I was reading about Liz's fifth graders antics with the English language, and I thought perhaps it was time for my blog to feature another "my crazy students" story.

In the time that we have our students we have to administer a standardized test called the "qualitative reading inventory," three times, to test reading growth. If you are blessed enough to have your kids for a year you give it in September, January, and June. If you only have them for a semester, you give it in September, November, and January. I gave mine in the days before Thanksgiving, so that I would have enough time to grade the millionty questions that are involved in taking this test. During the test, the kids must read a text and then answer questions about it. The text for the 4th grade reading level is about Amelia Earhart and one of the questions is "What do you think Amelia Earhart was doing right before her plane crashed?"

The answer the test is looking for: Anything mentioning the Bermuda Triangle or flying over the ocean.

Answers my ninth graders gave, included, but are in no way limited to:

* Trying to fix the plane
* Trying to jump out of the plane
* Calling for help
* Praying
* thinking "oh shit, I'm gonna crash"



Dear Standardized tests,
Do not ask students "what do you think..." questions, because while none of those answers is right, all of those answers are reasonable.

Much Hate, Make yourselves less grading intensive,

Miss Bos

So some things happened this weekend that were less than pleasant. I was the closest I've been to telling TfA to take a long walk off a short pier, and take their minions with them. But instead, I know the bigger person would calm themselves down, draw on the words of Col. 3:12-13*, and move on with their lives. So here I am moving on.

It was a decent weekend complete with a coffee house, book store, grading, tv watching, and doing the dishes I'd been putting off all week. We have half days tomorrow and Thursday and the day off on Wednesday. While most teachers are turning Wednesday into a "catch up day" for themselves. I've decided to make it a "I never get to..." day. I'm turning off my alarm clock, staying in my PJ's, knitting, reading for fun, writing for fun, and refusing to let things stress me out. Somedays you need just that. But in order to be prepared for that I have to make it through the rest of the day today, and tomorrow.

Also the Christmas break count down has begun. I'll be arriving in Grand Rapids in 40 days.

I literally can't wait.

Much Love-
Kim








* Therefore, as God's chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you.

I spent last night trying to make the cake pops that I've been seeing all over the internet, but I’m pretty sure that there was something wrong with the chocolate because it kept coming out all goopy instead of nice and smooth. So while I’d intended to make ghosts and skulls, these are still pretty hilarious.

Here’s looking at you kid!

Also, I scored very high on my first teacher evaluation done by the TCHS Principal. He said he was very impressed by my "ingenuity in lesson planning, enthusiasm for the subject area, and ability to manage THOSE students in a way that pushes them forward."

In the words of the volleyball team.... "BOO-YAH!"

I've been not putting up pictures here for a while, but these are kind of awesome.

Over Native American Day weekend, (known as Columbus day to some) I had the pleasure of travelling with another teacher down to Rapid City. We shopped, we ate out, and we ended the night by going to the Black Hills Pow-Wow. It was awesome, so I thought I'd show you some pictures.I live here.


The Pow-wow started with a ceremony to honor the victims of domestic violence, which has been a problem here for many years.

The "tiny-tots" will always be my favorite category at the pow-wow. You can't tell in this picture, but the little boy in the blue bandanna is in traditional regalia and light up shoes. WIN.



These three little girls flirted with Emilie and I all night. Later we found out that they were hoping we had candy.

These two got engaged during the pow-wow, (and I think this is just a really cute picture).

If I'd been a little guy, this man's regalia would have frightened me. He was eerie and also he glows in the dark.

So that was my day in Rapid.
It was a really cool experience.
I'd do it again.

let me tell you about the "credit recovery" kids

I get defensive some days. 

Some days, when people imply that my kids are dumb; 

Some days when my administrator implies that there is nothing I can do to help some kids, that they are lost causes and I should stop thinking about him or her; 

Some days when they hurt each other or themselves, I want to shake them and find a better way to explain to them how much value each of them has as people;

Some days its just a lot to stand up underneath and I get defensive. 

