Mrvaudrey

Category: Teaching

  • Getting Pinked, riffed, or “having probationary status terminated”

    bDid you hear? Mr. Avery got RIFfed!b

    bYeah, I got pinked again this year.b

    bMr. Vaudrey? Hi, we got the listb& and youbre on it.b

    Non-teachers, you have no doubt heard one of the above terms used around this time of year. Herebs what they mean for teachers:

    Beware the Ides of March

    Every year by March 15th, the California Education Code (bEd Codeb for short) states that teachers must be notified if their contract isnbt renewed for the next school year.

    This could be for several reasons:

    1. The teacher is brand new to teaching and itbs just not a good fit. This way, he or she can get a new job, a fresh start, without saying bI got firedb.
    2. The state has no money, so schools have to make the same services available to kids, but with less staff, so itbs a Reduction In Force (bRIFb for short)
    3. The district has no moneyb&
    4. The school has no moneyb&
    5. The city has no moneyb&
    6. The teacher is new to the school and this is a good way to see if they will work out: Fire them after a year, then if you want them back, you re-hire.

    In our district, we have over 300 positions being cut.

    Thatbs a lot. Itbs about one in five.

    “Anybody with levitation skills gets pinked. It’s a new district policy.”

    Herebs why teachers make a big fuss about it:

    Suppose you work at the GAP.

    “Hi, I’m Devon. Can I get you a pooka-shell necklace?”

    You were brand new to the retail business and hired on a bProbationaryb basis. You work very hard and sell a lot of modestly priced polo shirts.

    Then March 15th comes, you are told that you might be fired, for no reason, in June. Do you keep working hard until then?

    “These pencils aren’t going to perch themselves.”

    b&cuz itbs really tempting to take your time stocking the capri pants after that. Whatbs the point? Youbre out of a job in a few months.

    Some of your co-workers start using up their sick days and some outright quit.

    Still unclear?

    Suppose you play football.

    Your season ends and you are told your contract is over. Itbs pretty common, but you canbt help feeling that youbd be kept if youbd made more tackles or touchdowns.

    You quite enjoyed playing for your team, the Colts, but they may not have the money to hire you back.

    Do you snoop around other teams for a job? If you find one, youbll just be starting out there at the bottom of the ladder, ready to have the same thing happen next year.

    Do you wait it out and see what happens? They all like you on the Colts, but what if the season starts and they canbt afford to keep you? You then have no team to play for. Is that better than playing for the Redskins?

    [This is probably a good place for some snide remark about the Redskins.]

    My first year teaching was a disaster. It was so bad, that I got pinkedB in late January. They didnbt even wait until March to let me know that I was done.

    I stuck it out, though. I worked just as hard all the way to mid-June, harder perhapsbknowing that I had nothing to lose and I could try new things.

    At least this year, I made it all the way to Pi Day.

    Also, if you work at a charter school, as I previously did, they are exempt from the March 15th rule, as I wrote previously in anger.

    **Credit to Laura, from whom I stole the bold formatting idea.

  • The Failure of the California Public School on February 25th

    First the good news.

    Today, I taught the Quadratic Formalab& thatbs not the good news. I taught it by humming bPop Goes the Weaselb all period. Then I put a slide on the wall with the quadratic formula.

    Intimidating, right? Then I sang the Quadratic Formula song, which sounds like this:

    Two out of my three classes burst into applause. Ibm feeling pretty good.

    Now the bad news: our kids are dumb.

    The future leaders of the world arebright nowbnot too bright.

    Someday, they will be presidents and doctors and professors, but now they areB about as sharp as … a bowling pin.

    "I am SO gonna tweet about this later!"
    “I am SO gonna tweet about this later!”

    If youbre a parentb& well, Ibd say that Ibm sorry. But odds are that you already know; you can’t leave them alone with a sharp object.

    In my class, we do a Jeopardy-question-of-the-day, using my Jeopardy day-calendar. Herebs todaybs question:

    This countrybs largest lake shares the name with the country; the second-largest lake shares the name with the capital city.

    In my class, I expect chaos for a couple minutes as kids yell stuff. I make a point to only call on students with hands raised and give props to only those students if they guess correctly.

    Inevitably, however, students spew stupidity anyway.

    Alex: Mississippi!
    Mr. Vaudrey: Thatbs not a country.
    Ryan: Missouri?
    Mr. Vaudrey: Guys. That is also not a country.
    Zach: Oh, Lake Perris!
    Mr. Vaudrey: Guys! United States is a country, California is a state, Los Angeles is a county, Moreno Valley is a city.
    Antonio: Wait, I thought Los Angeles was a city?
    Susana: Webre in Riverside County, right?
    TJ: No! Riverside is a city.
    Mr. Vaudrey:B Yes, and itbs also a county. Riverside is a city and a county. [Deep breath] Okay, think of it this way: B Mexico is a country, Michoacan is a state.
    Alejandra: Donbt you mean Michigan?
    Mr. Vaudrey: No! I meant Michoacan! I wouldbve said Michigan if I meant Michigan!
    Alejandra: Well, you pronounce words funny.
    Alex: Oh! Is it Kentucky?
    Mr. Vaudrey [grabs two fistfuls of hair, through gritted teeth] Nope. Also a state.
    Daria: Europe!
    Zach: Thatbs a continent!
    Daria: b&waitb& thenb& the country that contains Europe.
    Ryan: Oh, that’s Africa!

