‘Other’ Stories
Uteruses or Uteri?
View all posts by shudsonWe are currently writing individual autobiographies in my sophomore English class, and the students were stumped on what to write about concerning their family members. I asked them, ” Do you know of any interesting or unique characteristics a family member(s) might have?” Here was the conversation that followed, officially going down in class history as the most awesome/terrible thing I’ve ever heard…
Student #1: Uniqe stuff about about family? Well…my sister only has one kidney but two uteruses.
Student #2: Wait! Your sister has two hangee-thingees in her throat?!?!?
Student #3: (Hits Student #2 in the arm) You’re stupid. She said uteruses. That means her sister can hold twice the pee we can.
Student #4 (a male student): Pee? Does that mean I have a uterus?
Teacher (me): Oh. My. God.
Please Don’t Bring in a Mouse
View all posts by MrTeacherI teach a grade 5 class and we recently were given a class set of laptops for a month. Upon telling the students about this, one student says how she hates using the touchpad on the laptop and asks if she can bring in a mouse. As soon as she said the word mouse another girl screams out, “Ahhh please don’t bring in a mouse! I hate them! We had some in our house and couldn’t get rid of them!”
What would you paint?
View all posts by TheTeacherMy grade 4 students were writing their journals the other day and the topic I gave them had to do with imagining that they could paint anything on their bedroom wall and to describe what it would be. As soon as I gave them this topic a boy comes up to me and tells me that he actually wanted to paint a car with a naked woman on it (he’s a pretty good artist and probably could) and his parents said no. He said that instead they are going to get him a poster with a sports car and a girl in a bikini on it.
The Mailbox
View all posts by daveglennAn unspoken obligation of the teaching profession is making the short walk to the office every morning to check our mailboxes. I detest this walk. First, the invention of email in the previous century was meant to make things easier in the workplace—faster communication, the elimination of physical memos, and fewer inane walks to an inane mailbox. Secondly, I have to cross paths with all the other teachers, the masters of small talk. I hate small talk. I hate awkward greetings, forced smiles, petty comments on the weather, or, worst of all, contrived attempts at pleasant conversation. It never ceases to amaze me that my middle-aged colleagues prefer these empty interactions over silence. I hate to sound unpleasant or aloof, but all early-morning exchanges with elder teachers look like one of the following:
Teacher 1: “Morning.”
Teacher 2: “Morning.”
Teacher 1: “Morning. Nice day, huh?”
Teacher 2: (Fake chuckle) “Heh, yeah, I heard it was supposed to be cloudy (A lie).”
(Sometimes) Teacher 1: “So how are your classes going?”
Teacher 2: (Stops walking because he/she is doomed to waste about 1-2 minutes of life so Teacher 1 can feel like he/she is a polite, positive, or sociable person) “Good, how about yours?”
Teacher 1: “How’s it going?”
Teacher 2: “Good. And you?”
Teacher 1: “Good.”
Teacher 2: (Fake smile)
Teacher 1: “How’s it going?”
Teacher 2: (Rolls eyes in fake exhaustion) “I’m tired.”
Teacher 1: “Yeah, I hear ya.”
Teacher 1: (In fake excitement) “Yay, it’s Friday!”
Teacher 2: (Fake smile and chuckle) “Yep.”
Sadly, I’ve played the role of both Teacher 1 and 2, many times. I know: I am pathetic. Although I’m not the most polite person in the world, I do play the part to please others. I just wish people could find other ways of feeling good about themselves besides artificial conversations with coworkers. Go exercise. Stop being mean to people you love. Apologize when you know you were wrong. Keep your promises. Eat healthy food. Forgo fast food and junk food. Stop wasting my time with your pathetic attempts at being a good person.
It reminds me of drivers who decide to be a “good person” and let me, the pedestrian, cross the street in the parking lot when I’m not even close to crossing yet, and it’s clearly their turn. I hate this because I’ll look like an ass if I don’t increase my speed and trot like I’m walking in front of a TV. You should have just driven through. There was plenty of room for you to go and no risk of hitting me. Now you made me speed up for no reason, and I wanted to continue my leisurely stroll. Thanks for being a good person and disrupting my leisure time. When it comes to parking-lot drivers and early-morning coworkers, this world needs more assholes.
Towards the end of the first week of my teaching career, I made the trip to my mailbox. In my box I found a half-dozen memos and flyers, and on top of them sat a medium-sized snack pack of animal crackers—the ones with the white and pink frosting with the sprinkles. Mine was the only box with the crackers, so they must’ve been a gift of some sort. Not a fan of such a treat and already irritated by the notion of a mailbox, I left the crackers as they were. Two weeks passed. The crackers still remained in my box. I reasoned that since they were a gift, I couldn’t give them away; I wasn’t raised that way. But if I threw them away I’d be wasting an unopened item of food, which is against my personal rules. I concluded that my only option was to leave them in my mailbox and hope someone would steal them. Midway through the third ongoing week of untouched animal crackers, I walked up to my mailbox and found an empty box. Finally! Someone who actually liked them became hungry and stole them. I was at ease with my conscience.
