My wife asks every day how my day was, and a common response is “regular”. It’s not a dynamic way to start my response, but I’m quite thankful for my new job, and “regular” doesn’t mean what it used to. My wife probably got tired of hearing “stressful, exhausting, frustrating, and I wanna quit” when asking about my day.
Also, I love that a “regular” day still involves me laughing during every class. How many of us have jobs where you get a good laugh every couple hours?
Here are a couple all-stars from today:
Carl: I’m a vegan now.
Trey: You hate meat!
Linda: Why do you hate meat?
Julia: I thought vegans were hippies.
Mr. Vaudrey: Okay, everyone stop. Carl, explain what a vegan is.
Carl: Well, I can’t eat things with dairy in them, like bread, like pizza, like chocolate…
Ladariana: …like La-Dairy-ana.
Nathan: Aw! You gave me dumb crayons! I want the blue one, not the black one.
Jay (in his best tough-guy voice): Was’ wrong wit’ black?!
(It should be noted that Jay is about 70 pounds, has braces, glasses, a super smile, brags about his mom’s cooking, and takes Gifted classes. He’s not quite a thug.)
Sam: Mr. Vaudrey, I’m out of bathroom passes, so can I, like, stay a minute after class or something? I really gotta go.
See? Even a “regular” day is delightful.
Also, it took me about 21 seconds to submit my grades. No printing, no signing, no amendments or second-guessing. I love my new job.
In closing, here’s a photo of some actual work I did today.
In my job, I banter with students quite a bit. I record a lot of their chatter on my computer–it makes for good writing later.
Avery: None of the solutions work!
Vaudrey: You have to show your work on paper. Paper is smarter than your brain.
Daniel: Nuh-uh! Paper is made out of trees and trees arenb t smart.
Vaudrey: I know that, I mean your brain is smarter on paper.
Victor: Your brain canb t get out of your body or you die.
Mark: Mr. Vaudrey, I heard about this guy on the History channel who ran, um, from San something all the way to LA without stopping. It was like three marathons in a row.
Nymnh: Duh, itb s called Forrest Gump.
Vaudrey: Forrest Gump is a fictional story.
Nymnh: No! Then why is there Bubba Gump Shrimp Company?
This particular short post isn’t about those, however. On Wednesday (before Nancy’s Christmas gift on Friday), Jasmine came into my class and said, “I brought the shirt!”
Now before you write angry comments about what a terrible person I am, there is a backstory:
In my class of Honors students, I permit a little more time for non-math chatter because the actual math doesn’t take them as long as the other classes. I permit some chatter in all my classes because I want students on my side. One day in the Honors class went like this:
Vaudrey: Good morning, first period. This is as loud as I can talk, so go easy on me today.
Student 1: What’s wrong?
Vaudrey: Eh, I’m just a little sick.
Student 2: You should stay home!
Vaudrey: I could, but it’s easier just to come in. Besides, who would teach the class?
Student 3: I would!
Student 2: When we’re sick, we stay home.
Vaudrey: Well… I’m more important than you.
This, of course, was met with rolling in the aisles and several rounds of “Aw, naw!” We all had a little chuckle and Jasmine’s shrill voice rang out.
Jasmine: I’m gonna put that on a T-shirt!
Several more guffaws and rounds of “I’ll buy that shirt!” and the class went on to discuss the addition of polynomials.
Well, a few weeks later, I got a homemade Christmas present that I wore proudly all day.
Here’s the front of it.
Obviously, I explained the shirt to every teacher, student, and staffer that saw it. As a stand-alone article, I probably won’t wear it to the mall or anything, but as a student gift, it’s fabulous.
And if she thought I meant what i said, she wouldn’t have made the shirt.
(Names and details have been changed for confidentiality.)
b b &and was recently examined for ADHD.b
I lean back at my desk withB relief and close the e-mail. I wonder if she got prescribed anything. Maybe that will calm her down.
Thatb s the problem with students like Nancyb they really challenge your teaching philosophy.
