When you accidentally fail an entire class

My students were reading silently, a few weeks ago, and I was entering scores from their latest article of the week. Typed in the scores, clicked save, viola: updated grades.

Problem number one: Chloe, a pretty close to perfect student, now had an F. I looked back at the few other grades affecting this term; they were all perfect scores. The article of the week I had just entered was not a clear fifteen out of fifteen, but it was no where close to a failing grade.

Problem number two: The rest of the class was failing too. An entire class was failing. Panic surged through my veins for a second. What had just happened? My brain scanned through all the consequences of this handful of F's.

Turns out, I forgot to change the assignment to be worth 15 points instead of 100.

Details matter. Balance restored.

First Day of School

Aujourd'hui was my first day of school, as a teacher! So I decided to take a picture like my mamma used to when I was in elementary. Basically, it was pretty much a day. I am not going to say that it wasn't hard, but I for sure love my job. Actually I am obsessed with it. Mostly because I just love my students. Here is me awkwardly waiting for the timer to go off on my camera because no one else wakes up at the crack of crazy to go to work. Okay, a lot of people do, but just not my roommates. Cheers for teaching!

Also, junior high is the place to be. I think that is where I want to spend the rest of my teaching days. Eighth grade baby.

Hard Things Are Cake

When I was a wee lil senior in high school, I really wanted to run for BYU. Dream came true when I looked at the ringing phone's caller ID: Patrick Shane. Only there are lotz of crazy NCAA rules about recruits, so when there was a mess up with the plane tickets or the dates for the official visit, Coachie couldn't call me, but I didn't know that. I was scared to call him, intimidated. I remember holding the phone, sucking in, and telling myself I was holy-cow not going to let this chance pass me by. Turns out he had just postponed the dates, n even a bd.

Okay so maybe we did have basically all the ingredients we needed.
We still make a pretty huge cake.

When I first started substitute teaching, some of the junior highs would hand me a free lunch pass for subs when I checked in at the front office. If walking through a crowd of middle schoolers in a lunch room, waiting in line with them, and eating their food doesn't sound uncomfortable to you, then buy me a box of chocolates. Honestly, it really wasn't that hard, and it tots def for sure's not a big deal. I mean you just walk into the lunch room, grab your food and leave. Why do I sometimes think some of the easiest things in the world are hard?

Like yesterday. I bought a plane ticket for myself. I have flown around quite a bit, but someone else - my mom, BYU travel, random people off the street - have always arranged my travel. And don't ask me why, for some reason I thought buying a plane ticket would be hard. I've purchased a few train tickets in my lifetime, but planes? Different story. That is why people used to hire travel agents isn't it? Well guess the penny, buying a plane ticket is easier than scooping ice cream.

And reading 30 books in half-term? Easy. Planning out how to teach an entire school year to eight graders? Easy. Running 10 miles in the snow when there is icicles forming on your eyelashes? Easy. Just one foot in front of the other. Baking a giant cake, without flour or sugar or eggs or milk or frosting? Easy. Easy as cake actually.

So ya, sometimes easy things seem hard, but they're not. After the fact, I always look back and laugh at myself for ever stressing. And I blog about it so you can all see the awk little quirks of mikeln.

*I have never, and would never, let someone random off the street buy me a plane ticket.

Lovin' me some middle school

Today I wore my black polka-dot skirt: the one that was a Christmas present back in the twilight days of my middle school experience - oh so classy. I put it on, sassed it up with a belt, and was on my way to teach middle school. Just lovin me some middle school I guess. I tried to imagine what my students would say if I told them about my vintage skirt. Do I have a really old skirt? or yes, I am just a really young teacher. Either way, this skirt has made its full circle.

Brown with Black and strips a polka-dots.
This would make my grandma Joanie shiver.

After deciding I wanted to be a teacher, I thought I wanted to teach high school, but for my practicum experience, I was assigned seventh grade. But, lately I have been thinking more and more that maybe I actually want to teach middle school. I always knew I would enjoy it, but honestly, I think I might even prefer it.

1. The kids are so stinkin funny. They do the cutest, strangest, most innocent or spacey things and it just isn't a big deal.

2. I love seeing them rise to the occasion and accomplish some pretty monumental stuff. Hold them to a high standard and they will rise to the occasion.

3. There isn't this huge distinction between class or social status or even coolness. They are all pretty much just sittin their little touches in my classroom, all interacting with each other on the same level - more or less.

4. They are just starting to grow into their unique selves; which is beautiful.

5. They still love to learn. Even those who say they don't love to learn, still love it. I can see it. They can't help but be interested in the lesson. Okay so there are still those who put their head on their desks and fall asleep, or those who throw little pieces of paper across the room all class period, but I can see it in even them, they can't help but learn something. The curiosity hasn't been beaten out of them yet.

So maybe, just maybe, don't hold me to it yet, but maybe middle school is for me. Helpin those sassafras students become life-long learners, or at least doing my best to head them in the right direction.