A week later, while eating lunch in the teacher’s lounge, one of the elder female math teachers, Mrs. Crow, sat across from me at a crowded table of twelve. She brought her blue lunch pail, and before she even took out her main entrée, I saw them. They were pink and white and sprinkly, and they were piled amply inside a Ziploc bag. Shit! She was the one! To welcome me to the school, she had decided that I would greatly appreciate a happy pack of animal crackers, and I had disrespected her gift, big time. She knew. Upon busting out her valued treat, she went slowly around the table and offered everyone at the table a cracker. Everyone was accepting them! I was seventh in line for the offer, that is, if she didn’t skip me in the rotation. If she did offer me one, I obviously had no choice but to accept. The other teachers clearly had the upper hand in knowing that you do not turn down animal crackers from Mrs. Crow. When she got to me, she changed her offer routine. Instead of simply smiling and holding out the bag, she said in an attempt at sounding neutral to prior events, “Would you like a cookie, Dave?”
“Sure,” I said. I reached into the bag and grabbed one. It was pink. Wanting to make it seem like I was cherishing her offer, I only took a small bite. If I had popped the whole thing in, she may have snapped. She watched me for five seconds, an underlying fury brewing within. Then she offered the next person in line without saying a word. I received several glares over the last five minutes I remained at that table. After that day, three things never happened again: I never sat at that table again; I was never offered any more animal crackers; and I never received another gift from Mrs. Crow.
Now because I’m a good person, I can appreciate Mrs. Crow’s altruistic spirit, but even so, I shouldn’t be obligated to eat a bag of animal crackers if I don’t feel like it. People shouldn’t conjure inauthenticity by carrying out their own self-righteousness. For example, if Mrs. Crow could feel good about herself without handing out a bunch of animal crackers, I wouldn’t have to feign appreciation. I guess, in a way, my stories are like my own little animal crackers that I feel compelled to hand out, but at least I don’t hover around you monitoring your consumption, making you feel bad for not reading them, or expecting you to pretend you like them.
daveglenn.com
The Apple
View all posts by daveglennI’m eating lunch with all these old teachers. I eat quick so I don’t have to listen to them talk about a pesky student or the latest Survivor episode. One day, I am finishing off my lunch with an apple. There is a nice elderly lady who always sits to the right of me, but we never talk. As I am eating my apple, my bite creates an unusually huge squirt that lands on her left shoulder. At first I think I’m in the clear, but nine seconds after my squirt her right hand slowly brings up a napkin and starts wiping her blouse. Damn. I look in her direction and say, “Uh, yeah, did I get you?” She interrupts me almost immediately and says, “No don’t worry about it; it was a juicy apple.” I force a laugh and mumble, “Sorry about that.” The poor lady is wiping at her shoulder for the next three minutes until I finally get up to leave. From then on, she mysteriously sits on the other side of the table.
daveglenn.com
That’s a weird question…
View all posts by MrTeacherA student in my grade 4 class returned from Disneyland and was sharing some things about her trip. After sharing the class was given a chance to ask her three questions. The first question was what was your favourite ride? The second question was what was your least favourite ride? The third and final question asked was what was your 5th favourite ride?
Easter Bunny?
View all posts by DancingQueenI was teaching a dance class to a group of young girls. While helping them tie their dance shoes I asked the group if they were excited for the upcoming Easter holidays, to which they all responded “YES!”. I asked the girls if they thought the Easter bunny would visit me and one tiny little girl who looks to be about 6 years old said “No, you’ll be hiding the eggs because the adults hide the eggs and the kids pretend to believe in the Easter bunny because that’s the only way we get chocolate!”. Suffice it to say that I was more than a bit surprised at this little one’s comment and so were many of the little girls who had just learned the truth about the Easter bunny for the first time.
A small crime
View all posts by coachparkerI teach a credit recovery class at an inner-city school and I can’t say that I get the best students attending my classes. Many skip out on class and are very behind on work. A male student who was a junior at the time walked into my class after being suspended for three days. I asked him, ” Where have you been all week?”
He replied with, “Oh it was just a misdemeanor Coach.”
I surprisingly responded, “a misdemeanor! What did you do?”
“Oh, Uh…umm…Well what’s a misdemeanor?”
I answered, “like a small crime.”
The embarrassed student stumbled to correct himself, ” Oh no sir, I meant it was just a misunderstanding with the assistant principal.”
Kids these days. I guess I’m proud that he was trying to use a big word….
You have to throw from your sweet spot
View all posts by DizzleI was teaching a 3-5yr old basketball class and during a down time in the lesson some of the boys were trying to score in the big hoops – 9ft high. One of the older boys was granny shooting- with great success. I demonstrated to the rest of the class showing them that in order to get the ball up high enough they had to shoot granny style – beginning from between your legs. I asked David to demonstrate for us because he was able to through the ball high and accurate. As he was demonstrating he instructed the rest of his classmates that they must shoot from their penis…..lol. I of course began to laugh. His mom noticed that he was getting his shots in so she decided to come to the other end of the gym and take a couple pictures of him. After hearing him tell the rest of the kids his technique a couple times i told him to share his strategy with his mom. I could not hold in my laughter as i watched him describe his technique to his mother…..she found it quite amusing as well, especially when he pointed to his sweet spot to help better describe his shooting technique. I then had to debrief the class before the word penis spread throughout the gym : )
Teachers Don’t Make That Much!
View all posts by grade7teacherI was speaking to some of my grade 7 students after school the other day when one of them asks me if I have a second job to which I reply I do. She told me she wasn’t surprised about this and when I asked her why this didn’t surprise her she responded with, “I was sure you had a second job because I saw you have an iphone 4 and we all know teachers don’t much that much!”