On the one side, I want all of my students to succeed and learn Algebra in my class. On the other hand, I would secretly love for a test to render Nancy a b Special-Edb label, so she could have an aide to supervise her, or (even easier) get her out of my class. About 92% of me wants her to succeed in my class with no help.
But that 8% of meb & oh, I hope for a release from her yelling, leaving her desk, poking other students, standing next to me during a lesson with her hand up, and other impulsive middle-schooler behaviors. But that 8% is present in every one of my sighs, every exasperated response, and every time I rub my temples as she asks, b Mr. Vaudrey, am I annoying?b
Yes, Nancy. Yes.
You annoy me and every other student in the class when you call out to them across the room during a test, when you ask questions to people who arenb t even looking at you, and especially when you monitor whob s next for the bathroom pass. Youb re annoying when you proclaim that youb ll buy students expensive birthday gifts, but never follow through.
Itb s annoying, even though Ib m pretty sure your mom is unemployed, and your promise to buy Brandon an iPad is all pomp to mask the shame.
Nancyb s mom is baffled at how to control her. There are rumors that she has Nancy stand in the corner for hours at a time just so she can have some peace. The staff at school isnb t sure where Dad is, but we know that the family doesnb t have much money. Nancy waited weeks to get glasses and didnb t bring any of the four items she promised for the class party.
So itb s Thursday before Winter Break. Nancy comes to my class before school starts.
b Good morning, Nancy. Youb re about 5 hours early to class.b
She smiles, shuffles her feet and avoids eye contact. b Umb & Mr. Vaudrey? Likeb & my mom works at Nordstromb s andb & umb & I didnb t know what to get youb & sob & umb & like, web & uh. We got you this.b She holds out a small, unassuming gift bag with a bent tag and a card. To: Mr. Vaudrey. From: Nancy.
b Thank you, Nancy! This is the first gift Ib ve gotten this year. Thank you very much.b I shake her hand and hold the gift still, hoping to signal to her that itb s polite to leave after you give a gift. She gets the hint and clumps off to first period in her too-big shoes.
Back behind my desk, I open the card first, like the good boy my mother raised. The card, written in Nancyb s pointed scrawl says, b Mr. Vaudrey thank you very much for help me in my work and helping me be a good person inclass.b
I peel back the tissue paper. Inside the bag are cologne samples from Nordstromb s.
From a low-income family who wanted to give a gift to their daughterb s teacher.
Ib m dazed. Feel like Ib m dehydrated, but I know Ib m not. My mouth is dry and my tongue has the bitter taste that one gets before throwing up. I had to pull over in Etiwanda to have an emergency bathroom break and my stomach continues to curdle.
All this after four years of teaching, the first day of year fiveb year fiveb in the classroom, and 25 thirteen-year-olds still make me nervous on the first day of school.
And this morning felt like I was force-feeding myself. Every bite of granola I had to wash down with apple juice.
Since I was a kid, Ib ve gotten anxious before big events. I can recall having to pull over on the way to the city-wide 12K when I was in middle school. Recently, when I climbed Mt. San Gorgonio, I had to squat in the snow on the side of highway 38 and wipe with snow.
It was tingly.
I wonder if taking something would make these days easier. Ib d still be anxious, but at least I wouldnb t need to pull over at a Shell station to take care of some business.
And now Ib m about to arrive to work 20 minutes later than I wanted to get there. Itb s not badb I only have a few things left to do that will probably take about five minutes before students arrive. But still, itb s a bit nerve-wracking.
7:42 a.m.
The new job didnb t become real until I arrived on campus and heard the first pre-teen girl hugging her friend and creaming b Omigaaaaaawd! How was your summerrrrrrrr?b
Up until then, I thought Hey, I got offered a new job, I might take it.
Or This job sounds real good, itb s got high pay. Maybe I should check it out.
Itb s now my new job; I work at Mountain View Middle School.
I am Mr. Vaudrey. The math teacher.
4:47 p.m.
This morning, I saw a pack of boys as I walked by, and they gave me b the eyeb .
