Semicolons Are Sexy and Other Findings

Attention, parents!  If there is one thing, just ONE thing you could reinforce with your child at home, it has got to be capitalizing the first word in a sentence and putting a period at the end.  I assume, all of you know why punctuating the written word is important.  However, my students do not.  I read through their work everyday and still....STILL...at 13 years old, we are still not routinely using capital letters, and correct ending punctuation.  It sort of blows me away.

Today, I taught how one would appropriately use a semicolon.  Yes, I'm admitting it here and now, I taught something today that is not explicitly outlined in the Common Core State Standards.  Call me a rebel.  Actually, call me confused.  I constantly feel confused.  I'm lost in a world where on the one hand I see all of these lofty Common Core goals, and on the other hand, I see the students sitting before me, and I know that until I teach some "core" essentials in writing, we cannot move on to bigger and better things.  Hence, the lesson on semicolons.  We have been working on simple sentences (independent clauses), as well as compound sentences.  By the way, just uttering the mere phrases 'independent clause' and 'compound sentence,' sends them into orbit.  You would literally think I was speaking French to them.  The thing is, I know, KNOW they have been taught this stuff before.  This truth revealed itself to me during my lesson today.

As I launched in on the job of the semicolon, I heard giggling and whispers behind me.  "Good Lord, what now?" I was thinking.  I turned around and innocently, and politely, asked what was so funny about the semicolon?  More giggling ensued.  Seriously?  Finally, a brave soul volunteered on behalf of the class, "Semicolons....you know...they're a sexy beast!"  Huh.  Well, I was not expecting that.  (I feel like I'm going to say that a lot this year.)  Unable to see the relation, I asked them to explain where they got the idea that semicolons were a sexy beast.  They simply responded, "Mrs. Fine's class."  Yup, sounds totally normal. (says sarcastic inner-monologue)  Now, you have to know Mrs. Fine to truly appreciate this story, but I guess I just never really pictured her teaching semicolons to the likeness of a "sexy beast."  I had to get to the bottom of this.  Right away, I emailed her.

"Hey Liz,  quick question...I was just reviewing semicolon usage with my students and the kids were quite excited about the "SEXY BEAST SEMICOLON!" They referred me to you.  I'm oh-so-curious..."

Not too much longer she replied to my message.

"Ahhh the semi-colon!  Classiest punctuation mark in our language, Judy.  If used correctly, it can make anyone's writing incredibly sexy!  Don't you agree???"

Have I mentioned, yet, how much I love the people I work with?  Why, yes, I do agree with Mrs. Fine!  However, I am clearly a little jealous that she came up with this clever bit before I did.  I will say she's had a 'few' more years of practice than I have.  I count myself incredibly fortunate to be able to learn from her talents, wit, and teaching tips.

So, if you learn but one thing today, let it be this:  semicolons ARE sexy!

Free Time Galore

With all of these blogging updates lately, you'd think I had oodles of time to kill. That is absolutely false. I have been working until 8, 9 or 10 o'clock pm each and every night in the last week. Last night, I was up until midnight toying with ideas for the coming week. Granted, this isn't always focused work. There's a lot of research going on behind my lesson plans and I'm really trying hard to link the Common Core to each and everything that happens in my classroom. I'm quickly learning how overwhelming that is becoming, but I'm remaining hopeful that that will pay off. En toto, I've been pretty lame for the last few weeks. Awhile ago, I had posted on Facebook about how wonderful my classroom looked. I realize I'm very humble and modest when it comes to these things. Actually, my pride in my classroom is overwhelming. Dare I say it, I don't even think one thing has been stolen....yet. Anyway, I thought I'd post some pictures so those of you following along can see what I decided to do this year. If any ideas look familiar, it's because you've seen them on Pinterest. Nothing is original here!

Before photo...giant mess.  The picture does not do it justice.

Student Study Center/Materials Center

I have no clue if the computer works.  I should try that soon.

Please try to ignore the fact that I can't center items freehand.  This drives me crazy everyday. 

I have since outlined the words "Be Prepared" and "Be Positive" on the yellow canvases.

The chalkboard painted canvas, used for magnetic poetry, has proved to be popular amongst my language arts classes.  The giant bulletin board will be used to display student work once we get that going.

Period 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 and 6 turn in baskets.  My featured artwork has also proved quite the conversation starter!

My front bulletin board reads: Bks R Lke Rly Lng Txt Msgs.  My students have all claimed they cannot read it.  As if! 

This is the view when you walk in the door. 

Outside of the class.  I have some other ideas of what to do with this space, but I've really lost my desire for decor, at this point in time. 

A special message for my clock watchers.  

