Best. Compliment. Ever.

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I wasn't planning to write a blog post tonight.  I was sitting at the computer, playing around a little before class starts and doing that thing where you search for your name on the Internet just to see what pops up.

Which is a little depressing with my married name because the first site that came up was NOT my blog but some drugged out felon's youtube page called "My Life After Lockup."

Then I decided to search Twitter for my maiden name and found it linked to this site that rates teachers...and I almost didn't look because it is much more common to go online and complain about things than go online and say positive things.  And let's be honest, it's been a rough semester this spring...

But I did look.  And this is the post:

Ms. Haugh had a great influence on me without even knowing it. I had her as my English III teacher both semesters of my Junior year. Straight away I discovered that there was not going to be a corner to cut with her, which is why I received a well deserved C-grade my first semester. The first day of my second semester, I told her I was going to be a different student. The crazy part was, she believed what I said, and believed in me. This is when I realized the difference between "getting an A" and "earning an A."                                

Best. Compliment. Ever.

I'm not sure who wrote this; I doubt the author will ever see my response since I've married and moved hundreds of miles away...but if he or she does see it, know this: you made me cry tonight-in a good way.

Thank you.

And for the rest of you who ARE reading this post--if you had a teacher who helped you, who changed you, who gave you the tiniest bit of a different, better perspective in this crazy world, please tell them.  Even if you were in high school twenty or thirty years ago, reach out.  Let them know.  It's a hard job and one thing that makes it all worthwhile is knowing you made a difference.

Underwear Should Not Be Optional

It's Theme Thursday everybody--and the first Theme Thursday I've been able to participate in for awhile because of the whole "three jobs" issue. In any case, Theme Thursday is sponsored by Jenn at Something Clever 2.0   and features a group of my favorite bloggers who all write on the same theme. This week's theme is advice. And since I've already used my best dating advice here, I thought I'd do another blast from the past.

As most of you know, I used to teach high school in St. Louis. And when I was there, I somehow ended up in charge of the "at-risk" kids from the inner city. In all honesty, it was the toughest job of my life--and the most rewarding. But, I jumped into it without knowing all the details. Like the fact that being in charge of this group also somehow put me in charge of the annual talent show.

Yes, I agree, the connection between troubled students and talent shows seems tenuous and odd. Which is why my advice is: If you are asked to sponsor the annual high school talent show--whether you're working with at-risk kids or not at-risk kids, basically if there are kids involved--RUN in the opposite direction, shrieking NO!!!!! at the top of your lungs.

Because it’s Hell.

Seriously.

In fact, I’m somewhat convinced it’s worse than Hell. So, if ever you find yourself standing before the judgment throne of the Lord God Almighty and He gives you a choice between the fiery pits of Hell and sponsoring the Talent Show, CHOOSE HELL!!!!!!

Trust me, it will be a lot less painful.

Here’s a look at the show the year before I moved to Okahoma:

The day started with a little activity I like to call “censorship.” This is when I review all the music that we’re using in the show and make sure it’s school appropriate. You see, when you are in charge of an event that is largely run by at risk teens, the administration seems to worry that there will be song lyrics that are a touch vulgar and/or sexual in nature.

It is interesting to note that this same concern was obviously not expressed that same year at the Winter Sports Pep Rally when the basketball team boogied out to center court to “She Does It Like A Nympho.” Oddly, my inquiries to the principals about this discrepancy were never answered.

But I digress!

Anyway, first thing in the morning, I headed to the theater to review the lyrics...which means some of you are wondering why I would wait to the last minute to begin such an activity.

You, clearly, have never sponsored a talent show.

The thing is teenagers can be crafty.  Sometimes the songs that kids try out to and the songs they bring to dress rehearsal are not always the songs that make it to the theater on the day of the show. So, I reviewed them several times throughout the whole talent show process.

So, I listened to the music while a couple of girls from my group put up last minute decorations. Unfortunately, I was interrupted by the sight of 3 students from my first hour class who were meandering through the theater to see what was going on.

“You guys are supposed to be in class!” I told them.

“Don’t worry,” they assured me. “We have a sub.”

Which is when I screamed “You’re supposed to be in MY CLASS!”

“We have a SUB,” they said, like I didn’t hear them the first time.

