rustypants speaks

one rule i have in my class is that during instructional time (i.e. while i’m in front teaching) there is no leaving to go use the bathroom. the breaking of this rule is frequently attempted with such phrases as, “pleeeease, Mr. Rust!” and “it’s an emergency! you don’t want me to pee in the classroom, do you?” (which sorely tempts me, but…).

at any rate, some of the kids know the correct combination of phrases, facial expressions, and bodily “moves” that will break my will on this rule.

most do not.

this past week brought the best attempt yet. picture this:

we’d just finished several weeks of review work that included looking at declarative, imperative, interrogative, and exclamatory sentences, their rules, usage, and much practice. the first test on this was a terrible failure and i gave a second test two days later just to make sure (much better results).

it’s monday. a bad day. frustrated with behaviors, i’m teaching my homeroom on the Smartboard new grammar stuff when one of my pain-in-the-rear kids raises his hand with a note in it for me.

while still teaching, i walk over, take the note from him, ready to ignore the question inside it.

the note reads:
“I need to go real bad. Can I please go to the bathroom? (interrogative sentence)”

i laughed so hard i almost went to the bathroom myself.

i wrote back to him:
“now that’s just pathetic!”

and i let him break my rule.

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of the atmospheric kind and mental kind.

it’s been a depressing and busy week, hence the lack of babbling here. last week lise was informed that she did not get the job at my school as an aide and it hit harder than i expected. it’s been so damn frustrating dealing with escambia county school district in relation to lise getting a job. how does a guy with no degree in education and no classroom teaching experience (on his own, at least) take two multiple choice tests on a computer and receive a teaching certificate, when a chick with eight years of teaching, a degree in education and art, 5 praxis exams, countless other tests, certificates, awards, memberships, etc. is sent jumping through hoops for six months with mixed messages, ever-changing requirements, department head saying one thing, certification specialist saying another, etc. etc. etc. and she can’t even get hired as a classroom aide? it’s beyond me, honestly. we’re dealing with a pending financial breakdown, a wounded ego, mass frustration, disappointment, and depression.

depression of another sort is upon us as well. a tropical depression is moving through the gulf of mexico and as it moves, we’re getting some awesome and wild clouds which make for even more awesome sunsets. we’re getting ready for what looks to be quite a few days of hard-core rain moving in - this might throw a wrench in our “Seafood Fridays” on the beach, but in the absence of hanging on the beach, i’ll be content watching the storm from the car while eating shrimp. i’m easy that way.

despite both types of depression, things continue to be ok. we’re not eating ramen noodles (yet). the dog is healthy and fine. the apartment is working out as well as it can. we’re meeting more people and getting to know the area quite well. obviously spending 4-5 evenings a week sitting on the beach watching displays like the above pictures show… well, this doesn’t hurt at all.

things haven’t worked out the way we were expecting them to, and while this is not cause for alarm, it IS disappointing and frustrating. are we wondering if we made the right decision? that’s a good question. we NEEDED to move and shake things up a bit. pensacola is still the right place for us to be.

will it continue to be in the educational field in pensacola?

stay tuned - we’ll find out.

my florida teaching certificate came in the mail yesterday.

i’m thinking of writing “Return to Sender” on it and sending it back.

hee hee.

it’s 8:30am

my classroom is completely silent

and it’s deafening

the kids are taking an FCAT simulation

i’m eating up the lack of noise

and hoping they’re doing their best

students in my room suspended: 9
students i wish were suspended: 17
students in class: 25
lighters found: 2
new grey hairs found: 78
lost hairs: (statistics not available)
anonymous notes from students telling me they hate me: 4
resignation letters written: 2
resignation letters turned in: 0
been talked off the ledge: 8
said, “stop talking” or variation: 2,361
student looks of concern over teacher’s maniacal laughter: 211
principal says, “scott, you’re ok - put the knife down”: 5
paper airplanes confiscated: (statistics not available)
fights: 4
desks / seats moved: 74
sat in room thinking i’ve made a terrible mistake: 15
smiles from students: 2,362
notes from students telling me i’m the best teacher ever: 9
paper airplanes with “to mr. rust, best teacher” received: 4
students i love: 25

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perhaps the most eloquent explanation i’ve yet seen explaining one’s dislike for cats:

nataliedee.com

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this cartoon reminded me of an incident that happened last year at an indian restaurant in cincinnati.lise and i were there during lunch, minding our own business, relaxing and having some fantastic indian food. we were having a great conversation and a lot of fun when about 20 folks walked in the place at once.

“oh, crap” was my immediate thought. this restaurant isn’t big enough for 20 people and here comes a group that size - suddenly i understood why the already narrow aisles were even more narrow as 4 long tables had been put together up the middle making passage near impossible.

you can picture what happened next: 20 folks cram themselves into the middle of the narrow restaurant, talking loud, blocking us into our table, getting in and out as they all tried to go to the buffet at once, etc.

well, i’m cool, right? i mean, i understand the fun of having a big group and going out to eat together! we do our best to not bother the other patrons and enjoy ourselves.

but then.

then one of them pulls out a camera. in the middle of the day. at the indian restaurant. and they begin taking pictures with a flash. in my direction.

and that was about all i could handle after the tenth picture was taken.

i made the ugliest face i could muster as the eleventh picture was about to be snapped and looked right into the camera - i transformed into THAT GUY.

and as the dude who took the picture went back to make sure it “took” - his face dropped. he shows the camera to a couple of his friends and i realize with dawning concern that one of two things can happen: they’ll “get the picture” and stop it…

or they’ll kick my ass.

thankfully, none of them even looked over in our direction, but the message must’ve been received because the camera was put away and we were able to finish our meal in peace.

at times, usually late at night in the throes of insomnia, i wonder if my picture is on some kind of “that guy who ruined our picture” website.