Are you sure(t) about that?

One of my cherished seventh grade students was seen wearing a shirt with this written on the front:

"An awkward morning beats a boring night."

I wonder if he knows how awkward he made my afternoon by wearing that shirt.

The easy life

My high school "History of American Music" class often complains about not having a performance component to the class (which only meets two days during the week). K, having been through the instrumental program in middle school, helped me explain why we don't play instruments:

"Look, I couldn't even play 'Hot Cross Buns'. That was the hardest thing I've ever done in my LIFE!"

BlueTube

I think it's only appropriate that this very morning, I covered the seventh grade math class mentioned in the previous post. While students struggle to remember factors and long division, they remember well the encounter from our last meeting...

M: "Hey Steve! Why is it so hard for you to find clues?"

Mr. F: I don't know M, why is it so hard for you to do your work?"

M: "But you need a DOG to help you, Steve!"

At this point, F overhears our conversation. Some necessary background information: F is a 15 year old girl in seventh grade.

F: "Yo, you guys talkin' 'bout Blues Clues? That sh*t be POPPIN', yo! I still watch that. Watch it every night!"

M: "What you talkin' 'bout!? That ain't even on at night!"

F: "I watch that On Demand, son!"

You blue it

Covering a seventh grade class that is not music may perhaps be my punishment for some great evil in a past life, so it only fair that I take every opportunity to win battles wherever I can. The following story documents such a victory:

In a seventh grade math class, M, a student who was in music for about 1 week earlier in the year, gives me a hard time. I have gotten into the habit of telling M that he should relish his time in seventh grade because it is likely to be the coolest that he'll ever be, and that it's all downhill from here. An exchange of this sort occurred in this particular class, and then...

M: You're not even cool! You look like Steve from Blues Clues!"

Mr. F: "Why are you watching Blues Clues? That's not very cool."

M: "Hey Steve! Everybody look, it's Steve!"

At this point, some other students begin to join in the fun. Over the din of seventh grade mayhem, I hear calls of "Steve!" and "Blues Clues!"

M: "Hey look, Steve! I found a clue!" (points to a blue paw print drawn on the board)

During the ensuing laughter, I erase the paw print and draw a blue 55.

Mr. F "Hey, M. I think the clue was for you. It's your final average for the year!"

Silence.


Cruel? Yes. Worth it? Absolutely.

Passing Notes, Part 3

This note was not passed in my class, but is still deserving of a post.

Okay so D told you what I said about my boo/man. Its not to be mean or anything I just don't like you and you don't like me right so we have something in common. I [think] you a ho and you maybe think I'm one too but so what just not talk or look or hug my boo, okay? And we will not have no problems a all and if he talk to you just say don't talk to me or don't talk back.


Another possible title of this post was "Girlfights".

Race pace

Continuing with the theme of race in the classroom...

"Mista, I don't mean to sound igorant or whatever. BUT... I'm just used to black people rappin'....and white people rockin'!"

- D, in the middle of a discussion about whether certain music can be considered "white" or "black".

Winning the race

Meet S, a sixth grade female so affected by the massive chip on her shoulder that she likely has back problems. S has vocally demonstrated repeatedly that she does not like white people, Arabic people, or just people in general...


S: (To an Arabic teacher) "I ain't from your country. I ain't one of you."

Mr. F: S, You're in enough trouble, don't make it worse."

S: "GOD Mista what is it with YOU people?"

Mr. F: "YOU people? What does that even mean?"

S: All ya'll Arabics and whites. I ain't playin'."

Mr. F: "S, you know that this is now a bias incident, right?"

S: F*** outta heah'. Mista, you shop at the WHITE store, get it? I shop at the BLACK store, get it?"

Mr. F: "S, that doesn't even make se..."

S: "White store!"


And on a separate occasion, with her hands covered in chalk from erasing the chalkboard, S had this to say:

"Mista, now I'm the same color as you!"