Tales from School

I subbed two days this week. Ahh, good times. Some amusing moments . . .

• Jeff wanting to tell me a funny story. I made him wait until after he had finished his assignment, then he produced this: "Yesterday I lost my wallet. When I lost it, it had nothing in it. Today I found it, and it had $20 in it! . . . I'm going to start leaving wallets around." I questioned him on the veracity of this tale, but he seemed quite earnest in telling me. Later, Mr. McD. pointed out that I should have asked Jeff if he was sure that it was his wallet that he found.
• Austin's response to me telling him to be quiet again (and again): "[Talking for me] is a disease . . . no, it's an infatuation." "I have no doubt," I responded.
• Sarah's response after I caught her with her cell phone out right after I had told her to put it away: "I'm addicted to it!"
• Elias, after I watched him grab another kid during my caf duty and told him to stop: "I didn't do it!" "I watched you do it!" I said. "I didn't do it," he maintained, "my hands did it."
• Then there was the conversation with Kya over my brother, her teacher: "What was it like growing up with Mr. S.? Was he a fun kid? Or was he really annoying?"
   "Yeah, he was a fun kid. He had a quirky sense of humor, kind of like he does now."
  "Was he an awkward kid?"
  "Hmmm. Define awkward."
  "You know, like, awkward. I picture him being sort of an awkward kid."
  "Well, he had his moments, but probably no more than the average person."
  "What did he want to be when he grew up?"
  "Hmmm. Wow, that's a hard question. I don't really remember."  Oh, I know, a ball boy for the Celtics. Well, at least for a little while."
  "Was a history geek? Like, did he go around trying to find out the answers to history questions?"
  "Um, no. Definitely not."
  "Does he have a girl friend?"
  "Oh, now that's classified information."
  "It is? Why?"
  "Well, you should ask him yourself."
  "I wouldn't ask him that [horrified expression]."
  "Why not? So you ask me instead?"
  "Yeah!"
• And the conversation today with another of his students when I was standing outside in the park with Chad's class for the emergency evacuation drill (it was a mod when I had no students): "He's your brother, right?"
  "Yes, he's my brother. I've known him all my life."
  "Who's older?"
  "Well, if I've known him all my life . . ."
  "Then you're older."
  "Yes!"
  "Did you pick on him when you were growing up?"
  "Yes."
  "Good."
  "Actually, I still pick on him . . . or tease him, at least."
  "Good."
  (I think she said the final "good," but I wouldn't stake my life on it.)
• And then there was pretty much the whole Mod D today that was funny. Early on, Kimbo Slice showed up again. He usually mysteriously signs the sign-in sheet for this mod when I am subbing, even though the largest person in the room is probably 5'10 and weighs 170. This time he signed in orange marker. "Ah, Kimbo Slice is in class again today," I noted.
  "It's not me," Bryan announced, "I wrote my name in pencil" (waving his pencil). (It's always Bryan, and I figured this out a while back, but now I know to pretend to be stumped.)
• A little while later, they asked me, "Why does Mrs. M. always give us tests on the days that she is away?"
  "It's because she doesn't want to listen to us complain about them," one surmised. (This was a very fine guess, but I'm pretty sure that's not the reason!)
  "Actually, the reason is because so many subs are not competent to actually teach you guys, so the teachers have to leave them something to do that they can handle.
  They looked at me blankly for a few seconds, so I think I went on, "They're not very smart."
  Then one asked, "Is that why they hire you?"
• One couldn't figure out the question on his sheet about segregation, which launched a conversation about segregation. "They say that Central isn't segregated, but it is," Kyle announced. "Just go to the cafeteria! All the blacks and Hispanics at one table, all the preppy white girls at another table, all the jocks at another table, all the Bosnians at another table . . . . Then there's the Goth corner. . . . It's definitely segregated!"
  "So what would you think if the teachers try to force desegregation?"
  "If the teachers gave us little pieces of paper at the door to say where we sit," Bryan said, "there would be a riot."
  "I'd say leave us alone!" chipped in Eddie.
  Hmmm. I didn't try to make any further point.
  Bryan had a different application for segregation: "When I have a car shop, I'm going to segregate it--all the red cars here, all the blue cars here."
• Then there was trying to stop Eddie from getting an answer from Bryan's paper. "Eddie, stop looking at Bryan's paper! That would be like you asking me to lift weights for you, so that you could get stronger. It doesn't work that way!"
  "I don't lift weights," Eddie replied.
  "Well, okay, what sport do you play?"
  "I'm on my off season."
  "Well, what sport?"
  "Football."
  "Okay, well then it would be like you asking me to go to practice for you and you expecting to improve!"
  "I don't go to practice. Well, I go to practice and learn the plays and then leave."
  "And you play football here? . . . You must not get much playing time if you don't go to practice."
  "I play all the games."
  Oh, dear. This was only getting worse. So much for my analogy on why not to get the answers from someone else!
• I think this conversation led to the one about atrophy. "If you don't use your brain, it will atrophy," I told them.
  Bryan held up his hands and moved them slowly together. "Smaaall words."
  So then we had a little vocab lesson on the meaning of atrophy. "When you don't use a muscle, it gets weaker, and that's atrophy," I explained. "You all, for example, use your mouth muscles a lot, so there's no chance of them atrophying." I don't even think they caught the jab. I drew a figure on the board and labeled it "Bryan's brain--atrophied?" I erased it soon, lest another teacher walk by and wonder what educational influence I was having on the students.
  "But the brain is not a muscle," Tyler pointed out . . . "See, I said something wrong with her argument." Tyler is proud of himself when he does something well.
  I caught myself at this point and remembered to remind them to work on their papers more. I'm not sure why these kids think they are not capable of doing harder work. They are great at reasoning everything but their school work!
• Me to Bryan about something he was saying or doing: "Stop while you're ahead."
  "Okay!" he trumpeted, holding up his unfinished paper.
• The sweet moment came when I told them I wouldn't be subbing the next time Mrs. M was out because I'd be overseas looking at teaching jobs. "Why can't you just teach here?" one asked. I explained that I couldn't because I don't have my teaching certificate here. "Why can't you just get it?" Tyler wanted to know. "You can just come back here and teach us," they told me. Bryan proceeded to explain why I was a good sub. "You're nice, and you communicate. I don't work for other subs. They just kick me out."
• Bryan: "If you come in again, and you tell me when you are coming, I'll get a stuffed bear and paint him black and set him here and put a name tag on him that says 'Kimbo Slice,' so you can see where he's sitting."
  
  I wish I were coming back to these classes this year. I'd like to meet the new and improved Kimbo Slice. And I'm going to miss those kids.