Krakow, Early Morning
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From School
English I students continued with their parts of speech review, getting out of the traditional order and skipping from adjective to prepositions in order to help students identify prepositional phrases. This will help them with all the other parts of speech, especially since we’re going to be covering active/passive when we get to verbs later this week.
English 8 students continued with the district-designed unit on argument based on the newly adopted textbook looking at argumentative writing. We’re looking at a second article dealing with automation and employment: this article makes the opposite claim as last week’s article “The Automation Paradox.”
Team Member of the Quarter
This is from some time ago, but we are still all proud of our K.
Game Day
Name-Calling GOP
I was looking through old posts in the “random post” widget the other evening before heading to bed, and I saw this from 2008.
Sixteen years later, and nothing has changed.
Maybe immaturity is just a GOP thing?
Goodbye to the Bard?
South Carolina Regulation 43-170 has been wreaking havoc on education this year, and few are more directly affected than humanities teachers. It reads, in part, “Instructional
Material is not “Age and Developmentally Appropriate” for any age or age group of children if it includes descriptions or visual depictions of “sexual conduct,” as that term is defined by Section 16-15-305(C)(1).”
In turn, Section 16-15-305(C)(1) reads:
(1) “sexual conduct” means:
(a) vaginal, anal, or oral intercourse, whether actual or simulated, normal or perverted, whether between human beings, animals, or a combination thereof;
(b) masturbation, excretory functions, or lewd exhibition, actual or simulated, of the genitals, pubic hair, anus, vulva, or female breast nipples including male or female genitals in a state of sexual stimulation or arousal or covered male genitals in a discernably turgid state;
(c) an act or condition that depicts actual or simulated bestiality, sado-masochistic abuse, meaning flagellation or torture by or upon a person who is nude or clad in undergarments or in a costume which reveals the pubic hair, anus, vulva, genitals, or female breast nipples, or the condition of being fettered, bound, or otherwise physically restrained on the part of the one so clothed;
(d) an act or condition that depicts actual or simulated touching, caressing, or fondling of, or other similar physical contact with, the covered or exposed genitals, pubic or anal regions, or female breast nipple, whether alone or between humans, animals, or a human and an animal, of the same or opposite sex, in an act of actual or apparent sexual stimulation or gratification; or
(e) an act or condition that depicts the insertion of any part of a person’s body, other than the male sexual organ, or of any object into another person’s anus or vagina, except when done as part of a recognized medical procedure.
This is in the 2023 South Carolina Code of Laws, Title 16 (Crimes and Offenses),
Chapter 15 (Offenses Against Morality And Decency) Section 16-15-305 (Disseminating, procuring or promoting obscenity unlawful; definitions; penalties; obscene material designated contraband).
So this morning, I walked into the teacher’s workroom this morning to put my lunch in the refrigerator, and the drama teacher was making copies.
“Are you still able to teach Romeo and Juliet?” she asked.
I told her that as far as I knew, we were still able to teach it. It is, after all, in the textbook the South Carolina Department of Education approved. I asked her what she meant.
“We’re getting word that his plays are a bit too controversial, and we might not be able to act them anymore,” she explained.
Pretty much.
Re-creation
The Honors kids are working through a parts-of-speech review, and today we went over pronouns. (Not for the whole class, mind you — we only spend about 15 minutes per day working on this. Otherwise, it would be numbingly boring for everyone, including me.) Students were identifying demonstrative, interrogative, and relative pronouns, and number five was a question, an excellent opportunity to see for interrogative pronouns.
“Let’s skip to five,” I said, giving them a moment to read it. “The first pronoun in that sentence — can anyone identify it?”
A smart young lady raised her hand. “What,” she replied correctly.
And then it hit me — there’s always a joke of the day. I like to make the kids laugh, though most of my jokes make them groan. But here was a chance to recreate a classic.
“Number five,” I repeated. “The first pronoun.”
“What,” she repeated, a little confused.
“I’m asking you — the first pronoun in number five.” I had to phrase the next part just right. “It’s what?”
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“It’s what,” she confirmed, her eyebrows furrowing a bit more, smiles starting to appear around the room.
“What?”
“Number five?”
“Yes. I’m asking you. The first pronoun.”
“What.” She was starting to catch on here.