That's all there is!  Hope you've enjoyed the tour!  Thanks for stopping by ;o)

The Day Two 7th Graders Went to Fisticuffs

Apparently, I spoke too soon. Friday brought about a day full of reviewing expectations for all 6 periods. By the end of the day, I felt like a crazy person, thinking, "Wait, did I tell you guys this already?" I have a feeling I'll be saying that a lot. Not only that, but throughout the day, as I went through my powerpoint presentation, I couldn't help but think of Mr. Anderson, my dear high school health teacher. How many times did we mock him for literally saying the exact same thing class period after class period? You could walk into first period at 23 after, and walk into fourth period at the same time marker, and he would be saying the exact same sentence. The man was gifted. I don't think my talk was quite that repetitive but some of those poor kids had to sit through it three times on Friday. Youch. We ended the day with an all-school assembly where yours truly was selected to participate in a "What Not To Wear" skit. Luckily, I got to play Stacey from What Not To Wear and I didn't have to model any trashy outfits. Bullet dodged. In the assembly, our student body sits according to homeroom. If you've been keeping up on the blog, you know that my homeroom needs to be constantly monitored. I watched them from afar, for awhile, but then after the hat swapping and disruption, realized I needed to be much closer, and moved to sit on the bottom bleacher of my group. My high fliers were sitting in the very farthest row away from me and I was skeptical of having my back turned to them. As the assembly was winding down, the principal decided our student body needed to practice the quiet signal a few times before they were to be dismissed. It was approximately 2:13 when I watched the principal turn speechless in front of me, her eyes grew large, and were focused on the precise location of where my high-fliers were sitting. I jumped up so fast, and turned around to face them. As I turned, I heard one of my students yell, "Hey! There's a fight up here!" At those words, I busted between students telling them to move out of the way, so I could get to the top bleachers. Yeah, because we all know if there is someone that should respond to a crisis, it's me. I am not even sure where the reaction came from. I think it has to do with all my days in day treatment, that my reaction was almost automatic. When I got to the top, I was conflicted with feelings. At once, I saw blood spatter all over the back bleacher, which made me feel a bit worried. But, then, it dawned on me, not a single one of my high fliers was involved in this! I was dealing with two seventh graders, and one of my students was actually trying to help hold back one of the students. Whew! I grabbed the culprit by the arm, and could feel him violently shaking underneath my arm. I applied pressure with my arm, in hopes that this would calm him. His breath was rapid, and he was so flustered, he couldn't even utter an intelligible comment. We made our way to the bottom of the bleachers, and he was promptly handed off to the assistant principal. Meanwhile, another teacher was with the student with the bloody nose. I'm still not entirely sure what happened, but the witnesses I spoke with, said that the kid who got punched was poking and provoking the boy that eventually hit him. They were all sort of goofing around at the beginning of the assembly, so somewhere along the line, somebody crossed the line. I didn't end up learning what administrative consequences both, or either, of the boys were dealt. I finished up my work and headed to the Hop Valley tasting room. It seemed like the only reasonable way to end the day. Looking forward to the excitement of next week, already!