I am not defensive that I am a good teacher. Some days I’m just barely teaching anything. Some days I’m not a very good teacher. 

I’m not a great teacher, but let me show you how smart they are. Let me show you the amazing level to which my kids are able to talk about race and stereotypes in their lives.  

Go ask my kids about civil rights. 

Ask them about THEIR civil rights movement. 

Go ask them what they want from the NEXT civil rights movement. 

My kids are BRILLIANT. 

No, not just the ones that passed my unit assessment. No, not just the ones that participate. Not just the ones that hand in their assignments. All of them. The things they say, the things they notice, the things they’re willing to put on the table. ALL of my kids are SO smart. 

Some days they’re tired. 

Some days they’re angry. 

Some days I’m talking too fast and giving them too much. 

But every day, at least once, they shock me with their brilliance. 

I told a student that he would "make my blog," and I intend to hold fast to that.

Last weekend, I had tonsillitis. I was miserable and was struggling to breathe because my tonsils were so swelled up. So when we started school on Monday, I began a whole new cleaning regiment with every single class wiping their desks with disinfectant at the end of the hour. Most classes appreciate the three minute distraction but my fourth hour has now taken to calling me a cleaning nazi. In that 4th period I have a student who undeniably likes to be the center of attention, for the sake of privacy, lets call him Joe. While the students were set to working on their independent practice Monday, he asked loudly into the silence "May I go to the bathroom." "Only if you wash your hands before coming back," I replied, scribbling a pass for him. He left and re-emerged a few minutes later, making a big scene of not touching the doorknob with his hands, and holding them up like a doctor waiting to be gloved before surgery. Everyone looked up as he loudly managed to get the door open. As he finally entered the room, he announced loudly and proudly, "I am now sterile!" Then sat down. I cracked up, and then continued to crack up as my class, including Joe, looked at me bewildered. When pushed to explain what was so funny I delivered the patented dodge of "I'll tell you when you're older."

Reason #546 I like teaching high schoolers: unintended double entendre.

It has been pointed out that I do not post here often. Not pictures of my classroom. No pictures of my house. Not pictures of my beautiful face.

Unlike working in Detroit, where one could depend on my blog for a story a week. Either a story of my amazing housemates, the terrible and terrific kids of the outpost, or at very least a story of something I was noticing in my own backyard. I'm sorry dear readers, for not being a more active bloggers as my travels take me to educating America's youth in South Dakota. It isn't that there aren't stories. There are stories. Some are great stories of students who blow me away with their brilliance and curiosity, and staff members who floor me with their commitment to student achievement. (TFA is in good company in Mission, South Dakota-these teachers love their students.)

There are other stories too. After a month, there are already stories of days I'd prefer not to think of every again. Stories of faces I'm still trying to forget, of students who sat in my class for one hour, because I failed to engage them and have yet to see them again. There are students I'm trying not to think about because their lives have taken turns that have pulled them out of my sphere of influence. And to worry about what will become of them would do nothing but make me feel more powerless. Oh yes, there are stories, the good, the bad, and the haphazard.

Part of the reason I'm not telling these stories is that there is no time. In between planning for 2 different classes, coaching, grading, taking a masters class and doing the things I need to do to survive (like cooking, dishes, and laundry). There's just no time to tell these stories the way I'd want to tell them. I'd want to tell them in a way that makes you see and feel exactly what I was seeing and feeling. I'd want you to be on this adventure too.

The other part of the reason that I'm not storytelling is that I'm carefully negotiating how to best accomplish that feat, while still maintaining my professional anonymity. One of the things we commonly forget is that while we assume these blogs are being read by family and friends, putting things on the internet means putting them out there to be read. So for the safety, well-being, and pride of my students and their families, I'm still negotiating how to tell these stories that have made me laugh and cry so much in the last 28 days.

So that's where I am. I have not forgot you dear readers, all 6 of you. I'm just measuring my time, and my skills to find the best way to relate my little world to the great big world. But never fear, I'll be back.

-K

Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil; cling to what is good.

-Romans 12:9