Here we go again

Tried to find an appropriate image for summer school and couldn’t find anything I really liked, so feel free to enjoy this ultra-rare photo of two of my three cats sharing my lap. It could have been better if one of them was looking at the camera or both of them were in focus, but I was worried that any movement at all might cause one or both of them to bolt, so I took what I could get.

Anyway, summer school, or, sorry, the Summer Learning Program, since technically I’m not employed by any school district for the next several weeks, starts tomorrow. I have to be there at 8:00, have an entire hour of prep, then three hours of teaching, then I do that 21 more times and then I’m done. I have ten kids on one roster and twelve at another, so we’ll see how many actually show up. I know one of them already and she’s awesome. Tomorrow is a survey and a pre-test and some getting to know you activities. Tomorrow there’s a different pre-test. Actual regular day stuff starts Wednesday. The curriculum is all pre-baked. There’s literally no accountability for anyone involved. This should be easy as hell.

Please, let this be easy as hell.

In the beginning

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I’ve had twelve first days of school as a teacher.  That was… certainly one of them.  My throat hurts from talking all day, I’m exhausted, and I have absolutely no idea what I’m actually teaching tomorrow, which could potentially be a problem.  Hopefully tonight I will be able to brain enough to pull together a couple of days’ worth of useful lesson plans, and to be able to bluff my way through actually teaching them tomorrow.  Let’s cross our fingers!

It worked out kinda funny, actually: my first group was way more obnoxious than I was expecting them to be.  My second group was way less obnoxious than I was expecting them to be.  My afternoon class was exactly what I was expecting them to be.  My day is, therefore, timed beautifully; my kids start off a hot mess (at the time of day where I’m most likely to have my patience together) and get better behaved and more fun as the day drags on.  And my prep period is last hour, which works with me for a variety of reasons.  The buses were terribly late, but not as terribly late as they’ve frequently been on the first day of school.  (Elementary students, who let out before we do, sometimes don’t get off at their stop like they’re supposed to, and then don’t know things like their phone numbers and addresses, which have to be tracked down.  The first few days/couple of weeks are always disastrous until transportation gets the bus routes worked out.)

All told: not a bad first day.  We’ll see how the next two days go once I’m actually being expected to teach them something and they’re being expected to learn something.


I’m going to mention this here just because I need to mention it yesterday: Elmore Leonard died this week; I would do terrible things to my friends and loved ones in exchange for a fraction of the man’s talent.  The only person whose Rules for Writing are better than his are Mark Twain’s:

1. Never open a book with weather.

2. Avoid prologues.

3. Never use a verb other than “said” to carry dialogue.

4. Never use an adverb to modify the verb “said.”

5. Keep your exclamation points under control.

6. Never use the words “suddenly” or “all hell broke loose.”

7. Use regional dialect, patois, sparingly.

8. Avoid detailed descriptions of characters.

9. Don’t go into great detail describing places and things.

10. Try to leave out the part that readers tend to skip.

RIP, Mr. Leonard.