and I was exceedingly irked. As I went to place it back in the box, I was greeted with several gaps. Some rings were missing! I told Matt, but he was certain I'd misplaced them.

The next day, he noticed the change was gone. And an irreplaceable knife.

We continued to discover things, here and there, that had seemingly disappeared during our trip to Rome. Nothing big. The laptop was still there, the camera, my very expensive flute, my most expensive jewelry - kitchen supplies. The stuff actually worth money was still safely in our clutches.

Let's not kid around, though, they stole thousands of dollars worth of property anyway...without breaking any windows.

But here is what doesn't make sense:
- Why not take all of it? (Don't worry, we have a theory)
- Why not the big stuff?
- Why the jewelry, when women obviously know their jewelry?
- Who were these people?

So here is theory #1:

While we were gone, we had maintenance done on our place. A leak was ruining the ceiling/wall, so they knocked it out, fixed it, replaced the wall. While the landlord denies it (although his story has changed 3 times already), we know of several instances during which these maintenance workers were in the building without the landlord present. The landlord also denies that the workers ever entered our bedroom. Well, tell that to the drywall all over my clothes, and the panel of new wall in the bedroom...

Why they went into the office is beyond me. It also looks as though they were under a time constraint, since they picked and chose what they'd take.

Or: because they do maintenance on multiple properties maybe they feel like it's safer to take little things from multiple places.

Here is theory #2:

We talked to the landcare guy who lives on site. He was saying that as the old tenants (of this apartment) were moving out, three teenage boys snuck into the building. They attempted to take bikes, and sure enough, they succeeded in taking change jars and jewelry from the girls who lived here. No one filed a police report, though, and apparently the boys only got in because the doors were unlocked.

But, while this theory fits somewhat - here are the flaws:
If 3 teenage boys have unlimited time in an unattended apartment, you can guarantee they aren't going to take a few gadgets and gizmos. Not in this city. Also, how would they have gotten in...unless someone unlocked the door for them?

The landlord swears up and down that the doors were never unlocked. That's a lie. The day we moved in, we found the back door unlocked. And, since we know he wasn't with the maintenance folks the whole time...who says they didn't leave it unlocked and go to lunch (since they have no keys)? Maybe, then, nervous boys DID come in and rush - looking for the things that seemed expensive.

---

Obviously, whoever robbed us has no idea of what expensive jewelry looks like. My great grandmother's ring is, in my opinion, priceless. It's the only thing of hers that I've ever owned. But - that being said - monetarily it's worth very little. It's costume jewelry. They chose that ring over a butterfly ring, sitting right next to it, which has opal and ruby in it...(actually worth money). They didn't take my expensive watch. They didn't take my expensive necklaces.

And, obviously, they touched stuff. Let's hope they weren't smart enough to be wearing gloves.

Sock it to 'em.

So close, husband. So close.