Which, oddly, I already knew since I ordered the sub so I could ORGANIZE THE TALENT SHOW.

And I was just about done screaming horrible threats at them when another group of kids from the group wandered in. These little pumpkins weren’t actually supposed to be in MY class, but they were supposed to be IN CLASS so I cheerfully added them to the rant, waving my hands in the air, making ridiculous threats, and barring them from my sight for the rest of the day.

Then I grabbed one of my girls, this enormous and incredibly tough chick I’ll call Kiki and put her in charge of the door. “Do not let another kid in here,” I told her. “And if anyone shows up, tell them to GO BACK TO CLASS!”

Kiki took to this responsibility with the dedication of one of those guards at Buckingham Palace, marching back and forth in front of the door, and shooting angry glares at anyone in a six feet radius. As I was off to the side, listening to the song lyrics, I could hear Kiki in the background, yelling threats that were much more inappropriate than mine and telling various people to “Gitcher ass bacta class.”

I probably should have stopped her but you know what?

It made me happy.

Right until the horrible moment when this incredibly young looking student teacher tried to get into the theater to ask me a question.

Apparently her education classes had not prepared her for an encounter with Kiki.

Nor had they prepared her for my giggling reaction to the whole mess…I think she wanted me to expel Kiki on the spot or at the very least send her to In School Suspension but I couldn’t stop laughing.

I mean, I made Kiki apologize and I apologized and I even took responsibility for the entire misunderstanding.

But I was laughing so hard I could hardly get the words out.

Stress. It’s a weird thing.

In any case, in spite of the fact that I was pretty sure I’d be getting an angry call from this girl’s mentoring teacher and maybe even her mom, I couldn’t reflect on her angst for long because it was 30 minutes to show time and I had to confront 2 of my little darlings about their last minute song switches.

“Destiny,” I said, cornering one of the performers. “This isn’t the song you brought to dress rehearsal.”

“I changed it,” she agreed.

“Change it back,” I said. “Because there is no chance you’re getting on stage and dancing to a song called I GET IT IN.”

“Come on,” she said in that you’re such an idiot tone that only high school girls can do really well, “It’s not dirty, it’s about dancing in a club.”

“I listened to it,” I responded in that don’t screw with me tone that teachers need to do really well. “And it’s about what some nasty people think about doing after they leave the club.”

But I am not an unreasonable woman. I told her that if she could actually explain to me what the word “it” referred to in a way that didn’t make me want to shower, she could dance her little heart out.

She decided to change the song back.

And you know what?

That wasn’t the most disturbing song conversation of the whole day. The most disturbing conversation involved a song called “Stanky Leg.” I think the fact that the song is performed by a group called the G SPOT BOYS should have been enough to convince the kids that it wasn’t, perhaps, school appropriate but teenagers are not always deep thinkers. Instead we had to go into a long horrifying discussion about what a “stanky leg” actually is.

For those of you who don’t know (and I hope that’s MOST of you) let me just say it involves women who have a lot of sex.

And if you think that’s revolting, imagine discussing that fact with a 17 year old boy.

Yep, I loved that job.

Anyway, once we got the show underway, things were a little smoother…right until the formerly Stanky Leg dancers got on stage and I realized I made one of the classic blunders: I didn’t check their costume from all angles.

I also checked all costumes before the show… a lesson I learned during dress rehearsal when one group of guys ran onto the stage in short lycra running tights, no shirts, and open leather jackets. But I didn’t check the outfits from all angles...or with all moves being performed.

Which means that about three steps into the routine, the audience and I all got a nice long view of butt crack.

Note to self: If I ever sponsor a Talent Show again, underwear will NOT be optional.

However, before I end, I do want to share a really uplifting moment from the show.

We had this one little singer who tried out and was quite good…but he was nervous about performing. A situation heightened by the fact that he’s special and tends to have a little trouble reacting to things in an appropriate fashion.

So he got on stage, started to sing, and totally forgot the words to his song. It was awful…he got all teary-eyed and flustered, until about 5 of my girls started singing the song, to get him back on track…and they sang it with him the rest of his performance.

I’m not going to lie, it choked me up a little.

When he came off stage, he was still upset and was worried that people were laughing at him and Kiki hugged him and said “Who cares? You made the show, the rest of these people were too scared or lame to even try out!”