“The first pronoun!” I let a little faux frustration creep into my voice. “Look at number five and identify the first pronoun.”
“It’s what!” a full smile as she had caught on at that point.
“Why are you asking me?! I know what it is. I want to see if you know. What is it?”
“Yes!” Now she had it.
“Yes, what?!”
“Exactly!“
By now everyone was giggling, including her.
“Does anyone know what we just recreated?” I asked.
“Who’s on first?” came a voice from the back.
“Very good!” And our first brain break of the day was to watch the first few minutes of that classic.
Perspective
An old friend — my next-door neighbor growing up — faced a daunting procedure today: due to various complications, doctors had to amputate his right leg above the knee. I can’t imagine what that must be like. But one thing is certain: he hasn’t lost his sense of humor.
Zeno’s Paradox
In English 8, we’re off to our next set of required readings. I have very little say in what I teach English 8 this year, and a lot of the materials are too difficult for my students and too — quite frankly — boring to get their interest. Our piece is called “The Automation Paradox,” and so we did a little pre-teaching today so kids know what a paradox is. To that end, I introduced them to Zeno’s Paradox. We did some measuring, completed a little math, and I convinced them that the math was solid: the arrow should have never hit Zeno.
So then we tested the theory with a ball. Which students took turns throwing at me. I was fairly sure they would hit me quickly, but I failed to take into account the light weight of the ball and the tendency of smooth light balls not to travel in a straight line. So most of the throws missed.
But the point was made. And the kids had a blast throwing that silly ball at me.
This is what makes middle school so fun: they’re cognitively developed enough that we can get into some abstract thinking and still childlike enough to enjoy being silly.
Hike
We headed to Paris Mountain State Park today for a warm-up hike for the coming fall hiking season. E and I, we prefer mountain biking. K enjoys it as well, but she prefers hiking, and she’s got a goal for this season: the Dismal Loop. Today’s hike was much less daunting:
We tried to talk the Girl into going with us, but she was intent on studying at the library. Of all of us, she definitely has the most negative opinion of hiking.
We’ve been to this lake several times, and we’ve even got pictures of L tottering about the place as a toddler.
The Boy managed fine, but he’s insisting that he’s outgrown these hiking boots — which he wore daily just this summer at Scout Camp. Is it possibe? And they’re the Girl’s boots, not his own boots.
Two signs of how our kids are changing: our daughter elects to go study at the library (I’m sure there was a fair amount of socializing as well — that’s how I studied at the library in high school), and our son is approaching full size with alarming rapidity, with a full-size appetite developing and a full-size teenage attitude emerging.
We decided to come head back next Sunday, and the Boy and I will ride while K takes the dog for a walk. The Boy, by the way, now rides K’s mountain bike whenever he gets the chance.
So that means we’re also looking for yet another bike for him. He’s not quite outgrown his bike physically, but he’s already putting demands on it that the poor bike can’t handle. He’s broken a chain once and gotten more pinch-punctures than I care to recall.
Once we got back and had some dinner, K did what she always does: she found some chore or other she felt she should have accomplished ealier and gets to work.
I graded articles of the week for my honors kids and snapped a picture of K, noticing once I’d converted it to black and white how awful our front yard looks.
Pierogi Party
Ride
You know you’ve discovered a completely negected trail when you become a Strava Local Legend after only one ride on that trail:
Levels
There’s a caterwauling feline I’m tossing around above my head that seems determined not to be part of this juggling act, and I can’t really blame it: after all, I’m also juggling a set of kitchen knives and a chainsaw, along with some greasy ball bearings and a blob of slime one of my students made, and they’re all getting tangled up in the random arcs in which they sail over my head. Every time the cat comes into my grasp, I get a fresh set of deep gouges as the cat’s claws rip into my skin. At the same time, I have to worry about the slices the knife blades so desperately want to inflict on my arms, and the chainsaw seems determined to take off one appendage or another. The greasy bearings and slime are just the last lovely touch as they somehow make my hands simultaneously slippery and sticky, complicating the entire process. And so I’m bound to drop something.
I have two classes of eighth-grade on-level English. In one class, I have seven students of such low English ability that I’m supposed to make alternative versions of most things we do. In both classes, there are also students with special education requirements that are similar. Some of these kids need only a little help; others need a lot. So for multiple-choice tests, I make three versions: one with four possible answers per question, one with three possible answers per question, and a final one with two possible answers per question. Once I make these tests, I have to make sure that the right student gets the right test, which can be particularly challenging since most of them are supposed to be administered electronically so that we have “data” to assess. (I put that in quotes because a) it’s representative of the foundation, indeed, cornerstone of edu-speak these days as and a result, b) I absolutely loathe it.) So what happens if I give
- Required number of grades and suggested grading schedule
- Required assessment that I really don’t feel is a good assessment — too difficult for these students
- Required units/pacing guide that I don’t really feel is good for these students — too much of a shotgun, hit them with a million topics approach.
- Required to cover the same things as other teachers at roughly the same time in the name of “equity”
The shells on the beach just at the edge of the surf were visible for only a few moments before the white bubbles and turbulence hid them again. In the brief time I could clearly see them in the shallow water, it was obvious most of the shells were only fragments, often smaller than the smallest coins, slivers well on their way to becoming grains of sand. Every now and then, a shard would catch my eye, and I would think, “I might try to grab that one” just before incoming wave hid them once again. By then it was too late: once the water cleared up, the tide would have tkane the shard so far away from its original position that finding it was all but impossible. Another might catch my eye, but then the process would simply repeat itself.
To get a shell required calm and patience followed by a paradoxical ability to move quickly when needed. Hesitation meant the loss of the moment. In some ways, that’s a metaphor for live in general for many people. Everything is about getting the right moment, and when that fails, increased stress is the outcome.
Yet the older I get, the more I realize the error in living like that, the unnecessary stress it causes. Yes, I might not get that exact shell that I wanted, but there were plenty of other shells that were just as lovely, often more so.
Home Game
It was a tough loss: the girls were up 15-7 in the first set only to lose 22-25. It’s tough to lose after having such a lead, and it’s tough to go back out for a second set. But they did. And the struggles continued, and the frustrated girls took another one on the chin: 21-25.
Then came the third set. They jumped out to a quick lead just like the first set, but this time, instead of losing it, they increased it, taking the third set 25-14. “See? That’s what we’re capable of,” they seemed to be saying.
Then came the fourth set, which the lost 16-25. It’s these ups and downs, these moments of brilliance followed by moments of — what? — that are so frustrating for this year’s team. They know what they’re capable of: they’re just not managing to maintain it consistently.
Yet through it all, there’s our L, always the upbeat cheerleader of the team, always celebrating even the smallest victory, always cheering up the team when they’re down, always believing in her team.
Guest
I know today’s meeting with a counselor was very important for students so they would have an idea what to expect in the soon-coming high school registration process. I know they need to know this stuff. But do they have to learn it in my class? A class that is tested by the state? A high-stakes class?
Real Estate
While we were in Charleston this weekend, we saw a lot of houses that would come with seven- or eight-figure price tags were they to go on the market. It’s fairly common in the Battery area. In fact, I think you’d be hard-pressed to find something under $800,000.
And then we noticed this condemned building. Likely well over a hundred years old, it has certainly had better days.
The siding has completely deteriorated on one side of the structure.
to the point that the wall insulation and in-wall plumbing is visible.
Continuing around the back, I saw the back steps are completely wrecked,
and the entire back corner of the building is completely open to the elements, missing part of the roof and part of the wall.
Had the house been moderately maintained, it would be worth at least a six-figure sum even if it needed extensive renovation. Had it been meticulously maintained, it would likely fetch close to or even a little over a million dollars. But to do that requires resources, requires money — as the truism goes, one must have money to make money. One falls on had times but is still determined to keep a property in the family (only imagining a previous owner’s situation) until is no longer a possibility.
Whatever the story, all that’s left to do is demolish the building.
Labor Day Weekend 2024 Day 2
Labor Day Weekend 2024 Day 1
Labor Day weekend for many years meant one thing for our family: a weekend with dear friends at their lake house outside of Charlotte. This is the first time in probably six years that we haven’t gone.
Instead, we decided to spend the weekend in Charleston. It’s a favorite destination. There’s the beach at Isle of Palms.
It has lovely streets and historic buildings.
There’s Hyman’s Seafood, which has the most amazing deviled crab on the planet.
August Saturday
I’ve written often enough, I suppose, about how my Saturday rhythm has changed over the last forty years or so. Saturday once meant church, seclusion, no work, no socializing with non-church folks, no sports, no school-related activities. Nothing that could pollute our minds or get our focus away from our sect’s teachings.
Saturday afternoon at 2:30 we met at the IBEW (International Brotherhood of Electrical Workers) union hall. We usually arrived at least an hour earlier, and stayed at least an hour past the 4:30 end time. Every Saturday afternoon, a two-hour meeting during which men of dubious theological education pontificated about the conspiracy theories that comprised the bulk of the organization’s theology. The only saving grace was the playing (and later, as a teenager, socializing) that took place before and after the meeting.
These days, my Saturdays are so much more fluid. Sometimes, there’s a clear outline to the day, with chores in the yard occupying much of my time. Once school starts, I send a fair amount of the morning grading students’ work. Today, for example, I went through 43 kids’ single-paragraph analysis of “The Cask of Amontillado.” They wrote things like this:
The narrator’s story can be trusted because Montressor is confessing his actions to the priest on his deathbed. For example, Montressor talks to the preist because he knows the “nature of [his] soul.” and would not believe that he “gave utterance to a threat”. This proves that the priest knows Montressor very well, probably because the same priest would come to his house often. The priest also would not suppose Montressor killed someone. He would most likely want to admit his wrong doings before he died. Another example is, In “half of a century” no one has disturbed the catacombs or found Fourtunado’s body. It shows that no one has found out what happened to Fortunato 50 years later. This also explains the reasoning why Montressor would tell his priest, because he would be very old by this time; old enough to be on his deathbed. To sum it up, because Montressor is confessing to the priest that he killed Fortunado, this narrative can be reliable.
I worked through the papers in between trimming shrubs, cleaning my bike chain, and cleaning out the basement.
The shrubs — didn’t L just trim those? Her chores on Saturday usually include getting crickets for her frog, shopping (she usually gets the week’s groceries on Fridays, but there’s always something more we need), and cleaning her room.
The bike chain — didn’t I just clean it? Bike maintenance is something I’ve never really enjoyed. It’s so tedious cleaning a chain, replacing cables, adjusting brakes, replacing tires. But the worst of it all is definitely chain cleaning. No matter how carefully I clean it, there’s always a bit of grime left behind. But nothing makes a bike look better than a spotless chain.
Today, I used a new degreaser, and I was fairly pleased with the results. Ultimately, what I’d like is an ultrasonic cleaner that I could just drop the chain into for a few minutes and then let dry. But in the meantime, I’ll use a degreasing solution and toothbrush.
Cleaning out the basement — there’s been a crate of old books that K will eventually take to Goodwill, and among the books are several of my college lit anthologies. I’ve kept them for so long because — well, I really don’t know why. I haven’t cracked one open in so long. I had them at school for a long time, but I’ve run out of shelf space and brought them hope.
That is a story in and of itself. Last year, the state of South Carolina provided each English teacher with $3,500 worth of independent reading books so we could have a classroom library of contemporary, high-interest books. But this year, things changed:
Effective August 1st, 2024, SC Regulation 43-170 requires teachers to produce a complete list of the Instructional Materials (including classroom library books) that are used in or available to a student in any given class, course, or program that is offered, supported, or sponsored by a school, or that are otherwise made available by any District employee to a student on school premises. That list shall be provided upon reasonable request by any parent/guardian of a student in the District.
Greenville County Schools Press Release
In short, we’re not to have any books that even hint at sex. It’s another last-gasp effort of the far right to maintain its stranglehold on young people’s minds, I say to myself. For me, it’s simply a headache, which is why I’ve closed my library: I haven’t made the list yet, and I have no idea when I’ll be able to. In the meantime, I posted a sign explaining the situation, and I look forward to Meet the Teacher night when all parents can see the signs because I’m going to make my presentation standing right beside one.
So I guess in a way, my Saturdays have come full circle.
Ride
Four Fridays in a row now I’ve managed to get a post-school bike ride in. This time, a good friend from work joined me, and we made an evening of it. It seemed like it might be a bit too hot to ride, but once we got on the trail, it was relatively pleasant. Ending the week with a 19.7km mountain bike ride — perfection.
