May Gray

My beautiful Charlie boy woke up with all the energy of a dog who hasn't been on a proper walk for two days. He jumps out of bed (yes, I let him sleep with me) and then starts whining until I acknowledge him. I usually pick him up, and put him back on the bed, and get 15 more minutes before it all starts again. See, my bed is 150 years old (not the mattress), and it's much higher off the ground than most. Charlie can get up on the bed by himself, but that ability disappears the moment I am in the bed, half asleep and comfortable.

I just checked the tides though:
http://www.tides.info/?Command=view&location=Santa+Barbara%2C+California
and it looks like it's going to be a very low tide today, -95! So, I'll bundle up and get Charlie down to the beach this morning. Hendry's Beach is the only one in town where dogs can go off leash. He's so happy there! I usually go by myself or with my friend Deborah and her dog Rio. I try to get there at least 4 or 5 days a week, but the tides don't always cooperate. During the summer it's much easier.

It's a three day weekend! Whoo hoo! And all my friends are out of town. Boo hoo.

It's not that bad though. I have to grade all the poetry portfolios that were turned in by my students last week. I love being a teacher; I love being in front of a class, lesson planning, research, helping students learn... but I hate grading. So much of it is just for the sake of accountability. In Junior High, the first question asked when given a writing assignment is, "how long does it have to be?"

Drives me nuts. I always answer "As long as it needs to be." Drives them crazy. I figure it's fair.

I guess the other thing that bothers me is difficult parents. I have some parents who demand that I notify them immediately if their darling son's grade falls below an "A" at any time, and then other parents who have a failing child, and yet believes the child when he or she says, "No Mom, I don't have any homework."

I tried that once. For the first 5 weeks of seventh grade, I basically didn't do any English homework. It was boring, so I didn't do it. Then the progress report showed up.

Oh my. My mother and father were not amused. I was grounded from the middle of October until Christmas vacation. No phone, no TV, no stereo, no going outside. It was horrible.

But, I got a C by the end of the semester. Not a stellar grade, I know, but my parent's worked with my teacher, and I got back on track.

By the way, only a few years ago, my mother said to me, "You know, Mrs. L- was a bitch." I had to pick up my lower jaw from the floor.
"Why didn't you ever tell me?" I had hated this woman who played favorites with all the cute and popular kids (of course her daughter was in the same grade as I, and was a drill team member, and in student government, and wore those cute little Dittos pants with the rainbow stitching, while I wore the Fedmart brand, polyester blend imitations), and she really had been a bitch.

"There was no reason to. She was your teacher, and you had to respect her, whether I liked her or not."

Yea Mom. I wish more parents were like her.

Here's the most recent galling episode with a student and parent:
I have an after school, 7th period class called SOAR (Skills, Organization, and Responsibility). Of course, the students have different words to call the class. Anyway, it's for those students failing or getting a "D" in more than one subject. You can imagine the charmers I have in this class.

C--- is a very smart and very lazy kid. He always says he has no work to do, so I run around contacting his teachers to get the work directly from them. Even then,
"C--- here is your English homework from Ms. B."
"I can't do it. I don't have my English notebook."
"Well then, here is your history homework from Mr. Marquez."
"My work is all in my English notebook."

You get the picture.

One day last week, C--- decided to play with his yo-yo. Middle of class, everyone else is working or pretending to work, and he's yo-yo-ing. I walk over, put my hand out, and he gives it to me.

I have a policy in all my classes; no toys and no grooming. If I see someone brushing her hair or playing with a tech deck, I take it away and put it in a large tin I have above my class cupboard.
The students know that they will get their items back if one of their parents call me, or on the last day of school.

So, his mom calls me the next day, and leaves a message: "C--- told me that you took his yo-yo away. He said you just took it from him, even though it was before class started, and he didn't know the rules, and that he wasn't playing with it, but just putting it away. I want you to give it back to him today, because he won't be there Friday, and I don't want him to have to wait until Monday."

um...

My message machine at school clearly states that I'm not able to retrieve messages between 8am and 3:30pm. You know, teaching and all kinda gets in the way of that. I call back within 24 hours; school policy.

So, not only do I not get that message during the day, I have a sub for the afternoon class because of Bridezilla's wedding extravaganza activities. I had to leave early that day, but figured, oh well. He's not going to die without his yo-yo for one weekend.

I check my messages again Friday morning, and mom has left another one:
"Ms. S-. I came in after school today to make sure that you gave C--- back his property, and was very disappointed to find you had a substitute [because teachers aren't allowed to have a day off?]. Since I was there, I just took the yo yo back. If you'd like to talk to me, the best time to get ahold of me is after 8pm."

!

So, this woman came into my room, went behind my desk, took the tin off the top of my cupboard, and saved the toy from banishment.

Nice support for my rules. And, the whole bit about calling after 8? Like I don't have anything else to do with my evenings?

What a great example for this kid. If you break the rules, just lie, and if you want something, just take it.

Lovely.

Now I'm all riled up again. It's time to get dressed, get an overpriced, extra hot mocha, and take the dog for a walk.