I used to see b the eyeb when I was a student in middle school, and packs sought to pick on me. It means that the pack is sizing you up for weaknesses, seeing if they can pick on you to make themselves feel better. Even though Ib m now older and smarter and bigger and stronger than they are, I still get the eye because theyb re in a pack and Ib m by myself.
Just after I pass them, I hear one of the pack yell, b Hey, you a teacher?b
And I know the game. I know theyb re looking for a way to bend me around their will, and thus, take some of the power from me, the teacher. So without stopping, I turn slightly and say b Yep.b
b Well, whatb s your name?b Now the whole pack is watching.
I quickly turn around and beckon the vocal student to walk with me. b What?b I beckon again and keep walking.
I know that, if I stop walking, then he is the cause of my stop. It sounds trivial. It sounds like nothingb but then he just made a teacher do something. He was in control, he bent the grown-up to his will.
I can hear him scampering behind me and as I round a corner of a building, he tries again, b Wait! Whatb s your name?b
I wave again and say, b Walk with me.b
He looks back at his friends, looks at me, and says, b Naw, Ib m okay.b And returns to the pack.
I continue to my class and permit myself a smug grin. I won.
b Mr. Vaudrey, you look mad. What did the sub say about us?b
b Good afternoon.b I growled, looking through Jackie as she clumped through my door. b Take a seat.b
The look on her face showed that my plan was working.
Once the bell rang, I had 24 students in their seats glancing nervously around; they knew something was up, and it wasnb t gonna be pretty.
Brrrrrrring. b Have a seat. Once again, you were terrible for the sub. Once again, you embarrassed me. Start on the warm-up.b The usual upbeat music was silent, the normally boisterous class was sullen and quiet, andB my smile was replaced with an exhausted scowl (which was only about 10% legitimate and 90% facial drama).
I forced this look on my face all class period. It was not easy, despite how she makes it look.
Thankfully, my two Honors classes were delightful for the sub, working diligently in their groups to finish the art project. One of those students today actually asked this question, verbatim:
b Mr. Vaudrey, can I participate in answering the next problem?b
I know. Heb s a cherub.
My fourth period, however, despite being pleasant and respectful for me, turned into a class-ful of the flesh-eating scarab beetles from the Mummy movies, devouring any substitute teacher who dares to cross the threshold of my holy classroom.
Not THAT kind of Beatles takeover.
Naturally, this reflects poorly on me. If a dog bites the neighbor, you blame the owner.
My fourth period bit the neighbor, shredded the neighbor’s best shoes, and peed on the carpet. It all happened while I was away from home, so I canb t discipline them; they wonb t know what they did wrong. After reading the sub report, I wished I had a rolled-up newspaper.
In the past two or three bad sub reports, I had given them a stern lecture, but eventually relented and gone on with my plan for the day. I’m too nice, as some students put in their evaluation a few weeks ago.
Today, I knew that, if change were to occur, it had to start with me. I resolved that I could be the grumpy teacher, at least for a day.
After doing the warm-up, presentations, sharing about good things in our lives, and going over the homework, the students had been waiting for 25 lingering, somber minutes to know what the sub said about them. I let them have it, exactly as Mr. Lindsay wrote on my form:
b Notes about Period 4: Rowdy & loud class. There was really only one student in each group that doing all of the work while the others messed around. I had to spread the groups out to help keep them focused & not visiting with other groups, but most groups did not finish.
P.S. I kept the whole class after the bell rang.”
I sighed. b I was surprised by this last part; the sub wrote some names of students who were especially disruptive. Some of those names were students that I told him were trustworthy and helpful. That surprised me.b When I said surprised, I hope that my tone implied incensed.
See? Incensed.
After staring at the paper and making no eye contact, I slowly looked up at the class, as if my eyes were weary from the report they had just read. b Daniel, you were helpful and respectful when Kelsey got stuck on the warm-up a few minutes ago. Where was that Daniel yesterday?b
b Ohb & uhb &b Daniel grins, clearly uncomfortable.