    Thatbs right. Webll be retiring in a world that our students will be governing.

    I sure hope they can use the big-boy scissors by then.

    “Dad says I gotta wear this when I brush my teeth.”

    And for the record. It’s Nicaragua.

    ~V

  • A Math Valentine

    I had a sub on Thursday, and the students’ assignment was a Valentine’s Card using math vocabulary (and the math terms underlined).

    Here are some of the all-stars. Click on the first one to see a slideshow.

    So, I stole a few lines, and here is a letter to my wife, the lovely and talented Andrea Vaudrey (with the math terms underlined):

    To my Valentine:
    Our love is like an irrational equation; it can’t be simplified.
    You are a factor of my life.
    If we distribute our love, we can be together forever. Together, we make a perfect square.
    I love you like a coefficient loves its variable.
    You are the square to my root, the solution to all of my equations. The slope of my love for you is ever increasing.
    We fit together like coordinates on an axis.
    You are the solution to my New Year’s resolution. Our love is a slope that increases with all my hope that is so dope.
    I less than three you.
    For my love, like pi, is neverending.

    Happy Valentime’s Day.

    ~Matt

    UPDATE February 20, 2012: Thanks to Scoop.it for featuring this post, and for opening my eyes to what a fabulous online magazine you are.

    UPDATE February 11, 2013:B And here’s the B Math Valentines Card GuideB thatB I used. I’d give credit… if I knew where I got it.

  • The New Regular Day

    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.

  • 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.

  • Nancy’s Christmas Gift

    (Names and details have been changed for confidentiality.)

    bb&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.

    Thatbs the problem with students like Nancybthey 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 bSpecial-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, bMr. 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 arenbt even looking at you, and especially when you monitor whobs next for the bathroom pass. Youbre annoying when you proclaim that youbll buy students expensive birthday gifts, but never follow through.

    Itbs annoying, even though Ibm pretty sure your mom is unemployed, and your promise to buy Brandon an iPad is all pomp to mask the shame.

    Nancybs 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 isnbt sure where Dad is, but we know that the family doesnbt have much money. Nancy waited weeks to get glasses and didnbt bring any of the four items she promised for the class party.

    So itbs Thursday before Winter Break. Nancy comes to my class before school starts.

    bGood morning, Nancy. Youbre about 5 hours early to class.b

    She smiles, shuffles her feet and avoids eye contact. bUmb& Mr. Vaudrey? Likeb& my mom works at Nordstrombs andb& umb& I didnbt 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.

    bThank you, Nancy! This is the first gift Ibve gotten this year. Thank you very much.b I shake her hand and hold the gift still, hoping to signal to her that itbs 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 Nancybs pointed scrawl says, bMr. 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 Nordstrombs.

    From a low-income family who wanted to give a gift to their daughterbs teacher.

  • 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.

  • That wasn’t fun, but it was necessary


    bMr. Vaudrey, you look mad. What did the sub say about us?b

    bGood afternoon.b I growled, looking through Jackie as she clumped through my door. bTake 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 wasnbt gonna be pretty.

    Brrrrrrring. bHave 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:

    bMr. Vaudrey, can I participate in answering the next problem?b

    I know. Hebs 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 canbt discipline them; they wonbt 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:

    bNotes 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. bI 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. bDaniel, you were helpful and respectful when Kelsey got stuck on the warm-up a few minutes ago. Where was that Daniel yesterday?b

    bOhb& uhb&b Daniel grins, clearly uncomfortable.

    I take a labored breath. bClearly you guys donbt respect me like I respect you. I guess some things have to change. Today, webre 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

    Ibve been talking for a few minutes now, and their silence shows their remorse. A few hands raise, and I call on James. bHe 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.

    bThatbs what you have to say? After all the sub had to say about your behavior, thatbsb& 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, bMan, 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.

    bOkay, 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.

    bLetbs have this be the last one of these, eh? Have a great day, Ibll see you tomorrow.b

  • The most exciting boring thing I do

    “So, Matt; what are you up to this weekend?”

    Well, Thursday, Ibm 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 bwork 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.

    Ibve 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.

    Sounds like quite a job. Herebs why itbll work.


    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, bI 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.

  • Portraits

    I have never received a student drawing that I didn’t like. Here are a few.

    20110928-160347.jpg
    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.

    20110928-161847.jpg
    Case in point. This beauty fell out of a student binder, probably from last year.

    20110929-114306.jpg
    This was a recent gift. I think this student drew the entireB thing, then decided to make it about me.

    20110929-114444.jpg
    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.