Week One and Done

Actually, the week isn't technically over. I'm really banking on living through tomorrow to make the title truly accurate. Middle school is something else! Let me tell you what! Our first day of school was really just a half day of school. Since I have only 8th graders, I only had kids from 11:45-2:15. That was pretty sweet. I met my homeroom class that I had been warned about. The rumors circulating about these kids were incredible. I mean, I don't want to make them out to be "angels" but I think there is some potential there. Yes, I realize it is the first week of school. My hopeful meter is on overdrive, for sure. Tuesday and Wednesday consisted of a very strange schedule that no one could really understand, least of all, me. On Tuesday I messed up the schedule so bad, I ended up having my homeroom for two periods in a row. That is not a mistake I will ever make again. Class ended with me saying, "Okay, that was the longest two hours of all time. You don't have to see me, and I don't have to see you for the rest of the day, thank God!" I think they enjoy my sarcasm. I saw some grins and chuckles as they headed out the door. The kids were supposed to be rotating through all the different classrooms to do activities on different topics such as; organization, filling out planners, dress code, respecting authority, etc. After lunch I was out in the hall helping kids figure out which class they needed to get to, when I saw some students milling around outside my classroom. I walked down there and lo and behold, there was the majority of my homeroom. I almost started crying. I went in there and exclaimed, "What are you guys doing here!?" They laughed, but insisted they thought they were supposed to return to homeroom after lunch. I got them to where they needed to be and all was well again. I spoke with several fellow teachers after school about this debacle. In talking with one teacher, I realized that, the behaviors of my homeroom aren't outrageous. They're just...bizarre. It's like, "Hey, you two, quite playing footsie." "You two, stop flirting during my instruction." "Hey don't use that kind of language." "Whoa, where are you going?" It's just like a million little fires going at all times. The worst part is, when you redirect them, they don't feel what they should. I mean, I ask them to quit playing footsie with each other, and I feel embarrassed for them. I feel ashamed for them. I feel upset for them. They don't act like they feel anything. It's like, listen, I can't live your life AND mine. You guys are going to have to bear some of this burden....sheesh....It's exhausting. At the 900th hour of teaching respect to authority, a teeny tiny 6th grader showed up at the gym doors. I asked him where he was supposed to be and clearly he was lost and confused. He said that the choir teacher sent him to the big gym. He didn't quite know how to pronounce his homeroom teachers name, which made it virtually impossible to track down his class. At this point in our conversation, I wasn't quite convinced he even knew his own name, he was so frazzled. I convinced him to walk with me toward the seventh grade wing, and continued to try to ask him clarifying questions about what he had already done in the day, people in his class, etc. In this midst of this conversation, he says, "But, but...but....but...I ordered scrambled eggs for breakfast." This was way out of left field, and I'm not entirely sure how he thought this would be helpful. Luckily, we ran into another student who recognized him, and said, "Hey! He's supposed to be in our class!" Me: Great! Where's your class? Miscellaneous student: "Well it's over now." Me: I'm confused, how can it be over? Where are the rest of your classmates? Misc. student: "They're in class." Me: (thinking: ay yay yay sixth graders!) Okay, well where would that be? Misc. student: "In the classroom." Me: (thinking: seriously?) Which classroom? Misc. student: "It's over, it doesn't matter!" Me: Okay, I get it. But which actual classroom is the rest of your class in? Misc. student: "Oh! The one at the end of the hall." Wow. Clearly, I don't speak 6th grade. On Wednesday, we had the same sort of rotation schedule. You better believe I had my homeroom reporting to the correct place. Of course, today, they teased me, "Do we have to be with you for two periods again!? (insert chorus of whiny voices). I laughed. I'm glad it's mutual. After lunch, again, I was helping kids figure out where they should go, and walked down to grab something out of my classroom and what do you know!? Who is sitting in my class AGAIN!? My homeroom. It cracked me up today, so I said, "You guys are like stinkin' boomerangs! No matter where I sent you, you always come back to me! Ohhhhh so sweet!" Today, they insisted that they are actually told by some staff member to come back to my room after lunch. That is one unkind staff person, that's for sure! At some point, my students were meandering through my room today, and probably one of the most notorious characters in the school, informed me, "Ms. Tacchini you really shouldn't leave your keys in the door of your closet. Something can, and WILL, get stolen. It's just how students are in this school." I surely appreciated the advice, but it also made me pretty suspicious of this particular student. I didn't get around to inventorying my closet. There's not much else in there besides yoga stuff, popsicle sticks, pencils and granola bars. High cost items, for sure. In stark contrast to my surly, tired, 8th graders, I saw mostly 6th and 7th graders. During one of our early morning sessions, my co-teacher came up to me and said, "Um the girl in the pink and black shirt is crying her eyes out. Ready? Go." Okay, so here we go. Surely, I'm the one to send into an emotional crisis. Listen, just because I matriculate from day treatment does not mean I am prepared, in any way, to address tears. I asked her if she wanted to talk to someone; me, the counselor, etc? And, she told me she wanted to talk to me, in private, with her friend. I walked them down to my classroom thinking, obviously something traumatic has happened. In my head, I was trying to mentally prepare myself for what could possibly make someone cry that hard on the third day of school. We get into the classroom and she starts explaining, "Well (sob, sob), you see (gasping for air), some boys in this class told me (choke choke) that my boyfriend said that I am mean to him and stuff." Okay, step one, do not start laughing. I must take this seriously. Step two, ask obvious questions, "Are you mean to your boyfriend?" "Has he ever told you that you are mean to him?" "Is it possible that these boys are making up stories to get you upset?" "When can you talk to your boyfriend?" That last question segued right into, "I don't really like to talk him but I send my friends to go talk to him for me." Okay, well I didn't really have time to delve into all the issues with that logic. I had to cut to the chase. "First of all, sweetheart, if he's talking behind your back, he's not even worth your time." Insert the girl's friend that came with us, "That's what my mom always says." My inside thought says, "YES! I'm on the right track. If mom's say it, it must be true..." I continue, "Second of all, just talk to him, or have your friends do it. You don't know what the truth is. You're going to have to do a little investigation and figure this out. But, right now, is not the time to freak out because we just don't know yet." She sucked it up and said she would be okay and she'd like to go back to class after she washed her face. I sent the girls on their way. Less than two hours later, I see the same girl, as she comes bounding towards me, a huge smile on her face, exclaiming, "I feel better now!" Awesome. My job here is done. Back at it again tomorrow. I can't wait for the weekend, where I will be planning all hours and reading to get ready for next week. I can't wait to have my feet under me. Until then, as a good friend always tells me, I've got to, "keep fighting."