Mrvaudrey

Category: Classroom Management

  • I should probably explain…

    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 arenbt smart.
    Vaudrey: I know that, I mean your brain is smarter on paper.
    Victor: Your brain canbt 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, itbs 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.

  • First Day of School

    B 7:25 a.m. August 10th, 2011

    Ibm dazed. Feel like Ibm dehydrated, but I know Ibm 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 fivebyear fivebin 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, Ibve 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. Ibd still be anxious, but at least I wouldnbt need to pull over at a Shell station to take care of some business.

    And now Ibm about to arrive to work 20 minutes later than I wanted to get there. Itbs not badbI only have a few things left to do that will probably take about five minutes before students arrive. But still, itbs a bit nerve-wracking.

    7:42 a.m.

    The new job didnbt become real until I arrived on campus and heard the first pre-teen girl hugging her friend and creaming bOmigaaaaaawd! 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, itbs got high pay. Maybe I should check it out.

    Itbs 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 bthe eyeb.

    I used to see bthe 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 Ibm now older and smarter and bigger and stronger than they are, I still get the eye because theybre in a pack and Ibm by myself.

    Just after I pass them, I hear one of the pack yell, bHey, you a teacher?b

    And I know the game. I know theybre 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 bYep.b

    bWell, whatbs your name?b Now the whole pack is watching.

    I quickly turn around and beckon the vocal student to walk with me. bWhat?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 nothingbbut 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, bWait! Whatbs your name?b

    I wave again and say, bWalk with me.b

    He looks back at his friends, looks at me, and says, bNaw, Ibm okay.b And returns to the pack.

    I continue to my class and permit myself a smug grin. I won.