I take a labored breath. b Clearly you guys donb t respect me like I respect you. I guess some things have to change. Today, web re trying a different type of class, so we can practice being professional students. Is there anything that you want to say about the sub?b
Ib ve been talking for a few minutes now, and their silence shows their remorse. A few hands raise, and I call on James. b He had a funny voice.b
I turn to face James fully. His smile evaporates as he realizes that nobody laughed at his joke. A few students hiss at him as I tilt my head in a confused frustration.
Oops, said James.
b Thatb s what you have to say? After all the sub had to say about your behavior, thatb sb & you know, just forget it. Put your hands down, let’s move on.b
Some studentsb eyes widen; this is not normal attitude for me. I dramatically drop the stack of papers onto the desk in front of me and ask Kira to pass them out. Earlier this week, Jamesb cute comment would have only garnered a dismissive wave from me, but today is not the day to be cute with Mr. Vaudrey.
The class remains silent as I instruct them to work quietly for 15 minutes alone on the review sheet. I hear Stef whisper, b Man, we usually play games to review.b
The rest of the day was spent in their seats, speaking only when asked, and working diligently. As the class neared the end of the day, I made a point to encourage little successes.
b Okay, eyes on meb & Oh, that was good! You got focused right away! See, I knew you had it in you, now bring that out when the sub is here, too.b
The last four minutes of class, 86 minutes of drill-sargeantry had taken its toll on me, and I allowed them to start their homework in pairs, chatting quietly. As the bell rang, I held up the sub report and ripped it in half.
b Letb s have this be the last one of these, eh? Have a great day, Ib ll see you tomorrow.b
Well, Thursday, Ib m taking a day off and going to an Exponents and Polynomials workshop with my team, then I go to Palm Springs on Friday and Saturday for a Math conference. I plan on spending three days of my weekend factoring and graphing.
Typically, most my b work lifeb is considered pretty boring. Not many would ask follow-up questions about the Math conference and even fewer about Polynomials.
More people are interested in me driving 80 minutes BACK from Palm Springs on Friday night for a CD release party at my house, then returning to the conference in the morning. (Click Here to get a taste of Scott Ryan’s new album.)
One aspect of my weekend at the conference, however, bears mentioning, because it got me jazzed.
Ib ve been math-crushing on Dan Meyer for over a year now. While I don’t want to clumsily re-hash his talk, the video above and his blog paint a pretty clear picture. His desire to give math a makeover has blossomed into an obsession, leading him into a doctoral program at Stanford to reform mathematics.
That’s a short blog summary of a dynamic 85-minute presentation to a full house in the middle of the Palm Desert. Midway through, my colleague turns to me and says, b I think I have a crush on him, too!b
Aside from Meyer’sB inspirationalB lesson, the conference was pretty regular. Four 90-minute math lectures a day, 30 minute passing periods, and a lunch. It was similar to high school, but if everybody was the Honors Student.
True story: in a session, one guy got visibly upset about how the slope is notB an attribute of the line, but rather a property between two points.
Picture somebody getting close to tears about how Snookie is getting a bad rap, but everybody in the room was there to talk about how pop culture is the downfall of society. It was kinda like that.
In addition to taking home several pages of good math ideas and enrichment activities, I ran into my old Teacher Mentor, Kellie [Webb] Medley. I hadn’t seen her in 3 years and had miles of compliments to give. I babbled for about a quarter-mile as we walked from our conference room to the lobby, thanking her for investing in me and supporting me during the hardest job I ever had.
Here are a few great ideas (and quotes) she gave me during my first year teaching.
You know how to tell when a teenager is lying? When there’s words coming outta their mouth.
James, you were talking again, go sit over there. “I wasn’t talking.” Let’s not have an argument about it, let it go.
Maria, you’re staying after class to finish that assignment. “Pfff. Whatever, I’ll just walk out.” Ha!. You gonna run me over? Siddown!
(During lesson planning) What do you want students to do by the end of the lesson? How is this making that happen?
(After a lesson) What do youB think when wrong with that lesson? What can you change for tomorrow?
There are dozens more good ideas that I stole from her, including one that made its way into my Master’s Thesis.
Between Dan Meyer, Kellie Medley, and Tiffany (colleague) I had a great time and left very fulfilled.
Now on to enlighten and stretch young minds.
I have never received a student drawing that I didn’t like. Here are a few.
This was today, one of my honor students skipped to my desk to show me. The delicate sketches of honor students bear littleB resemblanceB to the drug-induced sketches of Kidz in the Hood.
Case in point. This beauty fell out of a student binder, probably from last year.
This was a recent gift. I think this student drew the entireB thing, then decided to make it about me.
Another drawing brought to you by marijuana. As you can see, I taught at schools where the students viewed Christianity … differently.
Then again, I’d rather be a sheep than wearing a leash with a cross in my ass.
There are a few things that I do pretty well in class. One of them is getting quickly and easily thrown off-track when students make me laugh. The other is review games.
Earlier this week, a teammate sent me a Jeopardy game for Equations.
So we played Jeopardy.
Students volunteered to be Alex Trebek and select the category on the projector. “Combining Like Terms for 200: Three ex plus… uh… you can just read it.”
The students caught on to Jeopardy very quickly.
Vaudrey: b &and in Final Jeopardy, each player wagers part of their score on the right answer.
Student: Oh, man! I donb t know anything! Can I wager negative?
Vaudrey: Then you would lose points if you got it right.
Student: But Ib d gain points when I get it wrong.
Clearly, Randy understands the unit on negative numbers from last week.
I want the whole class to get a shot, so I had to rotate them out every three questions or so.
Vaudrey: James, make room for the newcomers.
Stef: Ib m a newcomer.
Daniel: Ib m a cucumber.
After Jeopardy, we played a game I made up called Drag Race. Using this projection on the wall.
Each team decides on their icon and the icon advances as their team advances.
White Students: We’ll be Team Cracker!
Vaudrey: That’s an Apple Pie.
White Students: Oh… well, that’s cool, too.
And after a few minutes of play:
Daniel: Justin Bieber is beating Mexico! Aw, hell, no!
b Mr. Vaudrey, Ib m stuck on this problem.b Nathan waved me over during after-school tutoring one day in April 2011.
b Okay, let me have a look.b I said, leaning over his table.
b Ah,b I straightened and strode to the whiteboard, pulling a marker from my back pocket. b I recommend plugging each point into the function and seeing if they work. Three of them wonb t work. The one left over is the correct answer.b
Nathan scrunched his nose and furrowed his brow. b That seems like going around the b & the idea. Isnb t there, like, a formula or something?b
b Well, in this case, the line is the solution to that function, so youb re seeing which of these points fit inside the solution.b
Nathan leaned back. b Yeah, I get it. It just doesnb t feel like good math.b
I laughed, b Yeah, well sometimes in real life, you gotta try stuff until something works.b
[
B b Mister Vaudreeeeee!b Natalie screeched, sprinting across the classroom with Jenny in tow. b Somebody took my pink pen.b
Itb s January of 2008, my first year teaching. I am drowning in the flow of my responsibilities without the skills to paddle my way out. We just got back into class from a fire drill and Natalie is distraught.
b It was her Christmas present, Mr. Vaudrey.b Jenny states with a somber face. b It was a Gel Sparkle.b
b Okay.b I rub my eyes, deciding if this is worth my trouble. Deep in my psyche is a youth pastor, feeling the need to be liked by my students and wanting to play a little joke on the other students. I lean in close and say, b Watch this.b
b Alright, listen up!b I stride purposefully from my desk to the front of the class. b Whoever took Natalieb s gel pen, give it back or the whole class gets detention. I am not kidding!b
The irony being that I totally was kidding. I had no intention of giving anybody detention, especially if Natalie got her pen back.
This was an interesting time in my teaching career. I recognized the importance of honesty and the reward that had to be inherent.
B If Chris stole Natalie’s pen and gave it back, he took a risk and was honest. If I give him detention, he learns that itb s better to be sneaky and avoid consequence.
If I give Chris thanks for stepping up and congratulate his boldness to take responsibility, I show him that redemption is more gratifying than sneakiness
Yet in this situation, Ib m prepared to make an idle threat to the whole class in hopes that Natalie could possibly have her stupid pen returned.
Nobody produced the pen, and nobody got detention.
The students left knowing that I sometimes make threats where I donb t follow through. If I were a student, I would store that information for later. Perhaps when I get in trouble, I can point out Mr. Vaudreyb s inconsistency with b But you didnb t take away Adrianb s phone when he was texting!b
Later that year, two students had their pencils stolen during fire drills. I ignored it.
[
Ehhn! Ehhn! Ehhn!
The students looked up from their books as the fire alarm grabbed their attention.
b Alright, folks. Grab your pencils and head outside!b I shout over the siren and point towards the door.
b Pencils? Why are web b
b No time to ask questions! Itb s a fire drill! Get outside if you donb t wanna burn, child!b With eyes wide, I gestured dramatically toward the door.
The students smile, pocket their pencils and head out the door in a bunch. Once in the evacuation zone, I line them up and take attendance.
Back in the classroom 20 minutes later, a student asks, b Mr. Vaudrey, why did we take our pencils?b
I think back to Natalie and her stolen Sparkle pen and say. b Firewood. We donb t want to give the fire anything more to burn. Now, let’s talk more about Vectors.b
Don’t get me wrong, some blue-collar jobs are great. I was a janitor for 4 and a half years and I loved probably four of them. It’s incredibly gratifying to work with your hands and immediately see results. I left that job due to a sense of typical entitlement: I’m about to get a college degree; I can do better than this.
I am currently a Geometry teacher at an arts school and I have found a medium where I’m able to interact with students, enlighten supple minds, and quip fun facts about Latin words and Religion. No job is perfect, but while I may voice my concerns to my wife and close friends, I am still bursting with gratitude that I have a job that doesn’t suck. It’s also in a field that I actually like. I’ve seen dozens of aging Baby Boomers working the Returns counter at Wal-Mart and none of them are too happy to be doing it.
To back up my claim that the recession is good for our kids: here are a few direct quotes from the internet:
Play unnoticeably on your browser at work!
Today, my co-workers decided to play a round of “Who can piss off the boss the most?”. I didn’t play, but I still won. FML
Check out this video! NSFW!
There are 37 million Google results for “kill time at work”, including this article on ehow.com, which gives “productive” ways to piddle away the weekday. I had to look up NSFW a few weeks ago, while I was reading an article online (It was during my break period; don’t judge me).
In the movie Office Space, Jennifer Aniston laments “Everybody hates their job”. Unfortunately, this sentiment is a poor sampling of Humanity and an even poorer sampling of the United States. An individual can make $9 an hour testing video games; our country is awesome.
Enter the recession.
Suddenly, those who hated their jobs are wishing they had it back. Suddenly, $40,000 a year isn’t a right, it’s a privilege, and you may have to actually… *sigh*… apply yourself and earn the paycheck. Suddenly, if you hate your job, you aren’t “everybody”, you’re an ungrateful douche, and probably a little arrogant also.
Hence, the growing “Get a College Degree or Live with your Parents Forever” movement gains more steam as even Wal-Mart employees have 12 years experience in retail and a law degree.
Now, the entitled American teenager who plans to work as a receptionist with his/her high school degree must get some experience, get a degree in Administration, and most likely have a skill set.
You know, other than texting and hiding gin in an Arrowhead bottle.
Like, can I help you?
Further, college students who have accepted allowances from their parents during college in the past must now compete for Starbucks and Albertson’s jobs and… go to work often. I recall sleeping through at least two shifts at Subway when I was in college, in addition to arriving late and leaving early. If I were to do that now, there would be a dozen other collegiates looking to earn $7.50 an hour to sling pressed turkey. How else will we afford EasyMac?
Yup. It appears that the United States will be joining the rest of the world in budgeting, saving money, reducing debt, raising productivity, and planning ahead.
Except that 67% of us are obese while we do it. Happy Hanukkah.
