judgment day

The last few days of school- judgment day. Students who were content with their 6% all year suddenly decide that failing my class will keep them out of Harvard and will cause them to fail at life and DIE. And it is all my fault, of course.

Some of my favorites today:
"Didn't you get it? I slid it under your door."
"Well, I was cleaning out my folder and I threw it away. I thought you had graded it. No, it didn't have a grade on it."
"I don't know. I don't think I ever got one. Hey, is that a hamster cage over there?"
"I was absent for that."
"I had to DO that?"
"Do you have any no-name papers?"
"What color is it?"
"Was I absent that day?"
"I have really been good today. Couldn't you raise it?"
"Work is due today?!!?"
"Are you sure?"

I only hold the key to a paradisaical summer vacation, not for saving them from the infinite eternities of fire and brimstone... I am beginning to feel a great deal of sympathy for Saint Peter or whatever unlucky soul is manning the pearly gates.

reality bites...

And then, within the same day, I decide to record the number of times ONE of my students yells out in a 30 minute period. 45 times. For the record, that is an average of 1.5 outbursts per minute. Multiplied by 40 students, that is 1800 outbursts per half hour. 3600 per hour. Seven hours a day, that's 25, 200. Putting this in perspective, that is quashing 126,000 unsolicited outbursts per week. As much as I love teaching junior high, I think I might just love summer more. I can go to the nicklecade and play whack-a-mole when I get lonely. It fulfills the same basic need.

stairway to heaven

Today I watched two 8th graders, one with an Abraham Lincolnesque construction paper hat on his head, do a haunting rendition of Stairway to Heaven. Who wouldn't want to teach junior high? And isn't that the way Led Zeppelin intended it to be?