It was so spontaneously sweet and kind that I wasn’t even that upset when she followed that with “So tell those a**holes to shut the f*** up!”

Although I do wish she hadn’t been so close to the microphone.

 

For other advice, check out the other Theme Thursday posts by clicking the link below:

 

 

For other advice, check out the other Theme Thursday posts by clicking the link:

An Allison Hiding In A Claire

This Thursday’s Theme Thursday topic is Which Breakfast Club Character Are you? And this one was tough for me…which is surprising because I love, love, LOVED that movie…I’ve probably seen it 150 times….I can get still get all fired up thinking of horrible Principal Vernon…man, I hated that guy when I first saw the movie. Then, years later, when I became a high school teacher myself and started dealing with a bunch of smart ass kids, I hated him even more.

Because there’s nothing worse than a teacher or principal who is burnt out and doesn’t like kids…I only met one or two of those when I was teaching; most of my colleagues loved kids, loved their jobs, loved making a difference.

But I know how much damage 1 bad teacher can do….and if you interacted with one of those, I’m sorry. Hopefully, you had enough good ones to make up.

Except, none of that answers the question: Which character are you?

And I think I was 2…on the inside I felt like the weird, neurotic basket case. I liked to write, I liked comic books and superheroes and I read everything I could get my hands on. And I worried and got worked up and generally felt like a basket case on a regular basis.

But on the outside I was definitely the Princess….This was me in high school:

(Side note: I wish big hair would come back in style because that’s the one thing these curls do easily!)

Anyway, I wasn’t Prom Queen but my best friend was runner up for Homecoming Queen. And I was on dance team and student council…I wore a little too much make up and I cared a little too much what other people thought of me (soooo glad I grew out of that!) but I think I was nice to people and I never intentionally hurt anyone's feelings or tried to exclude them.

But the main reason I think I was the Princess is because I was hopelessly, endlessly drawn to the John Benders of the world…the ones who are misunderstood, a little broken, and hard to reach. The ones who needed to be saved from themselves…philanthropic dating, you might call it…


Which probably explains why it took me so long to get married…I had to find a Johnny who had just enough Andy to love an Allison hiding inside a Claire.


For other Breakfast Club posts, check out



 :

Kimbo Started The Fire

First Sentence Friday again and this week’s sentence is: One of the most embarrassing things I ever did was:

And that is a LONG list to choose from…but the first one that jumped to mind was this:

One of the most embarrassing things I ever did was…set the high school on fire. Well, not completely. But sort of…and it wasn’t ALL my fault.

Here’s what you need to know:

 

1. High school librarians, while very smart, are not omniscient. If you, for example, say to them "Hey, do you think I can put this cup in the microwave?" and they reply "Sure, why not?" This is not a guarantee of the cup's safe experience in the microwave.

2. If you put a cup in the microwave that is NOT microwave safe (unbeknownst to you and the librarians), set the microwave for 2 minutes and walk away to go get a packet of tea, that cup can quite easily catch on fire.

3. If you see the cup on fire, yell the f word and then open the microwave, that does NOT make the fire go out.

 

4. If you set a fire in the microwave at a SCHOOL, which apparently has the most sensitive smoke detectors ON THE PLANET, the fire alarm will go off throughout the whole building.

5. If you call the building secretary and assure her that the fire in the microwave is out and not a

concern AFTER THE ALARM HAS ALREADY GONE OFF, that does NOT mean everyone can stay in the building. The fire department, you see, has already been notified and is on the way to the building with full lights and sirens to rescue all the children from the flames. Everyone must still exit.

6. If there is an emergency evacuation of the building during LUNCH, the administrators of the building find this slightly troublesome to deal with...this is definitely NOT the time to joke around and say things like "We always said we should see if we're really prepared for an emergency...heh, heh, heh...you're welcome...heh, heh, heh."

7. When you return to the building, after having caused this disaster AND ruined the microwave and your favorite mug in one fell swoop, it is difficult, MAKE THAT BORDERLINE IMPOSSIBLE, to find someone to make you a cup of tea...even if your poor little nerves are so frayed you really need one.

 

For other more embarrassing stories, hopefully much worse than mine, click the link below: