CATCH MY WORDS to find help with teaching strategies, resources, or to enjoy a laugh or music. Blog connected to Catch My Products, the gifted department store with resources for K - 12.
Catch My Products
Click on the image to visit Catch My Products.
My humorous thoughts about life.
"My Humorous and Helpful Thoughts About Teaching / Educational Resources for Your
Classroom / Music and Random Fun"
Perhaps you've seen the owls circulating Facebook.
I am totally the owl on the right; so to celebrate all of us losing our minds, I've created a logic problem about us at the end of the year. It's called Tired Teachers, and it might give your third through fifth grade students a chuckle when they read about what exhausted teachers do in May.
As I listen to my older sister saw logs, I am reminded of the best educational tidbits I've received, all from her. Bev and I grew up sharing an attic bedroom; however, I never snapped a picture of the slanted ceiling, yellow walls, green carpet, or gigantic window overlooking our driveway. This is why our childhood room is only in my mind and not on my blog.
Bev was notorious for talking in her sleep, thus giving me a great education and entertainment. While sleeping, she told me about being in the corner with Rusty. Mm hm. My favorite nighttime activity was the time I told her how she didn't like chocolate then listened to vehement sleep cries that she did. Then with further prompting, she begged me for the nonexistent candy bar.
Bev also educated me during our waking hours. Before I entered middle school, she explained the full list of dirty words and what they meant; however, she refused to tell me the meaning of the "f word" because it was just too naughty to explain. I'm still waiting to find out.
To make sure I never rotted out my lungs with a horrid habit, Bev forced an unfiltered cigarette on me in grade school. Yep! It was nasty enough that to this day I am not a smoker.
I am currently in Dayton because her daughter just had a bridal shower. I passed a naughty bit of lingerie to Bev's daughter. This thing was given to me twenty-six years ago by guess who? ... although sister Barb was just as much to blame. I'd go into detail about it, but knowing that my daughters frequent my blog, I best not inform you about that bit of education. I am, however, happy to say that it is no longer mine.
Ahh, education. I bet you thought my post would be all about my teaching job. Psych!
This week, Writer's Post has asked us to write a page from our brag book or something we'd like to share. My share session reminds me of the senior citizens who love to boast and brag over whose back aches the most or who has more problems. My post is something like that.
I've been a lousy blog hopper, I know, but life is hard with the day job. Did you know I leave for work every morning around 7:00 and don't get home until after 6:00? Plus, I take the work home with me so that if home commitments don't get in the way, I'll spend another hour doing more just to keep afloat. If I don't fall into bed by ten, I can barely function the next day, which isn't fair to kids who need a smiling face at school. Thank G-d for the week-ends where I can finally drop on a blog or two and maybe leave a post... but, not this one. "Silly Sunday" Erica is home from college, and I'd rather visit with her than you. No offense, but blog hopping takes time that I don't have. I'm doing well to post on mine.
Why is teaching so time consuming? To start, not only do I plan lessons, but I'm also a special education teacher who must write IEPs and conduct meetings with everyone on my case load. At 91, my student population is small compared to other years. During my planning time, often occupied with parent meetings, I'm trying to find the time to give achievement tests to two little guys. However, I can't slack off because I'm due for a "pop in" evaluation any day now. I've been keeping on my toes for the pop in since January, and the stress is killing me.
I'm thoroughly sick of the public criticizing us for not doing miracles with the young generation. These kids are working harder than I ever did at their age, and the curriculum is tough. Did you solve algebraic equations in third grade? Did you diagram complex sentences in fifth? In all fairness, my students are intellectually gifted, but still! I'm expected to show growth on their achievement tests even though most of them are starting out in the nineties. I pray no one sneezes during the test!
November 1, 2016. That's the day I'm eligible to retire, if we can afford it after paying college tuition for three kids. I think I'll take my slim retirement pay and supplement it by greeting Walmart shoppers. At least that way, I could leave the job at home and go back to having a life.
Meanwhile, I've eaten some of the stress and tacked on a few pounds and am fighting hot flashes, waking at night, and all the other messes associated with my awful age. See. Ha! I'm more miserable than you!
Thanks to all who visit my blog regularly, and I'm sorry I don't always return the favor. I wanted you to know why. I promise to post something lighter for Silly Sunday.
As a little girl, I kept seeing these huge wads of toilet paper in the bathroom trashcan each month and couldn't figure out what they were. So one day, I reached into the garbage and opened one to see for myself. Scared the snot out of me!
Maybe curiosity is not such a good thing, after all it killed the cat. Plus there is the old "ignorance is bliss" phrase too. None the less, I've always been intrigued by death. I wonder what happens when we die? Where do we go? or...Will we come back in a reincarnated form? The only true way to find out is to die, and I'm not that curious. I am, however, sure we're never totally gone because the body is made of energy and energy can never be destroyed. It only changes form; scientifically a part of us will always remain on Earth.
None the less, I believe in reincarnation and karma. For example, as a teacher, I must have done something horrendous in my past life. I have a theory that my current and past students belonged to villages that I sacked and burned, and they continuously get their karmic pay back on me every year. That's the history of everyone in the teaching profession because why else would we suffer such abuse?
But the barbarian's life must have been an old, old existence because back in college, a hypnotist captivated us kids in a journey to our past lives to observe what we had experienced. I was an African American slave and knowing myself, it makes sense. Although I'm white, I've always gotten along well with black people and feel a natural chemistry with African Americans who I've worked with or have had the pleasure of being around. Also, I instinctively have a terrible fear of authority figures and hate wearing turtle necks or anything tight around my neck or wrists. I've even experienced anxiety and had to look away upon seeing someone with something bound tightly around their neck. Yep! I was probably bound, shackled, and eventually hung. In my mind, hanging would be the worst way to die.
What? You don't believe this? Fine. I'll prove it to you in the next life. And by the way, a friend of ours visited a hypnotist who told her she was Queen Isabella in a past life. As a result, she has apologized for the way she had treated Jews.
The question, "Which is more important Nature or Nurture?," is up there with,"Which came first the chicken or the egg?" Both answers are hard to crack. When given this GBE 2 topic, I thought of Trading Places, a movie in which the Duke brothers bet $1 to see which mattered most: nature or nurture. Nurture won out, but the movie is fiction.
Goofy kids in bubble bath, circa 1995
Our three children have three distinct personalities. Just look at the photo and how each wore the bubbles in a different way. These babies born into the same environment were different from the start and still are... but maybe the environment wasn't truly the same? After all, we were calmer, more relaxed parents with the third born.
I've also heard that kids teach their parents how they should be treated by their nature. For example, a parent will interact differently with a wild child than a quiet one. So maybe nature beats nurture?
If nature wins, I still don't buy into crap about an inferior race. As a teacher, I've seen kids of all races, creeds, and colors in my intellectually gifted classes. I once taught an African American eight year old, who would read the Wall Street Journal when finished with his work. If you, the adult, didn't understand what he read, he'd explain it to you.
No race is inferior to another, although I can't say the same about parents. One of the hottest current videos on YouTube is that of a Texas judge whipping and cussing at his sixteen year old daughter for downloading music from the Internet. Really, moron? With a beating like that, one would think she made an assassination attempt on the president.
Unfortunately, physically and/or emotionally abusive parents are not the only inferior ones out there. Some well meaning adults hover over their darlings to the point of crippling their ability to think for themselves. So although nature has a strong hand in who we become, we can't ignore nurture.
Amazingly, many kids from horrid homes rise above abuse, neglect, and over-protectiveness to excel; while a kid from a great environment, swallowed mushrooms and drove his car through a house… then miraculously walked away unscathed.
To work a prestigious job, one must earn a college degree; however, the most important occupation in the world–parenting–requires no education at all. Why is that?
I leave you with the trailer from Trading Places, just in case you've never seen this wonderful movie.
